But Chest Pain Quotes & Sayings

You don't want me to stand against the council. You want a magic wand, so you can walk around smacking people with it until everything's just the way you like it. But guess what, Faythe? Life doesn't work like that. Life bites, and the harder you fight it, the more leverage it has to tear your heart right out of your chest. And if you really want to wake this particular sleeping dog, the truth is that if you'd just taken that "damn ring" five years ago, none of this shit would ever have happened! — Rachel Vincent

When you drop a glass or a plate to the ground it makes a loud crashing sound. When a window shatters a table leg breaks or when a picture falls off the wall it makes a noise. But as for your heart when that breaks it s completely silent. You would think as it s so important it would make the loudest noise in the whole world or even have some ... Read Moresort of ceremonious sound like the gong of a cymbal or the ringing of a bell. But it s silent and you almost wish there was a noise to distract you from the pain. If there is a noise it s internal. It screams and no one can hear it but you. It screams so loud your ears ring and your head aches. It trashes around in your chest like a great white shark caught in the sea it roars like a mother bear whose cub has been taken. That s what it looks like and that s what it sounds like a trashing panicking trapped great big beast roaring like a prisoner to its own emotions. But that s the thing about love no one is untouchable. — Cecelia Ahern

Westcliff thinks that St. Vincent is in love with you."
Evie choked a little and didn't dare look up from her tea. "Wh-why does he think that?"
"He's known St. Vincent from childhood, and can read him fairly well. And Westcliff sees an odd sort of logic in why you would finally be the one to win St. Vincent's heart. He says a girl like you would appeal to ... hmm, how did he put it? ... I can't remember the exact words, but it was something like ... you would appeal to St. Vincent's deepest, most secret fantasy."
Evie felt her cheeks flushing while a skirmish of pain and hope took place in the tired confines of her chest. She tried to respond sardonically. "I should think his fantasy is to consort with as many women as possible."
A grin crossed Lillian's lips. "Dear, that is not St. Vincent's fantasy, it's his reality. And you're probably the first sweet, decent girl he's ever had anything to do with. — Lisa Kleypas

Jon Shannow, the King of Kings has spoken the words of your death. I am Rhodaeul the Hunter. Do you have anything to say before you die?' 'No,' said Shannow, palming his gun and blasting Rhodaeul from the saddle. The Atlantean hit the ground hard, a hammering pain in his chest; he tried to draw his pistol, but Shannow rode forward and fired a second shot that smashed his skull. — David Gemmell

He spent the next weeks blocking scenes of the bureaucrat fucking his wife. On the floor with cooking ingredients. Standing, with socks still on. In the grass of the yard of their new and immense house. He imagined her making noises she never made for him and feeling pleasures he could never provide because the bureaucrat was a man, and he was not a man. Does she suck his penis? he wondered. I know this is a silly thought, a thought that will only bring me pain, but I can't free myself of it. And when she sucks his penis, because she must, what is he doing? Is he pulling her hair back to watch? Is he touching her chest? Is he thinking of someone else? I'll kill him if he is. — Jonathan Safran Foer

And the music he was making wasn't frightening. It was achingly lovely. It was piercing, yet sweet. Powerful, yet simple. ( ... )
But I didn't move. And I didn't speak. I just listened. For how long, I don't know. And as I continued to listen, my heart began to ache with a feeling I had no name for. My heart felt swollen in my chest. I lifted my hand to my chest as if I could make it stop.
But with each note Wilson played, the feeling grew. It wasn't grief and it wasn't pain. It wasn't despair or even remorse. It felt more like ... gratitude. It felt like love. — Amy Harmon

Every "I hate you" echoing from her chest was followed by an "I love you" from his lips. Every time she begged him to let go, he told her he would be there forever. His hold was strong, his arms familiar, but it did nothing to take away her pain. — J.M. Darhower

I stood there, staring at the closed doors. I reached out and touched the bone handle.
You can fix this, I told myself. You can make this right. But I just stood there, frozen, Mal's words ringing in my ears. I bit down hard on my lip to silence the sob that shook my chest. That's good, I thought as the tears spilled over. That way the servants won't hear. An ache had started between my ribs, a hard, bright shard of pain that lodged beneath my sternum, pressing tight against my heart.
I didn't hear the Darkling move; I only knew when he was beside me. His long fingers brushed the hair back from my neck and rested on the collar. When he kissed my check, his lips were cold. — Leigh Bardugo

She had very much looked forward to a word in private with him. But she forgot, as she usually did, the silence that always came between them in these latter years, whenever they found themselves alone.

The queer sensation in her chest, however, was all too familiar, that mix of pleasure and pain, never one without the other.

She could have done without those feelings. She would have happily gone her entire life never experiencing the pangs of longing and the futility of regret. He made her human - or as human as she was capable of being. And being human was possibly her least favorite aspect of life. — Sherry Thomas

Westcliff sees an odd sort of logic in why you would finally be the one to win St. Vincent's heart. He says a girl like you would appeal to ... hmm, how did he put it? ... I can't remember the exact words, but it was something like ... you would appeal to St. Vincent's deepest, most secret fantasy."
Evie felt her cheeks flushing while a skirmish of pain and hope took place in the tired confines of her chest. She tried to respond sardonically. "I should think his fantasy is to consort with as many women as possible."
A grin crossed Lillian's lips. "Dear, that is not St. Vincent's fantasy, it's his reality. And you're probably the first sweet, decent girl he's ever had anything to do with."
"He spent quite a lot of time with you and Daisy in Hampshire," Evie countered.
That seemed to amuse Lillian further. "I'm not at all sweet, dear. And neither is my sister. Don't say you have been laboring under that misconception all this time? — Lisa Kleypas

I selected an enormous Marine Corps emblem to be tattooed across my chest. It required several sittings and hurt me like the devil, but the finished product was worth the pain. I blazed triumphantly forth, a Marine from throat to waist. The emblem is still with me. Nothing on earth but skinning will remove it. — Smedley Butler

As much as we want to deny it, betrayal and pain - whether real or imagined - are part of life. We can choose to grow past it or allow it to hold us tethered to the moment of our injury forever. Because one person chose the latter, we have all been deceived. But the time is coming when their deception and control will be exposed. No one can hold fire to their chest and not eventually be burned. — Michelle Bolanger

The amorous shepherd has lost his staff,
And his sheep are straying on the hillside,
And he didn't even play the flute he brought to play because he was thinking so much.
No one came to him or went away. He never found his staff again.
Others, cursing at him, gathered his sheep for him.
No one had loved him, in the end.

When he got up from the hillside and the false truth, he saw everything:
The great valleys full of the same green as always,
The great distant mountains, more real than any feeling,
All reality, with the sky and the air and the fields that exist, is present.
(And once again the air, that he'd missed for so long, entered coolly into his lungs)
And he felt that the air was opening again, but with pain, a liberty in his chest.

(7/10/1930) — Alberto Caeiro

stand trembling for a moment after he's gone. My heart thuds in my chest. So much pain. I had thought it would be over, but not all scars heal. Not all sins are forgiven. I — Pierce Brown

His head was thrown back, his chest
heaving, and the look on his face was more indicative of pain than
pleasure.
Rosemary snatched her fingers back, certain she'd
misunderstood the technique somehow.
But he whimpered piteously and she realized, no, she couldn't
have misunderstood. Because (a) she was a genius, and (b) it just
wasn't that complicated — Louisa Edwards

Roza ... "
The voice caressed my skin, cold and deadly. Still scrutinizing his surroundings, Dimitri took one step forward. Then another. And then another.
I think it occurred to him to look up the instant I jumped. My body slammed into his, knocking him to the ground back first. He immediately tried to throw me off, just as I tried to drive the stake through his heart. Signs of fatigue and fighting were all over him. Defeating the other Strigoi had taken its toll, though I doubted I was in much better shape. We grappled, and once, I managed to rake the stake over his cheek. He snarled in pain but kept his chest well protected. Over it, I could see where I'd ripped his shirt the first time I'd staked him. The wound had already healed. "You. Are. Amazing," he said, his words full of both pride and battle fury. — Richelle Mead

I was born an optimist, as I always say. If I wake up in the morning with a pain in my chest, I'll always assume it's indigestion. It will probably be the end of me! But it's true - that's the kind of person I am. — Terry Wogan

An ache filled my chest, so sharp that I gasped out loud. Was this what a broken heart felt like? Was it possible to die from the pain? I'd always thought the girls at school so dramatic; when they broke up with their boyfriends, they cried and carried on for weeks. I didn't think they needed to throw such a fuss. But I'd never been in love before. — Julie Kagawa

No one can ever use his heart to listen or touch or feel or see or smell. It's just a lump of muscle pumping mechanically inside your ribs. It has no will and no ability to do anything but go on pumping until it gives up and withers away or is choked by some disease. Your spinal cord, on the other hand, feels. The central nervous system pours out from the spinal cord, and with it one feels pain. Pain is the most trustworthy sensation a human being can know because it teaches us what hurts. With the spinal cord, one can hear what will hurt, smell the sting of suffering, taste it, feel it, and see the world with new eyes. I learned a long time ago not to follow my heart, the hunk of meat flexing in the chest. I trust the tube locked up in a column of bone, the tube that shows me what pain is. — Joshua S. Porter

The discovery of Viagra was a similar story. Initially, the drug had been tested as a treatment for chest pain (angina), and for that purpose it was a failure. Then patients started reporting a curious side effect. (Imagine those awkward conversations: "Doc, my chest still hurts ... but, um, I've been noticing an effect somewhere else ... ") — Chip Heath

I darted away from Geir and jmped through the gaping hole in the wall Will's body had made. The settling dust choked me, but I made it through and ran to Will. He was struggling to his feet, leaning heavily on his sword as the point dug into the cold ground. When I reached him, I dropped my swords and wrapped my arms around his chest.
"I've got you," I said, helping him lift his torso the rest of the way up. I heard a sickening snap in his chest as he groaned, and I knew something was broken. He buried his face into my shoulder and growled in pain. — Courtney Allison Moulton

PS, I want a stripper for my birthday," GQ announces. "Just decided now. Get on it."

"I'll make a couple calls," Garrett promises, but the second his friend wanders off, he confides, "He's not getting a stripper. We all chipped in to get him a new iPod. He dropped his in the koi pond behind Hartford House."

When I snicker, Garrett pounces like a mountain lion. "Holy shit. Was that a laugh? I didn't think you were capable of showing amusement. Can you do it again and let me film it?"

"I laugh all the time." I pause. "Mostly at you, though."

He grabs his chest in mock pain as if I've shot him. "You're terrible for a guy's ego, y'know that? — Elle Kennedy

Do you remember when I told you that I sometimes believe that you're not real? That I imagined you just to hurt myself?" Reed says softly with a bitterly self-effacing laugh that has nothing to do with humor. "I know now that you have to be real. This kind of pain cannot exist if you were imaginary," Reed's sexy voice breathes. I feel like I could reach out and touch him, he feels that close to me. "I know you exist, but you're like a sunset to me now - beautiful and so distant that no matter how fast I fly, I cannot reach you. You are always on the next horizon," Reed says sadly, and my breath catches in my throat as an unbelievable ache throbs in my chest. "Tel me where you are. I wil meet you
wherever you are in the world. I wil be there. Just you and me, I swear it. We don't have to endanger anyone else
we'l make sure Buns and Brownie and Zephyr are safe. Just you and me, I promise ... I wil meet you anywhere at anytime ... I wil ... — Amy A. Bartol

But somebody else had spoken Snape's name, quite softly.
"Severus ... "
The sound frightened Harry beyond anything he had experienced all evening. For the first time, Dumbledore was pleading.
Snape gazed for a moment at Dumbledore, and there was revulsion and hatred etched in the harsh lines of his face.
"Severus ... please ... "
Snape raised his wand and pointed it directly at Dumbledore.
"Avada Kedavra!"
A jet of green light shot from the end of Snape's wand and hit Dumbledore squarely in the chest. Harry's scream of horror never left him; silent and unmoving, he was forced to watch as Dumbledore was blasted into the air. For a split second, he seemed to hang suspended beneath the shining skull, and then he fell slowly backward, like a great rag doll, over the battlements and out of sight. — J.K. Rowling

His heart was racing and he took slow, deep breaths. And as he inhaled, he suddenly noticed a cold,hard object near the center of his body - like a hard core of earth that remains frozen all year long. This was the source of the pain in his chest, and the difficulty breathing. He had never known, until this moment , that such a thing existed inside him. Yet it was this pain, and this sense of being choked, that he needed. It was exactly what he had to acknowledge, what he had to confront. From now on, he had to make that cold core melt, bit by bit. It might take time, but it was what he had to do. But his own body heat wasn't enough to melt that frozen soil. He needed someone else's warmth. — Haruki Murakami

I envied the men. I envied the irresponsibility their surroundings and genitals allowed. I envied the artificial affection they bought. But most of all, I envied that flicker of euphoria they got to feel, like a quick sip of whiskey that warmed their chest and eased their pain. — Maggie Young

It was like being shot at by arrows in the chest, which when taken out would cause more pain than before.
Sometimes I can't help but wonder how much a man has to endure before its over, once and for all. — Chirag Tulsiani

The Ripe Fig
Now that You live here in my chest,
anywhere we sit is a mountaintop.
And those other images,
which have enchanted people
like porcelain dolls from China,
which have made men and women weep
for centuries, even those have changed now.
What used to be pain is a lovely bench
where we can rest under the roses.
A left hand has become a right.
A dark wall, a window.
A cushion in a shoe heel,
the leader of the community!
Now silence. What we say
is poison to some
and nourishing to others.
What we say is a ripe fig,
but not every bird that flies
eats figs. — Rumi

Love is like cigarettes. It gives you a little pleasure while you're at it, but leaves you with a bad taste in your mouth and a pain in your chest. — Loraine Despres

Ariel looked at her then, instead of the sky, instead of the horizon that surely beckoned to him. "Out of a thousand different winds, I think I can resist nine hundred and ninety-nine of them.
Now she was the one unable to swallow. "And the last one?"
"That one wrenches the beating heart from my chest, the blood from my veins, the marrow from my bones." Grasping her hand, he brought it up to his face and rubbed it against his cheek. Pain radiated from his pale skin, from his eyes, from his lips when they grazed her knuckles. "You've two birds to do your bidding, my fair huntress, but I want you to choose me, to love me above all others, to make the pain in my soul worthwhile ... or I would be free of you. — Lisa Mantchev

I can touch you," she marveled, and she couldn't
or at least didn't
resist the urge to further prove it by sliding her palm over the hot-smooth terrain of his chest until she felt as if she were holding his heartbeat in her hand.
"As much as you want," he said, and there was a trembling in him, but it wasn't from pain. — Laini Taylor

Cash misses his wife with a blank pain in his chest, and he misses his sisters and cousins, who have known him since he was a strong, good-looking boy. Everyone back there remembers, or if they are too young, they've been told. The old ones get to hang on the sweet, perfect past. Cash was the best at climbing trees; his sister Letty won the story bees. The woman who married Letty's husband's brother, a beauty named Sugar, was spotted one time drinking a root beer and had her picture in LIFE magazine. They all know. Now she has thin hair and a humped back but she's still Sugar, she gets to walk around Heaven, Oklahoma, with everybody thinking she's pretty and special. which she is. That's the trouble with moving away from family, he realizes. You lose your youth entirely, you have only the small tired baggage that is carried within the body. — Barbara Kingsolver

Emptiness felt like a living thing. A parasite growing in the center of your chest, somewhere behind your heart, taking every ounce of warmth and light and happiness and consuming it until there's nothing left. Emptiness feels like exhaustion, like there's no reason to fight, no reason to take another breath, no reason to try to survive. But emptiness also feels like freedom. Because it doesn't just take the good, it takes the bad, too--the anger, the bitterness, the pain--and when it's done, it leaves you with just you. A cold, shell-like echo of yourself, but still you. — Ava Jae

I have worn my heart on my sleeve because it is too painful to carry it inside my chest.
When I carry it on my sleeve, it has the freedom to exist, to beat in rhythm with the Universe.
I feel like I'm more alive and yes, there are those who out of curiosity will say or do things that can cause its delicate existence to feel pain and sorrow.
I would rather deal with that, than to put it back in its little cage where it knows nothing else but the rhythm of my body and my Ego.
My heart was never meant to be part of my Ego.
My heart was meant to experience the Soul. — C.C. Campbell

She shuddered and wrapped her arms across her chest. Hot tears spilled down her cheeks, and the pain in her throat swelled to an unbearable lump. The awful truth fell across her. He didn't want her. She'd only wanted to tell him how much she cared about him - about them - but he'd pushed her away. . . . — Jody Hedlund

I want to slap him.
Curse him.
Scream at him.
Slap him some more.
I want to reach a hand into his chest and squeeze that life-sustaining organ until he collapses from the lack of blood flow and the agonizing pain pummeling his heart until it's scarcely beating.
I want him to hurt so badly that he can barely breathe while strips tear from his heart.
I want him to feel everything I'm feeling.
To hurt as much as I do.
I want all that.
But I can't convince myself it's the truth.
Because I love him too much.
I don't want him to hurt like that. — Siobhan Davis

Whenever I'm with you it's as though someone has reached inside my chest, until the pain is almost more than I can bear. And when I'm not with you, I'd give anything to feel that way again." He heaved a deep sigh and continued. "But I ... I couldn't go another day as I was."
"And who are you now?" she asked.
"A man hopelessly in love with you. — Monique Martin

Thank you," he said. Luce felt her lips quiver and her eyes burn.
Before she knew what she was doing, she fell into Cam's
arms, felt his hands wrap around her back.
When his chin rested on the top of her head, she began to weep. He let her cry. Held her close. He whispered,
"You're so brave." Then Cam's arms shifted and his chest pulled lightly away. For a second, she felt cold and exposed, but then another chest, another pair of arms replaced Cam's. And she knew without opening her eyes
that it was Daniel. No other body in the universe fit hers so well.
"Mind if I cut in?" he asked softly.
"Daniel - " She clenched her fists and squeezed her arms around him, wanting to squeeze away the pain.
"Shhh." He held her like that for what might have been hours, rocking her slightly, cradling her in his wings until her tears had tapered off and the
weight in her heart had eased enough that she could breathe without sniffling. — Lauren Kate

A light which lives on what the flames devour,
a grey landscape surrounding me with scorch,
a crucifixion by a single wound,
a sky and earth that darken by each hour,
a sob of blood whose red ribbon adorns
a lyre without a pulse, and oils the torch,
a tide which stuns and strands me on the reef,
a scorpion scrambling, stinging in my chest--
this is the wreath of love, this bed of thorns
is where I dream of you stealing my rest,
haunting these sunken ribs cargoed with grief.
I sought the peak of prudence, but I found
the hemlock-brimming valley of your heart,
and my own thirst for bitter truth and art.

- Stigmata of Love — Federico Garcia Lorca

And as you see, poor Idris was ... persuaded,shall we say? Yes,persuaded to tell me about Tyre and his own route back to Al-Kal'as from there. Faysal, reveal to her his pain."
The Captain of the Guard dragged Idris forward. Faysal then ripped away his shirt, and Aminah gasped. Angry scars laced his bare chest, some of the burns still crusted and weeping. Tears tumbled down Aminah's face, but Idris did not raise his head to see them. "Forgive me" he mumered. — Michael O. Tunnell

William Burroughs was simultaneously old and young. Part sheriff, part gumshoe. All writer. He had a medicine chest he kept locked, but if you were in pain he would open it. He did not like to see his loved ones suffer. If you were infirm he would feed you. He'd appear at your door with a fish wrapped in newsprint and fry it up. He was inaccessible to a girl but I loved him anyway. — Patti Smith

He nodded at the sketchpad, still held in Dummy's claw, and it hurt, he didn't even want to think about how much that hurt, like a hole through his chest, another one, because yeah. "I was just going to smooth the pages out, I promise. Not going to, you know, toss it or anything." But he didn't reach for the pad again, message received, loud and clear.
Some things, he still wasn't allowed to touch. — Scifigrl47

I love her. She knows it. I don't hide the fact. But I don't think she knows how much I love her. How much my chest expands to a point of pain when she smiles. How I ache when I leave her, how my hands shake when I finally get to touch her again. She is everything I don't deserve, and everything I could ever hope to attain — Alessandra Torre

Because whatever was going on between him and Rachel and Cruz hurt like hell, but the pain was a pinprick compared to the satisfaction when Cruz growled his name or Rachel whimpered it. If he could just figure out a way for both of them to do it at the same time, they could tear his heart out of his chest and burn it to ash, and he'd still go to hell happy. — Kit Rocha

I think you're magicians because you're unhappy. A magician is strong because he feels pain. He feels the difference between what the world is and what he would make of it. Or what did you think that stuff in your chest was? A magician is strong because he hurts more than others. His wound is his strength. "Most people carry that pain around inside them their whole lives, until they kill the pain by other means, or until it kills them. But — Lev Grossman

She imagines her body curled in the narrow monk's bed, knees to chin, her own irrefutable geography, but she sees the blood of her futile heart seeping out over her chest and arms and legs, flooding across the rough wooden floor, down the narrow wooden stairs and out into the old soil of the garden. No roses, no, she does not even ask to make roses, just dissolution; most any night she asks just for that. — Michelle Latiolais

Tglhe heart is such a strange little beast - a lump of thick muscles with pipes sticking out. Sometimes I think my heart is made of rubber, and the world Stretches it and twists it so that it writhes in my chest and aches. This is why I have spent most of my time on this this planet here but hurting. Sometimes I think a heart of porcelain would be easier. Let it drop out of my rib cage and break on the floor, no heartbeat, the end. Instead, I get a bouncy heart That bleeds when the world claws at it but keeps beating through the pain. — Emery Lord

Being with her I feel a pain, like a frozen knife stuck in my chest. An awful pain, but the funny thing is I'm thankful for it. It's like that frozen pain and my very existence are one.
The pain is an anchor, mooring me here. — Haruki Murakami

You wanted strength."
"I still want it," Rhy whispered. "Every day. I wake up wanting to be a stronger person. A better prince. A worthy king. That want, it's like a fire in my chest. And then, there are these moments, these horrible, icy moments when I remember what I did ... " His hand drifted to his heart. "To myself. To you. To my kingdom. And it hurts ... ." His voice trembled. "More than dying ever did. There are days when I don't feel like I deserve this." He tapped the soul seal. "I deserve to be ... " He trailed off, but Kell could feel his brother's pain, as though it were a physical thing. — Victoria Schwab

Yeah, that was the goal - to fuck Prophet so hard and well that he slept like a baby. He moved so he was chest to back, thigh to thigh, the contact like a wrestling pose. He bit down on Prophet's neck where it met his shoulder, enough to leave a mark as he entered him. Prophet hissed at the intrusion, but Tom didn't stop. A slow, smooth push through the pain would make Prophet's body yield to him. "Relax, Proph," he said, more of a demand than a request, and the tension in Prophet's shoulders dissipated as Tom held his hips, rocked against him. "Fuck. Fuck," was all Prophet said when Tom didn't give him time to recover. He didn't need it, not the way Tom had opened him, was pressing him, holding him impaled with his cock. "Tommy . . ." That's the way the man should always sound when he says Tommy. Prophet — S.E. Jakes

The truth of it was he didn't want her. He wanted Mary Kate with every cell of his body. He missed everything about her. The feel of her sleeping at his side. Her gentle snores. Her soft brown curls tickling his nose enough to wake him from a sound sleep even on nights when he needed it most. Her smile. The smell of her. At odd moments he thought he had heard her laughter, or he'd catch a glimpse of her in the corner of an eye, but all of it was a lie, and every time it happened it was as if someone had ripped a deep wound in his chest. The pain was raw enough to make him want to take a razor to his wrist, but each time he considered acting upon the idea something stopped him, and so, he stumbled on barely alive and wishing for an end. At times he couldn't breathe, couldn't move without wanting to scream. — Stina Leicht

It was long assumed that heart disease manifested the same in men and women. But Dr. Legato found that men may experience the classic symptoms of chest pain that radiates down the left arm. Women often have symptoms including shortness of breath, nausea or vomiting, and back or jaw pain. A gender-neutral approach left many women under-diagnosed and under-treated and as a result many women died needlessly. — Jed Diamond

Egwene remembered her pity for poor Meidani. No sister should be treated in such a way. Imprisonment was one thing. But beating a woman down, toying with her, hinting at the torture to come? It was insufferable.
Each of these things was a pain inside of Egwene, a knife to the chest, piercing the heart. As the beating continued, she realized that nothing they could do to her body would ever compare to the pain of soul she felt at seeing the White Tower suffer beneath Elaida's hand. Compared with those internal agonies, the beating was ridiculous.
And so she began to laugh. — Robert Jordan

AMERICAN HERO
The man stepped right up, feet on top of a case of bottled beer. He placed his neck into a rope noose that was strung from the light fixture. He pulled it tight and leaped to the floor.

He hung for less than a minute, thinking nothing but the pain as he spun slowly in a circle; the spots in his eyes were bright red when he took a palmed razor blade and cut the rope, falling chest-first into the kitchen sink.

Then he packed his lunch for work. — Bill Shields

Soon he would be married and no longer living at Hagenheim Castle. He would forget her, and she would forget him. But if the pain in his chest was any indication, it might be a painful process. — Melanie Dickerson

Zane reached up to take Ty's wrist in a firm grip and pull his hand away, but he didn't let go. Ty was still, holding his breath as he waited. Slowly, Zane looked up at him. His dark eyes watered with pain and emotion. "We can still cut and run," he whispered. Ty's chest tightened, and his insides seemed to lurch with the words. He nodded as he let his fingers curl over, trying to touch the hand that still gripped his wrist. "We will. But I need revenge first," he said softly. Zane's brow furrowed as he loosened his fingers. "What for?" he asked quietly. "You," Ty answered simply. — Madeleine Urban

It hurts. It's like someone cut a hole right through my chest. It hurts, hurts, hurt, hurts. But I'll be fine. This pain too, will go away at last ... Just like the fire of the cigarette. How we met ... What we said ... It's all burning to ashes ... 'til there's no trace left. I don't want to admit it. — Minari Endou

I watch the waves swell and break down the coastline, swell and break. My chest threatens to crack on the left side.
The heart is such a strange little beast - a lump of thick muscle with pipes sticking out. Sometimes I think my heart is made of rubber, and the world stretches it and twists so that it writhes in my chest and aches. This is why I have spent most of my time on this planet here but hurting. Sometimes I think a hear of porcelain would be easier. Let it drop out of my rib cage and break on the floor, no heartbeat, the end. Instead, I get a bouncy heart that bleeds when the world claws at it but keeps beating though the pain. — Emery Lord

Whoever said it got easier with time was wrong, death never got easier. The pain dulls around your heart, numbing the spot the deceased inhabited in your chest-- but it was never easier. Loss was still loss-- a physical pain, a hurt that reaches deep inside you and smothers your soul, forever indenting their memory. No, death was still death, loss was still loss, and pain was still pain. Time didn't change that. — Kelsie Leverich

I remembered breathing through the pain in my chest, wishing I could say that love would conquer all, that our love was too strong to break. But life didn't work that way, and believing in that particular fairy tale wasn't something I could ever be so innocent as to pin my hopes and dreams on. — Staci Hart

Elli-" Neve lies down next to him. "It is not easy being friend with someone who has depression. Not because it's a burden, but because you love them. So their pain becomes your own." She rests her hand on his chest. "You really expect me to just sit by and do nothing ? — Nelou Keramati

And yet, I found I could survive. I was alert, I felt the pain - the aching loss that radiated out from my chest, sending wracking waves of hurt through my limbs and head - but it was manageable. I could live through it. I didn't feel like the pain had weakened over time, rather that I'd grown strong enough to bear it. — Stephenie Meyer

Men grow up expecting to be the hero of their own story. Women grow up expecting to be the supporting actress in somebody else's. As a kid growing up with books and films and stories instead of friends, that was always the narrative injustice that upset me more than anything else. I felt it sometimes like a sharp pain under the ribcage, the kind of chest pain that lasts for minutes and hours and might be nothing at all or might mean you're slowly dying of something mundane and awful. It's a feeling that hit when I understood how few girls got to go on adventures. I started reading science fiction and fantasy long before Harry Potter and The Hunger Games, before mainstream female leads very occasionally got more at the end of the story than together with the protagonist. Sure, there were tomboys and bad girls, but they were freaks and were usually killed off or married off quickly. Lady hobbits didn't bring the ring to Mordor. They stayed at home in the shire. — Laurie Penny

When the initial pain of shock wore off, I thought it strange I should feel the pain of his slap in my chest, but I did, and it hurt more than I ever thought possible. — C.J. Roberts

I quickly pulled away and walked to the edge of the water. Staring up at the darkened sky through tear filled eyes, I awaited the inevitable storm. With a heavy heart, I took in a long, sad breath. The time had come for me to end this. No delaying any longer, no excuses - it was now or never.
A searing pain tore through my chest. Though my heart had already made its choice long ago, the inevitable pain of having to let him go was something I had avoided until now. But I could no longer afford to be selfish and keep them both. It wasn't fair to either of them and I loved them far too much to continue putting my own wants and desires first. — Christi Anna

Her face crumpled and he felt her pain as if it was his own. He wanted to take it back, but just like that memory, it was always going to be there.
She worked to get control over her features, then said, "I'm sorry I didn't defend you. I'm sorry I didn't tell them you were my guest."
Jem hadn't thought he cared anymore, not really, but her words were tugging loose the hard, painful knot in his chest. "It's okay."
She shook her head. "It's not. It wasn't."
He reached out and cupped her cheek in his hand. He didn't know what else to say and all he wanted was to touch her skin, let her know that he wasn't that boy anymore and that she wasn't that girl. — Mary Jane Hathaway

Because just before I arrived, he showed up on the bus. He, meaning Damien.
He reminded me of the pain I'd felt when he died. He reminded me of what it's like to feel your heart explode in your chest cavity at the realization of living your life without the only person you've ever loved. And he reminded me of the promise I'd made to him months ago. I told him that I'd love him forever.
That I'd never let go.
But part of me wants to let go.
Deep down inside I know that I can't go on loving a ghost forever. I tell myself this every day. Then I see him and I forget about having those thoughts. Because when I do see him, he looks like the Damien I met on that humid summer day, who was smirking at me, and driving his candy apple red Cadillac in reverse. When I see him he looks so vivid.
So full of life.
Not so ... so ...
So dead. — Lauren Hammond

It's like a huge hole has been punched through my chest. But in a way I'm glad...the pain is my only reminder that he was real... — Stephenie Meyer

Nathan kept trying to reassure him. "It doesn't have to mean anything. Not to you. You can forget it, if you'd rather."
Matt listened to Nathan's heartbeat, fast and light like a deer flashing through sunshine and shadow. "Listen, Nathan ... "
Nathan was silent, but Matt could feel the immediate tension down his spine.
"I loved Rachel with all my heart. You're right, nothing changes that. But - I never wanted her the way I want you."
Nathan slid out from under him, rolled over. His face was different, grave but sort of lit from within in a way that gave Matt a funny pain in his chest. — Josh Lanyon

An unfamiliar pain ripped through my chest as I gazed down at her, constricting my throat. I couldn't explain it, but it was...nice. I wouldn't have traded the pain for anything in the world. — Kelley R. Martin

Something entirely unexpected happened to Bert. Yesterday he had seen her as a child grown up, today it was different. There was a pain in his chest and a hammering, the skin on his temples felt oddly tight, his hand trembled so that he almost dropped the bar he was holding. He leaned back against the wheel, staring at her but unable to speak. A long time seemed to pass before he could say anything, and the words sounded clumsy in his own ears. What — John Wyndham

Stigmata of Love
A light which lives on what the flames devour,
a grey landscape surrounding me with scorch,
a crucifixion by a single wound,
a sky and earth that darken by each hour,
a sob of blood whose red ribbon adorns
a lyre without a pulse, and oils the torch,
a tide which stuns and strands me on the reef,
a scorpion scrambling, stinging in my chest
this is the wreath of love, this bed of thorns
is where I dream of you stealing my rest,
haunting these sunken ribs cargoed with grief.
I sought the peak of prudence, but I found
the hemlock-brimming valley of your heart,
and my own thirst for bitter truth and art. — Federico Garcia Lorca

I'd still thought that everything I thought about that night-the shame, the fear-would fade in time. But that hadn't happened. Instead, the things that I remembered, these little details, seemed to grow stronger, to the point where I could feel their weight in my chest. Nothing, however stuck with me more than the memory of stepping into that dark room and what I found there, and how the light then took that nightmare and made it real. — Sarah Dessen

But for now he was alone and hurt and broken on the ground, the man, gravely wounded. Worse, he knew himself a fool, knew himself a loser, knew himself too late, and defeated, ruined by his own hand, near to death.
It was the end and then this happened. The wound in his chest, red and burning, open like an eye, an ear, a mouth, began to glow.
It glowed and warmed until it embered him. Flowers closest to where he lay started to wilt in the heat of it. But inside the man, the heat changed into something else. The first thing he felt it become was courage and the next thing was desire.
They went through him, but with a roughness he'd never known. Then instead of in pain he was thirsty, but with a thirst he'd never known. The heat and the glow and the thirst combined and melted the man into someone he'd never been.
He heard a noise. It was the roar of water.
Up he got off the ground to go and sort himself out. — Ali Smith

Daniel felt a sudden pang of regret that something of importance was coming to an end, something so important that it was as if his very life was ending. He struggled to control his voice, while at the same time he became aware of a real pain gripping his chest. He had survived the time of oppression but not the time of freedom. — Ivan Klima

He squeezed me hard and kissed my cheek. "I love you, Jordy."
I'd told Owen that I loved him before, but at that moment, I couldn't say it. Because what I meant by it and what he meant by it were two different things. And right now the gulf between them was so big and so awful that I couldn't stand it.
The reality sank in. I would never have Owen like that again. An intense, burning pain spread through my chest. It was so strong it took my breath away.
"It hurts," I whispered.
"I'm sorry, Jordan," He hugged me tighter. I could feel his tears on my cheek, but I had none of my own to give. — Eli Easton

Yes. Kissing. Overrated."
"I could change your mind," Zach said, surprising the hell out of them both. Why would he take something as simple as this banter as a challenge? "I don't know that I want to, but I feel right sure I could."
"How arrogant. How typically male."
"I suppose." He shrugged and reached for the wine bottle. "More?"
She nodded, frowning now. "How do you know you could change my mind? It's been a long time since you ... well - "
"Over two years." The pain was there, an ache in his chest he imagined he would feel every time he thought of Hannah.
And he thought of her every day. Dreamed of her about as often. But lately, maybe only in the past week, he'd begun to realize that his life had not ended with his wife's.
He either had to die or start living again. — Tracy Sumner

I looked down at my chest, figuring there had to be a bullet hole. Or an arrow sticking out. Something to explain the pain. But then I realized it was just my heart. Breaking. — A&E Kirk

Promise me," he whispers, "that you won't go. For me. Do this one thing for me." Could I do that? Could I stay here, fix things with him, let someone else die in my place? Looking up at him, I believe for a moment that I could. And then I see Will. The crease between his eyebrows. The empty, simulation-bound eyes. The slumped body. Do this one thing for me. Tobias's dark eyes plead with me. But if I don't go to Erudite, who will? Tobias? It's the kind of thing he would do. I feel a stab of pain in my chest as I lie to him. "Okay." "Promise," he says, frowning. The pain becomes an ache, spreads everywhere - all mixed together, guilt and terror and longing. "I promise. — Veronica Roth

He looked up, expecting to see a couple of EMTs bearing down on him with a stretcher, but his heart stuttered when the crowd shifted and Celida appeared. She stopped dead when she saw him, both hands flying up to cover her mouth and nose. Then she dropped her hands and raced toward him, dark ponytail streaming behind her. He watched her face crumple a second before she reached him and a different kind of pain lit up in his chest. Beat up as he was, there was no way he couldn't reach for her. He held out his — Kaylea Cross

It was a good death. A very good death. She closed her eyes, and an hour later she gasped twice and let out one long exhale, as if her body were sighing in relief as her soul flew free of its corporeal cage. And it was strange ... Nalla woke up at that moment and the young focused not on her granhmen, but above the bed. Her little chubby hands reached high, and she smiled and cooed as if someone had just stroked her cheek.
Rehv stared down at the body. His mother had always believed she would be reborn unto the Fade, the roots of her faith planted in the rich soil of her Chosen upbringing. He hoped that was true. He wanted to believe she lived on somewhere.
It was the only thing that eased the pain in his chest even slightly. — J.R. Ward

He needs to tell me what he knows before he gets anything else from the Grahams."

She folded her arms across her chest and gave him her best "you will do what I say" look. He only shrugged and kept drinking his coffee.

Eva frowned at her. "Hija, you must be nice to Ranger Armstrong. His is a good man."

Oliviva snorted. "I'll believe that when he treats me like a person instead of a pain in the ass."

"You are a pain in the ass."

At first she could hardly believe he'd said it, but then when it sank in, a chuckle burst out of her mouth. She didn't want to be amused by his smart mouth, but she was. "So are you. Now tell me what you know. — Emma Lang

He brought the knife down. Helplessly, Nicholas watched it head for his chest, but before but before it got there, a hand flew out of nowhere to meet it. The knife passed through the hand like it was water, but the the hilt jammed into the palm, trapping it an inch before the knife point could pierce Nicholas's chest. Albert turned in confusion to see Simon standing there with the knife clear through his hand. He looked too amazed to feel the pain.
"Simon? But your useless," Albert said, shocked.
"I'm just as surprised as you are," Simon replied, — Scott Mebus

The pain was as unexpected as a thunderclap in a clear sky. Eddis's chest tightened, as something closed around her heart. A deep breath might have calmed her, but she couldn't draw one. She wondered if she was ill, and she even thought briefly that she might have been poisoned. She felt Attolia reach out and take her hand. To the court it was unexceptional, hardly noticed, but to Eddis it was an anchor, and she held on to it as if to a lifeline. Sounis was looking at her with concern. Her responding smile was artificial. — Megan Whalen Turner

That's it, I'm going to beat you down and make you sorry."
Xypher froze as he braced himself for her attack.
But instead of her giving him pain, she tickled him. It took him several seconds before he realized her intent. By then she was pouting.
"You're not ticklish. Well, that stinks." She sat back and crossed her arms over her chest, hiding the breasts he loved to tease.
"I'm sorry," he said, trying to cheer her. "If it'll make you happy, I'll pretend to be."
"No it's okay. Can't have everything, I suppose." She paused at the edge of the bed. "But you come darn close."
"Close to what?"
"Being perfect. Only you're more than that, Xypher. You're wonderful."
Xypher couldn't move as she left him to go to the bathroom. He couldn't breathe as those words sank into his consciousness. She thinks I'm wonderful ... — Sherrilyn Kenyon

She buried her face against his chest, solid and broad, allowing herself this moment to fully lean on him, take some of the strength he readily offered. "I don't regret my choice," she said, her voice muffled as she pressed herself tight. "If I had to, I'd make the exact same decisions. But it hurts so damned much."
"Give me your pain, love," he said holding her against the steady beat of his heart. "Let me take it for you."
She shook her head. "No, the pain is mine to bear. I need it." She took a ragged breath. "To make me stronger. — Zoe Archer

Pain lanced through his neck. He gasped and his eyes flew open; Simon was sitting up on him, staring down with wide eyes, his hand across his own mouth. Simon's wounds were gone, though fresh blood stained the front of his shirt.
Jace could feel the pain of his bruised shoulders again, the slash across his wrist, his punctured throat. He could no longer hear his heart beating, but he knew it was slamming away inside his chest.
Simon took his hand away from his mouth. The fangs were gone. "I could have killed you," he said. There was a sort of pleading in his voice.
"I would have let you," said Jace. — Cassandra Clare

Your gaze fixated on him, my imagination deducing your conclusion. The agony sets in, this pain is unsurpassable with despair adjoining. But I can feel my heart knocking against my chest. So I'll attempt to push ahead for my behalf. — Anonymous

Jessica, you are a pain in the arse, do you know that? If I were not so immensely fond of you, I should throw you out the window."
She wrapped her arms about his waist and laid her head against his chest. "Not merely 'fond,' but 'immensely fond.' Oh Dain, I do believe I shall swoon."
"Not now," he said crossly. "I haven't time to pick you up. — Loretta Chase

What worries me though, is that after all those victories people don't see me as a human being anymore. I am not a machine, I have a heart beating in my chest -not an engine, there's blood in my veins- not oil. I know pain and fatigue. I can lose but I will strive to win everything. — Evgeni Plushenko

I have a cat, so I know that when she digs her very sharp claws into my chest or stomach it's really a sign of affection, but I don't see any reason for programming languages to show affection with pain. — Erik Naggum

And what is love, Angel? What is love! he yelled. Is it a pressure inside that makes me want to scream when you do this? he palmed his chest roughly, Is it my body in constant chaos when you're around me? Is it murder in cold blood when I even think of you being with anybody but me! he roared. Or maybe it's not being able to think or speak when your life is in danger, or wanting to spend every second - of every - fucking day with you, wanting to never leave your side. Is that love? Is it, Isadore? He drew closer and hit his fist repeatedly against his chest. Is it pain so hard and heavy that I can't fucking breathe unless I smell you, touch you, taste you? His body heaved as his bright green gaze seared her heart. Because if it is, Angel...he held his lips together and shook his head slowly, then I am....slain with an eternal and violent love for you. — Lucian Bane

I tasted the salt on my own lips, and the bitter taste of blood on his. It was a desperate kiss, the sort of kiss that marks a lovers' parting, a kiss of sorrow and regret and a kind of blind and wordless promise. I would have risen up when it was finished, but he held me close, his hand stroking my hair. "I'll hurt your chest," I protested, but he shook his head. "I am past pain," he lied, "and I've always had a fancy to die in my lover's arms. 'Tis most romantic. — Susanna Kearsley

He glanced down at his naked chest. "Where's my shirt?" Cheeks heating, Tori reached behind him and snagged the dangling shirt sleeve and held it open for him to push his left arm through. When she finally found the wherewithal to look him in the face again, the teasing look in his pain-filled eyes nearly toppled her onto her backside. "Knew you liked my muscles." Of all the . . . Oh, who was she kidding? She did like his muscles. Though they both knew that had nothing to do with his shirt being undone. "Modesty is obviously not one of your virtues." She'd tried to make the statement sound prim, but it filtered through her smile and came out sounding flirtatious instead. Her. Flirtatious. Good grief. Head injuries must be contagious. Offering — Karen Witemeyer

He pulled back, his chest heaving, and looked at her angrily. "Don't start something you mean to stop." She met his gaze squarely. "I don't mean to stop." His eyes narrowed. "I cannot give you marriage." She'd known. She'd never thought he could - she would've sworn so had she been asked a minute earlier - but his blunt words were an arrow of pain piercing her heart nonetheless. She bared her teeth in a smile. "Have I asked you to?" "No." "And I never shall," she vowed. — Elizabeth Hoyt