I imagine one of the reasons people cling to their hates so stubbornly is because they sense, once hate is gone, they will be forced to deal with pain.
The best laid schemes o' mice an' men
Gang aft agley,
An' lea'e us nought but grief an' pain,
For promis'd joy!
Humour is the instinct for taking pain playfully.
I am a waning bird encased in a glass sphere; I cannot see my prison, and my cries no one can hear.
Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses, you build up a whole suit of armor, so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life...You give them a piece of you. They didn't ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like kiss you or smile at you, and then your life isn't your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so simple a phrase likemaybe we should be just friendsturns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It's a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. I hate love.
I find that pain of a little censure, even when it is unfounded, is more acute than the pleasure of much praise.
Marriage has many pains, but celibacy has no pleasures.
It takes courage to love, but pain through love is the purifying fire which those who love generously know.
The pain of the mind is worse than the pain of the body.