Quotes About Scars

To me, I see scars of courage. Inflicting them gave him the strength to survive the pain that's plagued him all his life. I'm grateful to every one of them because he's still here, with me.

I thought of how proud he was when he took the marks- cutting the skin of his throat in a long slash and then packing it with ashes until keloid scars rose up. He called it his second smile.

I don't want people to fall in love with my smile, my face or my body. I am waiting for somebody to love the mess I can be and fall in love with my emotional scars.

I asked them: Does it hurt? And the scar people nodded, yes. But it felt somehow wonderful, they said. For one long second, it felt like the world was holding them close.

Sometimes you could see the scars and sometimes you couldn't. But everybody had them.

Because nobody goes through life without a scar.

It's a shallow life that doesn't give a person a few scars.

How right that the body changed over time, becoming a gallery of scars, a canvas of experience, a testament to life and one's capacity to endure it.

The human race tends to remember the abuses to which it has been subjected rather than the endearments. What's left of kisses? Wounds, however, leave scars.

All were wealthy and at the peaks of their careers, but all also bore the scars of nineteenth-century life, their pasts full of wrecked rail cars, fevers, and the premature deaths of loved ones.

The brown blotches of the benevolent skin cancer the sun brings from its reflection on the tropic sea were on his cheeks. The blotches ran well down the sides of his face and his hands had the deep-creased scars from handling heavy fish on the cords. But none of these scars were fresh. They were as old as erosions in a fishless desert.

But none of these scars were fresh,They were as old as erosions in a fishless desert.

his hands had the deep-creased scars from handling heavy fish on the cords. But none of these scars were fresh. They were as old as erosions in a fishless desert.

The fear of death was my truest shield. Now the walls have collapsed. And here I am, defenseless, exposed to the blazing inferno of life, and in the freezing grip of despair. I wanted life and life has hurled itself at me. It's crippling me, killing me. Why didn't I have the sense to welcome resignation? All my old scars have opened, my wounds are bleeding again. Thousands of knives are driving into my flesh.

A jizva? Pro rytíÃ…â"¢a je to ?estná památka, známka slávy a proslulosti, když mu ju kapitula tak pÃ…â"¢ála. RytíÃ…â"¢ bez jizvy je kokot, a ne hrdina. Optej sa ho, hrabÄ›, uvidíÅ¡, že je rád.

It's one of the scars in our culture that we have too high an opinion of ourselves.

A lot of us grow up and we grow out of the literal interpretation that we get when we're children, but we bear the scars all our life. Whether they're scars of beauty or scars of ugliness, it's pretty much in the eye of the beholder.

Scars are the price you pay for success.

Every burn on my body has had its own different personality. And all of them needed different things.

I've got more bruises and scars on my legs than should be there. And I'm a physical person. That's why I like action movies. I like to get real into it all and get real down and dirty.

Robin felt her luck, these days, at having two loving parents. Her work had taught her how many people weren't that fortunate, how many people had families that were broken beyond repair, how many adults walked around carrying invisible scars from their earliest childhood, their perceptions and associations forever altered by lack of love, by violence, by cruelty.

Children show scars like medals. Lovers use them as a secrets to reveal. A scar is what happens when the word is made flesh.

the mural, there were painted lines for the Underground, like scars stretched across the skin of the infected nation. There were wounds and then there were wounds.

He put a hand to the cool, painted stones bearing witness to so many names, so many histories. In the mural, there were painted lines for the Underground, like scars stretched across the skin of the infected nation. There were wounds and then there were wounds. Some were so great Memphis had no idea how they could ever be healed.