Every loss is unprecedented. You can’t ever know someone else’s hurt, not really—just like touching someone else's body isn’t the same as having someone else’s body.

All hurt is brain hurt.

The missing piece in his stomach hurt so much-and eventually he stopped thinking about the Theorem and wondered only how something that isn't there can hurt you.

You lie there, not even thinking really, except to try to consider how to describe the hurt, as if finding the language for it might bring it up out of you. If you can make something real, if you can see it and smell it and touch it, then you can kill it.

Every loss is unprecedented. You can't ever know someone else's hurt, not really...

Nuts, arms, stomachs -- they never hurt. All hurt is brain hurt.

Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.

It hurt, and that is not a euphemism. It hurt like a beating.

Hurt tends to drown out sorry.