Itachi Quotes About Pain Novels & Stories

Kirito places one hand on the back of my head and the other around my waist pulling me into a hug as he chuckles. "You dummy...It's also ok to cry when your in pain and ask for help when you need it!" Stunned by a crack in his voice and something wet hitting my neck It was like a rush of pain hit me and I place my arms around him to hug him back while trying to endure it. (He wants me to know I can rely on him too. To cry on his shoulder if I need it. It's the sweetest thing I've ever heard, but then why...am I feeling pain...)

The aura and tension he felt earlier on made him shiver, he was now able to recall everything that happened, and his head doesn't hurt like before. Why was he even weak? He has asked to be trained by his dad so he's taking that seriously but for now, he got something to do after being patched up. And that was to… "What the hell are you humming for" sasuke blurted out almost like he was yelling to a kid. This his friend knows how to rally him enough and it ain't worth it. "I'm sorry pal, just that it hurts a little" he replied with a pleading voice.

I had no memory of doing any of that. "He asked for it and I gave it to him. His screams were so satisfying to hear" Tarus said and I sighed, wiping my bloodied hand on the wall. My head was hurting really bad. 'Your body absorbed too much pain today, Jaden. It's not a good feeling' Tarus said and I closed my eyes, resting my head on the wall behind me. 'How much longer until someone eventually shows up?' I thought. 'I think they are afraid to come in' Tarus pointed out.

“You are not weak, Kira. You are mine. A child born of destiny, and no child of mine is weak so get up and run.” “I.. I can’t.. I really can't...” I wheezed, clutching my ankle, as the sharp pain pulsed up my leg. “You can.. you hear me Kira....” Her growl rumbled loud deep in my soul. “What is pain compared to death? You held your ground against Mira.. you're not weak Kira... And now you whimper in pain over a twisted ankle? You're stronger than you think so stop being lazy and get up!”

That was the thing about pain—it stripped people down to their core. There was nothing left of his arrogance, his defiance. Just raw, primal fear. I leaned in, my lips close to his ear. “Non tollero i ritardi. Non tollero la mancanza di rispetto. E non concedo seconde possibilità (I don’t tolerate delays. I don’t tolerate disrespect. And I don’t give second chances.)” A fresh tremor wracked his body. Nice. Every bruise, every cut, every drop of blood was a lesson.

' 'Don't say that Vittorio' 'It's the truth. He may not agree to this because is a chucklehead who can't agree he'll miss me...' He said coolly, while chuckling. '...but you have to get him out. Our Pack needs him. You need him' An ocean of waters escaped the walls of my eyes. 'I need you too' I say, in-between sobs. Vittorio silently howled. It was sad, and filled with so much pain. I placed my hand in him, muttering in low chants. It was a spell to lower the pain he felt.

It felt like my heart was trying to destroy itself as I kept seeing the male holding someone else hand and looking at them with a smile on his face. It hurts… It hurts… It hurts… It hurts… It hurts… It hurts… It hurts… It hurts… It hurts… It hurts… It hurts… It hurts… It hurts… It hurts… It hurts… It hurts… It hurts… It hurts… It hurts… It hurts… It hurts… It hurts… It hurts… It hurts… It hurts… It hurts… It hurts… It hurts… It hurts… It hurts… It hurts… It hurts… It hurts… It hurts… It hurts… It hurts… It hurts… It hurts… It hurts… It hurts… It hurts… It hurts… It hurts… It hurts… It hurts… It hurts… It hurts… IT HURTS… IT HURTS… IT HURTS… IT HURTS… IT HURTS… IT HURTS… ITHURTSITHURTSITHURTS

He said and winked. "You are such a neck in the pain... I mean a pain in the neck!" I said in frustration and attempted to leave again but he stood in front of me making me stop. He put his hands in his pocket, I've noticed that it's something he does whenever he wants to say something serious

“Good for pain, but bitter to swallow.” I knelt beside her, watching the way her fingers moved with cautiousness. It was mever tearing, only coaxing. “Do you ever get used to it?” I asked. “The pain?” She looked up, one brow arched. “No one should ever get used to pain, child. But we learn how to carry it differently.”

If I’m desperate enough and I’m able to shift, I can crawl my way through it, and maybe then I'll be free. The metal has teeth; it bites into my palm as I push the shard deeper under the bolt. Blood coats the grooves, and every inch feels like flesh peeling from bone, but I don’t stop. I’ve learned something useful here: pain is a door. You just have to keep walking through it. “You’re not the only one who doesn’t believe in fate,” I say. He hums low like a hymn sung through broken ribs. “I used to have a plan once.”