Paine Underwood Quotes

And then she started crying, tears which crawled slowly, silently down her cheeks, as though pain had finally found an avenue of escape.

Jeanette smiled tenderly at Caroline and then at me. Laura reached out and placed her hand on Caroline’s cheek. She said, “There is no pain so great that God cannot heal it. Believe me, I know.

There was nothing to do but forge ahead, so they mounted horses and wagons, and headed deeper into the mountain, ever leery of the dead soldier’s jacket, of phantom Indians who had taken great pains to hide the place which they sought so hard to find, and of the sporadic eerie rustling of a single tree among many as they descended. Wyn could not help but wonder if some long-dead spirits were trying to warn them away, as they got closer to Whisper Valley…

Even in this state, after what had been done to her, she was beautiful. Behind the pain in her eyes lived spring, if they hadn't crushed it into a permanent winter." - Night Run

Another tear rolled slowly down her cheek, like liquid pain escaping from her broken heart.

I briefly consider keying her precious BMW, but quite frankly, I don't have the energy to go all Carrie Underwood on her ass. I still have over an hour drive ahead of me. -Jackson 'Blame It on the Pain

I’d sought out these lonely roads because I was hurt and lonely, and that’s what the hurt and lonely do; seek out a place far from people, far from the happiness which is painfully just out of their reach. For those rejected by love, chewed up by romance and spit out like unwanted seeds in a flavorful melon, the night is a sanctuary, a trusted friend. The darkness comforted you, placed an unseen arm around your shoulder so you wouldn’t be alone in your misery.

It had been a relief to get back downstairs. They took their time, looking for anything which might indicate where Ballard was now. It was Scott who found the dungeon. Chains and a system of pulleys opened the floor, and with more than a little trepidation, they descended the ancient stone steps into the darkness. Suzy whined, and for once refused to follow her master. Brooke patted her head and said, “You keep guard up here, girl, okay?” Suzy was more than eager to remain right where she was. Because it was morning, neither had brought a starlight collector, but they’d found some candles and a holder. The stench was putrid, the foul-smelling air making them gag as they plunged bravely downward into the darkness. When they reached the bottom, the malodorous stench was overwhelming. Brooke held the candle holder up, moving it back and forth. The mix of candlelight and gloomy shadows revealed a room of torture apparatuses; a spiked Judas chair; a spiked cabinet which could be shut on its victims, known as an Iron Maiden; a Guillotine; a Brazen Bull where a victim could be roasted to death; a Strappado for painfully dislocating arms; a sawhorse-looking device called a Spanish Donkey, used during the Inquisition to slice a wedge through the body, beginning at the genitals; a Catherine Wheel, used as late as the nineteenth century for criminal punishment in Germany; a Judas Cradle, which worked on the same principle as the Spanish Donkey. On a long table, were various tools of torture, including a Head Crusher; a Knee Splitter; a Spanish Tickler, or Cat’s Paw; a Heretic’s Fork; the Pear of Anguish; the Boot; the Tongue Tearer and the Breast Ripper. Brooke had taken a class on Medieval times once, not realizing how much cruelty the age had fostered. Scott was not as familiar with the period and its various devices, but there was no doubt as he gazed upon their shadowed contours in the candlelight, something unimaginably heartless, and sickeningly inhuman existed in the depths of this outwardly beautiful castle. It was like discovering the inside of the gorgeous, smiling woman you’d just met was filled with worms.

Only when I’d see a young girl I’d known in high school, walking down the street hand-in-hand with her returned soldier, did the deeper pain return.

We lived —or rather had lived —in a society which had come to view the father as almost superfluous. But people of common sense knew better. For a boy growing up, it was someone who could show him how a man acts and conducts himself. But for a young girl, it was that, and her first exposure to how she should be treated and viewed by the opposite sex. Because of him, when someone treated her differently, she would know in her heart that it wasn’t right. With her father to lean against, she could find the courage to walk away; even after a mistake borne from growing pains. She could do so because her father loved her and had given her self-esteem. She knew he would always be there for her, his love unconditional.

There are two kinds of pain. The sort of the pain that makes you strong, or useless pain. The sort of pain is only suffering.

Because grief changes people. It sculpts you into a person better equipped to handle the pain.

Jesus felt weak & tired, He got frustrated, He wept aloud, He grieved, He sweat blood from great stress & anxiety, He felt physical pain. This is who you’re praying to. The One who knows.