hurts you. It is an everlasting pain in you, a wound that does not heal, a knife of flame. - Jack London

As one grows weaker one is less susceptible to suffering. There is less hurt because there is less to hurt.

In this manner had fought forgotten ancestors. They quickened the old life within him, the old tricks which they had stamped into the heredity of the breed were his tricks... And when, on the still cold nights, he pointed his nose at a star and howled long and wolflike, it was his ancestors, dead and dust, pointing nose at star and howling down through the centuries and through him.

Their hate bound them together as love could never bind.