Quotes About Healing

There is that in thee, poor lad, which I feel too curing to my malady. Like cures like; and for this hunt, my malady becomes my most desired health.

La conciencia representa la herida cuya hemorragia nada puede contener.

for we are all somehow dreadfully cracked about the head, and sadly need mending.

Para un ser sensible, la pena supone muchas veces dolor. Y cuando por fin uno se da cuenta de que esta pena no aporta una ayuda efectiva, el sentido común ordena al alma que se deshaga de ella.

There's a special place kept for the person who first breaks your heart.

Still, we will let all this be a thing of the past, though it hurts us, and beat down by constraint the anger that rises inside us. Now I am making an end of my anger. It does not become me, unrelentingly to rage on

But it gained us nothing —what good can come of grief?

scattering medicines that still pain, healed him, since he was not made to be one of the mortals.

Um médico, só por si, vale alguns homens.

I miss her when I can't remember what works best on insect bites, and when nobody else cares how rude the receptionist at the doctor's office was to me. Whether she actually would have flown in to act as baby nurse or mailed me cotton balls and calamine lotion if she were alive isn't really the issue. It's the fact that I can't ask her for these things that makes me miss her all over again.

Someone did us all a grave injustice by implying that mourning has a distinct beginning, middle, and end.

When a mother dies, a daughter's mourning never completely ends.

When a daughter loses a mother, the intervals between grief responses lengthen over time, but her longing never disappears. It always hovers at the edge of her awareness, ready to surface at any time, in any place, in the least expected ways. This isn't pathological. It's normal. It's why you find yourself, at twenty-four, or thirty-five or forty-three, unwrapping a present or walking down an aisle or crossing a busy street, doubled over and missing your mother

When a mother dies too young, something inside her daughter always feels incomplete. There's a missing piece she continues to look for, an emptiness she keeps trying to fill. The

she loses not only her mother but also the encouragement and revalidation of the self she needs as well as the real sharing she would want to do with her mother at that time." It

there's no good way to lose a loved one—just, in the words of one twenty-six-year-old woman, "different kinds of hell.

Isn't there something I can talk about that won't remind you that you wish you were dead?' I asked. 'No,' she said.

It was a long time ago , but people make mistakes when they think they can barry the past . It can simlpy flow to the surface .

Success is powerful medicine.

When the song of the angels is stilled, when the star in the sky is gone, when the kings and princes are home, when the shepherds are back with their flocks, the work of Christmas begins: to find the lost, to heal the broken, to feed the hungry, to release the prisoner, to rebuild the nations, to bring peace among the people, to make music in the heart.

Those tears, that anger, cast into the past, deplete our moral energy for the present.

Fernando Condés, an intimate friend of Castillo. Condés was broken by Castillo's death.

No interesa lo que me pasó, sino las cicatrices que me marcan y distinguen.

A scar had been beaten into his mind which would only heal by experience.