Quotes About Vulnerability

Always before, I just said no, left it solidly there. I waver now. I want to share everything with him. Want to know what he knows, feel what he feels, share the same space he's in.

This is a bad story." "Sorry. I'm really sorry. I shouldn't have told you." "No, you should," I say. "But—" "I don't want there to be bad stories and me not know them.

Everybody acts like I'm nuts. I'm not nuts I just want to feel it all.

I'm going to give you God's truth, little girl. All men want to do is hurt you. Once you give them your heart, they tear it to shreds." ~Francine Rivers; Redeeming Love

Death and dying makes us into children once again, in truth, one last time, there in our final wailing cries. More than one philosopher has claimed that we ever remain children, far beneath the indurated layers that make up the armour of adulthood.

We are nothing but our own needs. She but showed each of us the face we hide from ourselves and everyone else. She shamed us by exposing our truths.

Oh, Laseen," she murmured, tears welling in her eyes, "I know why we fear this Jaghut Tyrant. Because he became human, he became like us, he enslaved, he destroyed, and he did it better than we could." She lowered her head into her hands. "That's why we fear.

Death and dying makes us into children once again, in truth, one last time, there in our final wailing cries. More than one philosopher has claimed that we ever remain children, far beneath the indurated layers that make up the armour of adulthood. Armour encumbers, restricts the body and soul within it. But it also protects. Blows are blunted. Feelings lose their edge, leaving us to suffer naught but a plague of bruises, and, after a time, bruises fade.

Never bargain with a man who has nothing to lose.

In natural justice, Arathan, the weak cannot hide, unless we grant them the privilege. And understand, it is ever a privilege, for wich the weak should be eternally grateful. At any given moment, should the strong will it, they can swing a sword and end the life of the weak. And that will be today's lesson. Forbearance.

She eyed him steadily, wondering at his sudden . . . humanity. Maybe dying did away with the usual games, the pretenses of the living dance.

He drew a ragged breath. 'You ...' Felisin waited, hoping the life would flee this husk, flee it now, before— 'You ... were ... not what I expected ...' Armour can hide anything until the moment it falls away. Even a child. Especially a child.

The bully's greatest terror,' Bugg said, 'comes when he meets someone bigger and meaner—

If you find someone who fills your heart, fills in all the cracks and stops all the leaking, to the Abyss with station

Armour encumbers, restricts the body and soul within it. But it also protects. Blows are blunted Feelings lose their edge, leaving us to suffer naught but a plague of bruises, and after a time, bruises fade.

There is no armor made that can withstand the truth. -Karsa Orlong.

A small whimper escaped her throat, then she desperately pulled her eyes away.

Even order needs freedom, lest it solidify and becomes fragile

His brittle, yellowed bones were splintered, crushed and shattered.

His heart was vast, it was true. He was a thing of sentimentality and compassion, so contrary to his bestial appearance, his simian fire. But such creatures were vulnerable. Their hearts bled too freely, and the scars never knitted true.

The easiest thing to break is a man's heart

A defense based on the weakness of nature belongs to untutored children and dogs that bite, Captain.

Not all things about oneself were likeable. So she had wept for her flaws, for her weaknesses and for her humanity. Before two witnesses who no doubt had their own stories, their own reasons to grieve.

Not me, alas. Things get tough, and I'm liable to curl up and start whimpering