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“Everyone saw you lose it,' I whisper, doing my best to mentally block the pain like I have countless times before. It's usually as easy as building a mental wall around the pulsing torment in my body, then telling myself the pain only exists in that box so I can't feel it, but it isn't working so well this time. 'I didn't lose it.' He kicks the door three times when we reach it. 'You shouted and carried me out of there like I mean something to you.' I focus on the scar on his jaw, the stubble on his tan skin, anything to keep from feeling the utter destruction in my shoulder. 'You do mean something to me.' He kicks again. And now everyone knows.”

PainDisabilityVioletInjuredFourth WingViolet SorrengailRebecca YarrosDain AetosEhlers Danlos SyndromeMean Something
Book:Fourth Wing
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“Pat and Ian have since been to Kalgoorlie with metal detectors, scouring the red dirt in the hope of locating Lisa’s remains. If her clothes had something metal attached then the metal detector just might pick that up. Ian would locate something of interest with the detector then Pat would get down on her hands and knees and dig at the dirt, searching for her buried child.”

PainLostFamilyEventsCrimeConfusionTrue LifeDisappearedVanished
Book:Vanished: True Stories from Families of Australian Missing Persons
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“I have lost silence, and the regret I feel over that is immeasurable. I cannot describe the pain that invades a man once he has begun to speak. It is a motionless pain that is itself pledged to muteness; because of it, the unbreathable is the element I breathe. I have shut myself up in a room, alone, there is no one in the house, almost no one outside, but this solitude has itself begun to speak, and I must in turn speak about this speaking solitude, not in derision, but because a greater solitude hovers above it, and above that solitude, another still greater, and each, taking the spoken word in order to smother it and silence it, instead echoes it to infinity, and infinity becomes its echo.”

PainRegretSolitudeIsolation
Book:Death Sentence
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“. . . PTSD, and other illness terms as well, have become a way of claiming a right to legitimate pain and misfortune. It is as if, without the illness label, their anguish wouldn't be valid, and they wouldn't be granted a passport to what Susan Sontag once called citizenship in 'the kingdom of the sick.' [However, it is] only some realms in that kingdom [that] offer a refuge from the stigma of mental illnesses: the diseases that come to us from the outside, apparently through no fault of our own, like PTSD and the enigmatic Gulf War syndrome (GWS).”

PainMental HealthIllnessTraumaLabelsSicknessPtsdStigma
Book:Nobody's Normal: How Culture Created the Stigma of Mental Illness
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“I sighed softly and basked in the barrage of Ren's kisses- drowning kisses, soft kisses, sultry kisses, kisses that lasted a mere second, and kisses that lasted an eternity. It was easy to believe that my warrior-angel had captured me and had flown me up to heaven. A deep rumble echoed in his chest. I pulled back, laughing. "Are you growling at me?" He laughed softly, twisted my hair ribbon around his fingers, and pulled gently, loosening my braid. Biting my ear lightly, he whispered a threat, "You have been driving me crazy for three weeks. You're lucky all I'm doing is growling.”

RomanceRenKelsey
Author:Colleen Houck
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“When I was teaching in Padua, my sister died. I've told you that. I went into the Scrovegni Chapel there to look at the Giottos and I felt nothing. But I made myself look. He painted that chapel in 1305. Dante visited him. And in the scene of the Slaughter of the Innocents is one of the first realistic depictions of human tears. How they leave a trail down the cheek and hang for a moment on the jaw before falling. Someone noticed, seven hundred years ago. Someone knew my pain. That's what you do. Pay attention. It's not for yourself. It's for someone seven hundred years from now.”

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Book:Less Is Lost
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