Quotes About Vulnerability

Every time you think you have the world figured, trust me, that's just when the world's got you figured and is about to spring and break your back

He then explained that he does not speak Irish. Latin? I asked. None. Greek? Not a syllable. He speaks - on his own admission - only English; and to his credit he seemed suitably verecund - James? Verecundus - humble.

I will eviscerate you in fiction. Every pimple, every character flaw. I was naked for a day; you will be naked for eternity.

The pieces of my broken heart are so small that they could be passed through the eye of a needle.

The expectations of civilized society should afford all the protection a person needs. But that armor is rendered as thin as a tissue when one is dealing with the uncivilized. -Bene Gesserit Archives

she mounts him, positioning herself above his permanent erection, lowering herself until they are joined. She rocks, front to back, and tries to tell herself that a fleeting glimpse into Stefan's eyes doesn't really register his fear. She's careful, never reckless, knowing full well that if she were to let go with too much abandon, she could snap him off at the root. Leave him like an ancient statue, emasculated by vandalism, or erosion and acid rain.

Even the strongest and bravest must sometimes weep. It shows they have a great heart, one that can feel compassion for others.

Just go out there and get your heart broken in, so it'll be ready when you really need it.

even found myself overlooking my own flaws, for the same reasons. I didn't need to try to be perfect or in control all the time. There really was no need to impress anyone.

Abrir el corazón] tiene muchísima relación no sólo con la calidad de vida sino también con su cantidad, es decir, con su duración. [...] La soledad y el aislamiento aumentan el riesgo de enfermedad y de muerte prematura por cualquier motivo, entre un doscientos y un quinientos por ciento. [...] Cuando

Debo aprender a tener fe, pero también a confiar en la gente. No lo hago. Creo que todo el mundo trata de hacerme daño.

Sex in its natural place is like the signature at the end of a letter. Written on its own, it is less than nothing. Signatures are easy to sign, good letters far more difficult.

must be the most wonderful gift to be able to throw your arms around someone and just weep,' he wrote.

Love - why, I'll tell you what love is: it's you at 75 and her at 71, each of you listening for the other's step in the next room, each afraid that a sudden silence, a sudden cry, could mean a lifetime's talk is over.

O, she said, a woman in love can't afford to be proud. He must be made to see, he must be made to come back. And I must do it myself, no matter how silly it looks.

It reminded her of something she'd once read, about how an artist doesn't really need a great deal of experience. One heartbreak can produce many novels. But you have to have a heart that can break.

You don't have to be perfect. Not for God, not for your community, not for anyone. All you have to be is human. All you have to be is you. So lay down when you need to, and then, eventually, it will be time for you to get up, have something to eat, and try again.

Sabes qué, Tortuguita? -le dijo antes de salir de casa hacia el colegio-. De vez en cuando hay que sacar la cabeza de la concha... Habla, sé valiente.

Writers must fortify themselves with pride and egotism as best they can. The process is analogous to using sandbags and loose timbers to protect a house against flood. Writers are vulnerable creatures like anyone else. For what do they have in reality? Not sandbags, not timbers. Just a flimsy reputation and a name.

Bus factor (noun): the number of people that need to get hit by a bus before your project is completely doomed.

Everyone says, 'You give birth, you go home, and you have this amazing baby and it's just beautiful'. And I walked in and I just started sobbing.

It's all very well to say that everyone is beautiful just the way they are, but the truth is that sometimes I feel fat and ugly and I want to hide away forever.

have seen the heart Move like a doe through the woods, move Like a stunned doe, deeper and deeper, Through trees that turn and close behind her, The way water closes over a dropped stone, Or a torn limb, or a lasting wound … from "Botticelli's St. Sebastian

A]nd the unveiled figure Of the self stepping unclothed, sweetly stripped Of its leaf, into starlight, and the shadow of night, The cold water warm around the narrow ankles, The body at its most weightless, a thing so durable It will–like the carved stone figures holding up The temple roof–stand and remember its gods Long after those gods have been forsaken. —Brigit Pegeen Kelly, from "Plants Fed On by Fawns," The Orchard (BOA Editions, Ltd., 2004)