Eat bitter, taste sweet," Frank said. "I hate that proverb." "But it's true. What do they call it these days---no pain, no gain? Same concept. You do the easy thing, the appealing thing, the peaceful thing, mostly it turns out sour in the end. But if you take the hard path---ah, that's how you reap the sweet rewards. Duty. Sacrifice. They mean something.
Some pain shouldn’t be wished away so easily. It has to be dealt with, even embraced.
Humor was a good way to hide the pain.
Percy’d heard stories about amputees who had phantom pains where their missing legs and arms used to be. That’s how his mind felt—like his missing memories were aching.
He was the class clown, the court jester, because he'd learn early that if you cracked jokes and pretended you weren't scared, you usually didn't get beat up. Even the baddest gangster kids would tolerate you, keep you around for laughs. Plus, humor was a good way to hide the pain
June smiled. "So what will it be? Safety, or a future of pain and possibility?"
No doubt Carter would describe the underground city in excruciating detail, with exact measurements of each room, boring history on every statue and hieroglyph, and background notes on the construction of the magical headquarters of the House of Life. I will spare you that pain. It's big. It's full of magic. It's underground. There. Sorted.
Imagine jumping into a pit of boiling acid. Now multiply that pain times fifty." -Percy
Plus, humor ws a good way to hide the pain. And if that didn't work, there was always Plan B. Run aaway. Over and over.
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