Anything, anything would be better than this agony of mind, this creeping pain that gnaws and fumbles and caresses one and never hurts quite enough

Much more likely you’ll hurt me. Still what does it matter? If I’ve got to suffer, it may as well be at your hands, your pretty hands.

Through me the way into the suffering city,Through me the way to the eternal pain,Through me the way that runs among the lost.Justice urged on my high artificer;My maker was divine authority,The highest wisdom, and the primal love.Before me nothing but eternal things were made,And I endure eternally.Abandon every hope, ye who enter here.

I was starting to come to grips with the fact that I had created a lot of pain and suffering around me, not just within me.

Without a word or hesitation, Pain took the mop from Nick. Suffering moved to pick up glass.
"Wow. Where have you two been all my life?"
Pain quirked and eyebrow as he mopped the floor.
"Walking hand in hand with you. Haven't you noticed?

Neither sex, without some fertilization of the complimentary characters of the other, is capable of the highest reaches of human endeavor.