Quotes About Scar

As if our birth had at first sundered things, and we had been thrust up through into nature like a wedge, and not till the wound heals and the scar disappears, do we begin to discover where we are, and that nature is one and continuous everywhere.

Don't let them scar you with their weakness. They will cripple you with their lives. They will make you want to die just to get away from them.

As the mist leaves no scar On the dark green hill So my body leaves no scar On you and never will

BREAVMAN KNOWS a girl named Shell whose ears were pierced so she could wear the long filigree earrings. The punctures festered and now she has a tiny scar in each earlobe. He discovered them behind her hair.

AS THE MIST LEAVES NO SCAR As the mist leaves no scar On the dark green hill, So my body leaves no scar On you, nor ever will. When wind and hawk encounter, What remains to keep? So you and I encounter, Then turn, then fall to sleep. As many nights endure Without a moon or star, So will we endure When one is gone and far.

It was nothing, it was business but it left an ugly mark.

Miralles) "No pude no fijarme en el hombre: una cicatriz le arrancaba en la sien, seguía por el pómulo, la mejilla y la mandíbula, bajaba por el cuello y se perdía por la pelambre que afloraba en su camisa gris, de franela.

The girl with the shaved head has a scar tattooed on her scalp. It looks like a long, sutured gash. You tell her it is very realistic. She takes this as a compliment and thanks you. You meant as opposed to romantic. "I could use one of those right over my heart," you say.

Impetuously, with the uninhibited reactions of a child, she reached out to touch his face, to see if the scar felt different.

He scarred her arm...but she did not care because she loved him and she knew that love leaves a wound that leaves a scar.

el amor deja una herida que a su vez deja una cicatriz.

We must respect the work we do. A slipshod method never pays- It may get by, but in our minds It makes a scar that always stays.

Her entire life has been devoted to healing the deepest, most invasive unseeable scar that one can ever have.

He sees the scar over his eye. It will fade eventually, but it will never disappear. It will never be as good as new. Maybe that's okay. Maybe being good as new is overrated.

Sure enough, a few moments later, an enormous blue-green SeaWing emerged from the water, shaking her wings vigorously. She was powerfully built, as big as Morrowseer, with broad shoulders and gleaming teeth and a healing burn scar on her neck, and she had a trident longer than Deathbringer strapped to her back. Holy mother of lava, Deathbringer thought. I'm supposed to kill THAT?

an enormous blue-green SeaWing emerged from the water, shaking her wings vigorously. She was powerfully built, as big as Morrowseer, with broad shoulders and gleaming teeth and a healing burn scar on her neck, and she had a trident longer than Deathbringer strapped to her

the horrendous gash of its mine-works

caesarian scar. Now that they were safely in Rome, they needed

Non sapeva mai davvero cosa stesse pensando; le sue riflessioni più profonde erano nascoste dal suo volto strano e inquieto, con la pallida cicatrice sulla guancia, simile al marchio di una ferita dello spirito. Demelza sapeva solo che al momento Ross era felice e che lei era il motivo della sua felicità.

It's so hard to forget pain, but it's even harder to remember sweetness. We have no scar to show for happiness. We learn so little from peace.

I'll end up believing, like him, that everything is war and every mark a scar. She ran a finger lightly over the blade of a sword temporarily hung on the wall; the line it left on her skin, though distinct, quickly vanished.

He kisses the scar of my palm. I still have his brother's blood under my fingernails. I don't have a ring for him. Above us, the buds are blooming. The whole room smells of flowers.

That was seven years ago. The doctors told her father the memory would fade, like the big messy scar on her arm, but neither ever did.

I think of the note I found, of the press of his nibbed pen hard enough to send flecks of ink spattering as he wrote my name. Hard enough to dig through the page, maybe to scar the desk beneath. If that's what he did to the paper, I shudder to think what he wants to do to me.