But who can remember pain, once it's over?

Time cancels young pain.

...when pain is over, the remembrance of it often becomes a pleasure.

Pleasure is nothing else but the intermission of pain.

But who can remember pain, once it’s over? All that remains of it is a shadow, not in the mind even, in the flesh. Pain marks you, but too deep to see. Out of sight, out of mind.

Pain's nothing. Pain's what you give, not what you get.

When someone can touch what used to be a wound and it no longer hurts you, then you know you have truly forgiven.

No wearisome days, no sorrowful nights; no hunger or thirst; no anxiety or fears; no envies, no jealousies, no breaches of friendship, no sad separations, no distrusts or forebodings, no self-reproaches, no enmities, no bitter regrets, no tears, no heartaches; "And there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain; for the former things are passed away."

Pain is short, and joy is eternal.

There is no pain so great as the memory of joy in present grief.

There is no suffering for him who has finished his journey, and abandoned grief, who has freed him self on all sides, and thrown off all fetters.

It is said that mourning, by its gradual labour, slowly erases pain; I could not, I cannot believe this; because for me, Time eliminates the emotion of loss (I do not weep), that is all. For the rest, everything has remained motionless. For what I have lost is not a Figure (the Mother), but a being; and not a being, but a quality (a soul): not the indispensable, but the irreplaceable.

Pain is never permanent.

Cuando se aprende la lección, el dolor desaparece.