Cheryl Strayed Quotes

For every wound, the ointment of time.

Loss brings pain. Yes. But pain triggers memory. And memory is a kind of new birth, within each of us. And it is that new birth after long pain, that resurrection - in memory - that, to our surprise, perhaps, comforts us.

No pain will last forever. It is not easy, but life was never meant to be either easy or fair. Repentance and the lasting hope that forgiveness brings will always be worth the effort.

Time heals all wounds.

I got well by talking. Death could not get a word in edgewise, grew discouraged, and traveled on.

Things get better--hurt less--over time. If you let them.

Always remember, you will live, you will love, you will dance again.

Time heals all wounds. But not this one. Not yet.

You must save what you can of your life; you musn't lose it all simply because you've lost a part.

The worst of it is over now, and I can't say that I am glad. Lose that sense of loss—you have gone and lost something else. But the body moves toward health. The mind, too, in steps. One step at a time. Ask a mother who has just lost a child, How many children do you have? "Four," she will say, "—three," and years later, "Three," she will say, "—four.

The living can't quit living because the world has turned terrible and people they love and need are killed. They can't because they don't. The light that shines into darkness and never goes out calls them on into life. It calls them back again into the great room. It calls them into their bodies and into the world, into whatever the world will require. It calls them into work and pleasure, goodness and beauty, and the company of other loved ones.

There are some pains that run too deep for anything to absolve them. The best we can do is pick up the pieces and hope for the strength we need to keep going.

When hope is gone, time is punishment.

Time wounds all heels.

Time will bring healing.

Courage! Suffering, when it climbs highest, lasts not long.

Each of us will have our own Fridays—those days when the universe itself seems shattered and the shards of our world lie littered about us in pieces. We all will experience those broken times when it seems we can never be put together again. We will all have our Fridays. But I testify to you in the name of the One who conquered death—Sunday will come. In the darkness of our sorrow, Sunday will come. No matter our desperation, no matter our grief, Sunday will come. In this life or the next, Sunday will come.

When I planted my pain in the field of patience it bore fruit of happiness.

I learned you could suffer a terrible tragedy and still be happy again.

Nobody will protect you from your suffering. You can't cry it away or eat it away or starve it away or walk it away or punch it away or even therapy it away. It's just there, and you have to survive it. You have to endure it. You have to live through it and love it and move on and be better for it and run as far as you can in the direction of your best and happiest dreams across the bridge that was built by your own desire to heal.

Although the world is full of suffering, it is also full of the overcoming of it.

Endure and persist; this pain will turn to good by and by.

Time wounds all heels.

How poor are they that have not patience! What wound did ever heal but by degrees?

We've all fallen, but at the same time we're not broken. There is the hint that we are going to get up again.