Charles Dickens Quotes

No one writes about the emotional things you go through.

You never know what battles people fight.

Thank you for this, Peter. For dry eyes and silent weeping. You taught me how to hide anything i felt. More than ever, i need that now.

I looked at my hand resting on the shelf of the prop cabinet, thinking of the scars that were there whether anyone could see them or not.

She did not want to talk of her sorrow, but with that sorrow in her heart she could not talk of outside matters.

To fight aloud, is very brave— But gallanter, I know Who charge within the bosom The Cavalry of Wo— Who win, and nations do not see— Who fall — and none observe — Whose dying eyes, no Country Regards with patriot love— We trust, in plumed procession For such, the Angels go— Rank after Rank, with even feet— And Uniforms of Snow.

You go on Instagram, and it's just not a real reflection of what people do, and how much pain people are in every day. So that's my mental change.

I never yet did hear, That the bruis'd heart was pierced through the ear

Let me not be weak and tell others how bleeding I am internally; how day by day it drips, and gathers, and congeals.

It is not, nor it cannot, come to good, But break, my heart, for I must hold my tongue.

...the heart has no tears to give,--it drops only blood, bleeding itself away in silence.

Even though it hurt, there are kinds of pain you couldn't speak out loud.

I learned that the world didn't see the inside of you, that it didn't care a whit about the hopes and dreams, and sorrows, that lay masked by skin and bone. It was as simple, as absurd, and as cruel as that.

I often don't say things out loud, even when I should. I contain and compartmentalize to a disturbing degree: In my belly-basement are hundreds of bottles of rage, despair, fear, but you'd never guess from looking at me.

The silence was unbearable to him. If the pictures could have reflected the feelings inside him, they would have been screaming in pain.

Added to their loveliness was a new mysterious suffering, perfectly silent, visible in the blue puffiness beneath their eyes or the way they would sometimes stop in mid-stride, look down, and shake their heads as though disagreeing with life.

You don't know me, dude," he says, not smiling this time. Gonzo examines his cards, prepping for his next move. "People always think that they know other people, but they don't. Not really. I mean, maybe they know things about them, like they won't eat doughnuts or they like action movies or whatever. But they don't know what their friends do in their rooms alone at night or what happened to them when they were kids or if they feel ****ed up for no reason at all.

Many, many men have been just as troubled morally and spiritually as you are right now. Happily, some of them kept records of their troubles.

Everyone understands the pain that accompanies death, but genuine pain doesn't live in the spirit, nor in the air, nor in our lives, nor on these terraces of billowing smoke. The genuine pain that keeps everything awake is a tiny, infinite burn on the innocent eyes of other systems.

Mental pain is less dramatic than physical pain, but it is more common and also more hard to bear. The frequent attempt to conceal mental pain increases the burden: it is easier to say “My tooth is aching” than to say “My heart is broken.

We could hardly believe that after so many ordeals, after all the trials of modern skepticism, there was still so much left in our souls to destroy.

To burn with desire and keep quiet about it is the greatest punishment we can bring on ourselves.

Psychologically, I will not have to seek far if I decide to kill myself, because in my mind and heart I am more ready for this than for the unplanned daily tribulations that mark off the mornings and afternoons.

You can run away from home But you can't run away from your pain I sit here alone There's always someone else to blame.

Nobody can tell what I suffer! But it is always so. Those who do not complain are never pitied.