Quotes About Healing

You don't right the wrongs of the past by wronging the people of the present. (character Norm Woodruff)

I'm not sure what good talking about stuff with a stranger week after week does for anyone. I guess therapy might be okay for people who don't really know why they're sad or angry or whatever. I'm a simple case. You're gone and I will never be the same. Never. I can talk, I can "share" until there's nothing secret left but you'll still be dead and I'll still be sad.

Ti sentì meglio?" Meglio? Quello che volevo chiederle, quello che le avrei chiesto se avessi pensato che lei potesse darmi una risposta utile era "Perché la perdita di qualcuno che ami non dovrebbe distruggerti?

Credo che il motivo per cui gli adulti pensavo che una terapia regolare funzioni è perché, mentre la fanno, il tempo passa. Non stanno meglio perché ne parlano. Stanno meglio perché il tempo trascorre e loro imparano a vivere le loro vite perché devono farlo. Dobbiamo farlo

I think the reason grown-ups think regular therapy works is because time passes while they're in it. They're not really getting better because they're talking about it. They're getting better because time is passing and they're learning to live their lives again because they have to. We have to.

Odette nodded at my notebook, where I was writing as she spoke. 'Do the people in America really want to read this? People tell me to write these things down, but it's written inside of me. I almost hope for the day when I can forget.

From all this historical evidence, it ought to be clear that depression is often the central mood characteristic of adults whose bodies were assaulted, whose wills were broken in childhood, and whose anger was forcibly suppressed. The rage and resentment never disappear; they just take more covert and dangerous forms, dangerous to the self and, potentially, to others.

Community is a beautiful thing; sometimes it even heals us and makes us better than we would otherwise be.

A New World. A world where God has set up housekeeping, where God will live right with us, and we with Him. He'll wipe the tears from our eyes, and death will die. No more crying, no more sorrow, no more pain, no more.

I wash off the night in the water, my scrapes and aches numbed by the sea. My bones have become boughs, all scarred knees and gnarled kuckles. None of us are the same person we once were, since the human body replaces itself every seven years; there have been at least six different mes.

There exists, for everyone, a sentence - a series of words - that has the power to destroy you. Another sentence exists, another series of words, that could heal you. If you're lucky you will get the second, but you can be certain of getting the first.

It will be worth it, if in the end I manage To blank out whatever it is that is doing the damage. Then there will be nothing I know. My mind will fold into itself, like fields, like snow.

A good meal can somewhat repair / The eatings of slight love

In everyone there sleeps A sense of life lived according to love. To some it means the difference they could make By loving others, but across most it sweeps As all they might have done had they been loved. That nothing cures. An immense slackening ache, As when, thawing, the rigid landscape weeps, Spreads slowly through them — — Philip Larkin, from "Faith Healing," The Complete Poems of Philip Larkin , ed. Archie Burnett (Farrar, Straus, and Giroux, 2012)

We may never know when the right word will transform a person's life.

Mrs Bartholomew did not cry, because she had done all her crying for that so long ago.

here are the lost years won back with words,

I will have to learn how to survive them, and perhaps writing is a good means of survival. A way of not forgetting the ones who have disappeared, of continuing a dialogue.

And when you've been hurt once, you're afraid to try again later, in dread of enduring the same pain. You avoid getting hurt in an attempt to avoid suffering: for years, this principle will serve as my holy sacrament. So many lost years.)

Au début, la douleur était atroce, puis elle s'est dissipée. La douleur était comme un mur que j'avais franchi, passant de l'autre côté.

Parfois, on aime ses propres cicatrices.

Peut-être d'ailleurs aime-t-il entendre cette voix parce que précisément il ne peut comprendre les mots qu'elle prononce, et qu'ainsi il est sûr qu'ils ne le blesseront pas, qu'ils ne lui diront pas ce qu'il ne veut pas entendre, qu'ils ne poseront pas de questions douloureuses, qu'ils ne viendront pas dans le passé pour l'exhumer avec violence et le jeter à ses pieds comme une dépouille sanglante.

By embracing your mother wound as your yoga, you transform what has been a hindrance in your life into a teacher of the heart.

The healing process can only truly begin when we are willing to remember.