Quotes About Relief

That no one dies of migraine seems to someone deep in an attack as an ambiguous blessing.

She saw. And, painful though the knowledge was, it was also a relief. She had not failed with Arthur, nor had Morgan stolen him from her. He had belonged to Morgan long before she came into his life.

We're relieved—and that's what makes us both feel so terrible. Can you imagine? To me, that would be the ultimate disgrace, to leave behind people who felt relief rather than sorrow at my passing. It would mean that I hadn't added value to this world. That I hadn't earned my keep as one of God's creatures. Isn't that the least we owe our Creator for all this splendor? To make a mark, to effect a change, to lighten a load, to do something to repay Him for this gift of life?

Deeply and soundly. Doc gave me something to help me sleep and I didn't even know that I was taking it. It knocked me out for a solid eight hours and that's the most sleep I've had in weeks.

Even the damned can dream - infact, it's part of their torment. To escape, even for a second or two, to forget reality and drift, only to be yanked back into the waking world like a fish caught on a line... Yes. In some ways that's even worse than to have no relief at all. That second of two, on awakening, when anything still seems possible

It was nice not having to be the one in control, for a little while. It was nice to be the one who was protected, instead of the one who'd been protecting eveyone else.

It made me think of my mother, when she made her pie crusts. She'd prick little holes all over the place. So it can breath, she said. I was just breathing. I closed my eyes, anticipating each cut, feeling that wash of relief when it was done.

I'm glad I woke up. I always have the sh..tiest dreams, stuff like being late for everything or being pregnant or painfully dying.

If you have a lot of tension and you get a headache, do what it says on the aspirin bottle: Take two aspirin and Keep away from children.

Relief was what I was looking for that day, and I didn't care how I got it. What I wanted - what I needed - was a pain that I could see and deal with. I couldn't cope with the mess inside of me any longer, and cutting myself seemed to be the best solution. I knew that it would work. What I didn't know was that I was about t engage in a behavior that was not just dangerous but highly, highly addictive.

And sometimes there is relief, sometimes there is new inner energy, and one stands up after it; till at last, someday, one perhaps doesn't stand up any more, que soit, but that is nothing extraordinary, and I repeat, in my opinion, such is the common.

We know the speaker has received adequate empathy when a. we sense a release of tension, or b. the flow of words comes to a halt.

This pouring thoughts out on paper has relieved me. I feel better and full of confidence and resolution.

Jesus who cannot suffer long to keep you in affliction will come to relieve and comfort you by infusing fresh courage into your soul.

There is a lot of relief for daters who are serious about wanting to be in a relationship. This comes in the form of what appears to be dramatic changes like speed dating and Internet dating.

Death is the wish of some, the relief of many, and the end of all.

Take me away from all this Death.

Death is a release from and an end of all pains.

Living is a sickness to which sleep provides relief every sixteen hours. It's a palliative. The remedy is death.

The only cure for a real hangover is death.

They all deserve to die. Even you, Mrs. Lovett Even I. Because the lives of the wicked should be made brief For the rest of us death would be relief.

When I can't sleep, I always wrap something around my neck and close my eyes and imagine myself being strangled to death. Then I can fall asleep--it feels like sinking deep underwater

You go to someone and you think, "I'll tell him this." But why? The impulse is that the telling is going to relieve you. And that's why you feel awful later—you've relieved yourself, and if it truly is tragic and awful, it's not better, it's worse—the exhibitionism inherent to a confession has only made the misery worse.

Sometimes joking is a relief from seriousness.