There are violent things in my heart. Perhaps they have been festering there ever since that change. And now I have run in here to find some different pain, some mystery of myself to keep secret, something which, for this short time, is absolutely not Jack.

I tried to think these thoughts but they remained intolerably abstract, while a pain in my body told me what was real.

She thought, I shall die of misery and pain.

He did not touch her but enjoyed the particular intimate pain of the tension between them.

With a fluency that amazed me lies and treachery streamed from my lips. I was in extreme pain.

Some inner organ would give way, her heart would literally break, if she did not see him soon.

Deep, deepest inside his wounded heart. he felt the new pain, the pain which would now travel with him always.

Mary held her heart, contracted into a point of agony.

His heart ached in such a familiar way, and the very familiarity of it pained him.