Lester Bangs Quotes

It is not humiliating to be unhappy. Physical suffering is sometimes humiliating, but the suffering of being cannot be, it is life.

I can see his pain, see it in the way he runs his fingers through his hair, over and over, and I understand what it costs him to hide it all.

I think emotional and mental pain is probably worse than physical pain. I think we don't realize that I have no arms or legs but we all have disabilities of some sort, some fear, some lost, some wishes that didn't come true, things we wish would be better.

Pain is something that's common to human life. When we ignore it, we aren't engaging in the whole reality, and the pain begins to fester.

I bleed like nobody else.

For me, what really excites me about my characters and what pushes their core is the kind of dark, sad side of life.

There is no dignity like the dignity of a soul in agony.

The suffering itself is not so bad; it's the resentment against suffering that is the real pain.

I have often wished myself a beast. I preferred the condition of the meanest reptile to my own. Any thing, no matter what, to get rid of thinking! It was this everlasting thinking of my condition that tormented me. There was no getting rid of it. It was pressed upon me by every object within sight or hearing, animate or inanimate.

We're tortured, a lot of us, believe me.

An agony. The exit like the entrance - but reserved. A palindrome: gut-tug.

Cutting pain was a different flavor of hurt. It made it easier not to think about having my body and my family and my life stolen, made it easier not to care... -Wintergirls

For a long time that's all I could do, howl and scream and cry like the wild animal of the night that I'd become.

And the more I see Pleasures about me, so much more I feel Torment within me.

There is nothing that stirs in the whole world of thought to which sorrow does not vibrate in terrible and exquisite pulsation.

now I'm told that this is life, that pain is just a simple comprimise so we can get what we want out of it. Would someone care to classify a broken heart and some twisted minds so I can find someone to rely on?

I need the pain of loneliness to make my imagination work.

Physical suffering apart, not a single sorrow exists that can touch us except through our thoughts.

Agonies are one of my changes of garments.

you’d think that silence would be peaceful. but really, it’s painful.

Pain has a way of clipping our wings and keeping us from being able to fly.

I must fling myself down and writhe; I must strive with every piece of force I possess; I bruise and batter myself against the floor, the walls; I strain and sob and exhaust myself, and begin again, and exhaust myself again; but do I feel pain? Never. How can I feel pain? There is no place for it.

Human suffering, while it is asleep, is shapeless. If it is wakened it takes the form of the waker.

And an inky-colored despair of rejection enveloped me like the black tortilla of depression around a pain burrito.

Each of us has his own rhythm of suffering.