Revenge: it's a dream of flames fueled by scorched remains that are lit to a torch and brought back upon the one who burned you.
Pain is the price we pay for being alive. Dead cells__ur hair, our fingernails__an__ feel pain; they cannot feel anything. When weunderstand that, our question will change from, __hy do we have to feel pain?_ to __hat do we do with our pain so that it becomesmeaningful and not just pointless empty suffering? How can we turn all the painful experiences of our lives into birth pangs or intogrowing pains?_ We may not ever understand why we suffer or be able to control the forces that cause our suffering, but we can have alot to say about what the suffering does to us, and what sort of people we become because of it. Pain makes some people bitter andenvious. It makes others sensitive and compassionate. It is the result, not the cause, of pain that makes some experiences of painmeaningful and others empty and destructive.
When Bad Things Happen to Good People
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Pain is the price we pay for being alive. Dead cells__ur hair, our fingernails__an__ feel pain; they cannot feel anything. When weunderstand that, our question will change from, __hy do we have to feel pain?_ to __hat do we do with our pain so that it becomesmeaningful and not just pointless empty suffering? How can we turn all the painful experiences of our lives into birth pangs or intogrowing pains?_ We may not ever understand why we suffer or be able to control the forces that cause our suffering, but we can have alot to say about what the suffering does to us, and what sort of people we become because of it. Pain makes some people bitter andenvious. It makes others sensitive and compassionate. It is the result, not the cause, of pain that makes some experiences of painmeaningful and others empty and destructive.
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Bill suited the action to the word, getting up and leaning over the handlebars and pumping the pedals at a lunatic rate. Looking at Bill's back, which was amazingly broad for a boy of eleven-going-on-twelve, watching it work under the duffel coat, the shoulders slanting first one way and then the other as he shifted his weight from one pedal to the other, Richie suddenly became sure that they were invulnerable...they would live forever and ever.
This isn__ how things were supposed to happen. I was supposed to be me. Not this.
Blame is the creed of the disempowered.
It ain't the blows we're dealt that matter, but the ones we survive.