The whole LSD, STP, marijuana, heroin, hashish, prescription cough medicine crowd suffers from the Watchtower itch: you gotta be with us, man, or you're out, you're dead. This pitch is a continual and seeming MUST with those who use the stuff. It's no wonder they keep getting busted.
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The more rational an institution is the less it suffers by making concessions to others.
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In my conscience I believe the baggage loves me, for she never speaks well of me herself, nor suffers any body else to rail at me.
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Perhaps I know best why it is man alone who laughs; he alone suffers so deeply that he had to invent laughter.
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There is nothing the body suffers which the soul may not profit by.
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Death is but another stage of life. However long one suffers from illness or however severe the injury, death can happen only when Time signals the right moment.
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I do not believe that sheer suffering teaches. If suffering alone taught, all the world would be wise, since everyone suffers. To suffering must be added mourning, understanding, patience, love, openness and the willingness to remain vulnerable.
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In my conscience I believe the baggage loves me, for she never speaks well of me herself, nor suffers any body else to rail at me
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A book is a fragile creature, it suffers the wear of time, it fears rodents, the elements and clumsy hands. so the librarian protects the books not only against mankind but also against nature and devotes his life to this war with the forces of oblivion.
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When distant and unfamiliar and complex things are communicated to great masses of people, the truth suffers a considerable and often a radical distortion. The complex is made over into the simple, the hypothetical into the dogmatic, and the relative into an absolute.
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Buonaparte has often made his boast that our fleet would be worn out by keeping the sea and that his was kept in order and increasing by staying in port; but know he finds, I fancy, if Emperors hear the truth, that his fleet suffers more in a night than ours in one year.
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Neither the entrepreneurs nor the farmers nor the capitalists determine what has to be produced. The consumers do that. If a businessman does not strictly obey the orders of the public as they are conveyed to him by the structure of market prices, he suffers losses, he goes bankrupt, and is thus removed from his eminent position at the helm. Other men who did better in satisfying the demand of the consumers replace him. The consumers patronize those shops in which they can buy what they want at the cheapest price. Their buying and their abstention from buying decides who should own and run the plants and the farms. They make poor people rich and rich people poor. They determine precisely what should be produced, in what quality, and in what quantities. They are merciless bosses, full of whims and fancies, changeable and unpredictable. For them nothing counts other than their own satisfaction. They do not care a whit for past merit and vested interests. If something is offered to them that they like better or that is cheaper, they desert their old purveyors. In their capacity as buyers and consumers they are hard-hearted and callous, without consideration for other people.
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I was surprised that we did as well as we did. Per capita spending for mental health has been going down for more than a decade. When per capita spending goes down, patients' access to mental health services suffers.
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One who shows signs of mental aberration is, inevitably, perhaps, but cruelly, shut off from familiar, thoughtless intercourse, partly excommunicated; his isolation is unwittingly proclaimed to him on every countenance by curiosity, indifference, aversion, or pity, and in so far as he is human enough to need free and equal communication and feel the lack of it, he suffers pain and loss of a kind and degree which others can only faintly imagine, and for the most part ignore.
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That man is good who does good to others if he suffers on account of the good he does, he is very good if he suffers at the hands of those to whom he has done good, then his goodness is so great that it could be enhanced only by greater sufferings and if he should die at their hands, his virtue can go no further it is heroic, it is perfect.
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Poor fellow, he suffers from files.
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In each individual the spirit is made flesh, in each one the whole of creation suffers, in each one a Savior is crucified.
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One truth stands firm. All that happens in world history rests on something spiritual. If the spiritual is strong, it creates world history. If it is weak, it suffers world history.
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Nothing does reason more right, than the coolness of those that offer it: For Truth often suffers more by the heat of its defenders, than from the arguments of its opposers.
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Everyone suffers wrongs for which there is no remedy.
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Applause that comes thundering with such force you might think the audience merely suffers the music as an excuse for its ovations.
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Sacrifice still exists everywhere, and everywhere the elect of each generation suffers for the salvation of the rest.
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'Sarah'
My name is Sarah I am but three, My eyes are swollen I cannot see, I must be stupid I must be bad, What else could have made My daddy so mad? I wish I were better I wish I weren’t ugly They maybe mommy Would still want to hug me. I can’t speak at all I can’t do a wrong Or else I’m locked up All the day long. When I’m awake I’m all alone The house is dark My folks aren’t home When my mommy does come I’ll try and be nice, So maybe I’ll get just One whipping tonight. Don’t make a sound! I just heard a car My daddy is back From Charlie’s Bar. I heard him curse My name he calls I press myself Against the wall I try and hide From his evil eyes I’m so afraid now I’m starting to cry He finds me weeping He shouts ugly words, He says it’s my fault That he suffers at work. He slaps me and hits me And yells at me more, I finally get free And I run for the door. He’s already locked it And I start to bawl, He takes me and throws me Against the hard wall. I fall to the floor With my bones nearly broken, And my daddy continues With more bad words spoken. “I’m sorry!”, I scream But its much too late His face has been twisted Into unimaginable hate The hurt and the pain Again and again Oh please God, have mercy! Oh please let it end! And finally he stops And heads for the door, While I lay motionless Sprawled on the floor My name is Sarah And I am but three, Tonight my daddy Murdered me.
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The intelligence suffers today automatically in consequence of the attack on all authority, advantage, or privilege. These things are not done away with, it is needless to say, but numerous scapegoats are made of the less politically powerful, to satisfy the egalitarian rage awakened.
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When elephants fight, it is the grass who suffers.
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The attempt to devote oneself to literature alone is a most deceptive thing, and often, paradoxically, it is literature that suffers for it.
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Pain is as diverse as man. One suffers as one can.
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Pain is pain, whether it is inflicted on man or on beast; and the creature that suffers it, whether man or beast, being sensible of the misery of it whilst it lasts, suffers Evil… [T]he white man... can have no right, by virtue of his color, to enslave and tyrannize over a black man... for the same reason, a man can have no natural right to abuse and torment a beast.
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The man who suffers from a sense of sin is suffering from a particular kind of self-love. In all this vast universe the thing that appears to him of most importance is that he himself should be virtuous. It is a grave defect in certain forms of traditional religion that they have encouraged this particular kind of self-absorption.
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The ox suffers, the cart complains.
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