Quotes About Vulnerability

if he understood, at some level, that to love is to enter into the inevitability of one day not being able to protect what is most valuable to you.

One's relationship to windows now changed in the city. A window was the border through which death was possibly most likely to come. Windows could not stop even the most flagging round of ammunition: any spot indoors with a view of the outside was a spot potentially in the crossfire. Moreover the pane of a window could itself become shrapnel so easily, shattered by a nearby blast, and everyone had heard of someone or other who had bled out after being lacerated by shards of flying glass.

A little paranoia crawls into my lap, purring loudly.

Ozi made me feel so known. He made love to my insides, filling desperate gaps and calming unbearably sensitive places.

love is to enter into the inevitability of one day not being able to protect what is most valuable to you.

He knew how little it took to make a man into meat: the wrong blow, the wrong gunshot, the wrong flick of a blade, turn of a car, presence of a microorganism in a handshake, a cough. He was aware that alone a person is almost nothing.

and each time she returned she told the maid to come with her, and the maid said no, for she had a sense of the fragility of things, and she felt she was a small plant in a small patch of soil held between the rocks of a dry and windy place

Da parte sua, Saeed avrebbe voluto poter fare qualcosa per Nadia, poterla proteggere da quel che li aspettava, per quanto, a un certo livello, capisse che amare significa accettare che inevitabilmente un giorno non riuscirai a proteggere quel che hai di più prezioso.

Saeed for his part wished he could do something for Nadia, could protect her from what would come, even if he understood, at some level, that to love is to enter into the inevitability of one day not being able to protect what is most valuable to you.

muscularity, made more pronounced by her gauntness, and the near-inanimate

She had, as was by then usual for her, been wearing her black robe, closed to her neck, and he had, as was by then usual for him, been wearing a size-too-small white T-shirt, pinned to his lean chest and stomach, and she watched him and he had circled her, and they had gone to his place that night, and she had shuffled off the weight of her virginity with some perplexity but not excessive fuss.

that to love is to enter into the inevitability of one day not being able to protect what is most valuable to you.

I like its eyes: two black dots, nonreflective light-trappers. Utterly determined eyes, doubt-free, unselfconscious. Frightening eyes if they happen to be looking at you and you're small enough to be dinner. The same eyes a man probably sees on an alligator before it drags him down and shakes the air out of his lungs and leaves him to rot a little in the murk, to be tenderized properly before he becomes a meal.

Margaret Atwood, the Canadian novelist, once asked a group of women at a university why they felt threatened by men. The women said they were afraid of being beaten, raped, or killed by men. She then asked a group of men why they felt threatened by women. They said they were afraid women would laugh at them.

The women said they were afraid of being beaten, raped, or killed by men. She then asked a group of men why they felt threatened by women. They said they were afraid women would laugh at them.

You'll freeze out here," he said. What did he know? I was already a sheet of ice, a frozen branch, a twig. I could freeze in my own house, if I wanted to. The man's eyes darted down the road. I was an icy slip of nothing. I was invincible.

Come with me, Mack," I said. "Back to my place." I tried to pull my hand back. Our fingers were intertwined like those bloody hospital robes. I didn't mind, even when he scared me a little. The blood that kept us alive was trapped just under our skin, racing through veins. All those cells inside and out were fighting for a way to move closer together, beyond the trap of skin, dependent on breath.

I think you really have to confront fear to feel love.

Sometimes you cannot believe what you see, you have to believe what you feel. And if you are ever going to have other people trust you, you must feel that you can trust them too-even when you are in the dark. Even when you're falling.

For me, living means I can be responsive to the other person. It means I can show my emotions and my feelings. Talk to them. Feel with them …

We must in such a way, when reading a story, that we let it act on us. We must allow it to move us, we must let it do whatever work it wants to do on us. We must somehow make ourselves open to it.

We must act in such a way, when reading a story, that we let it act on us. We must allow it to move us, we must let it do whatever work it wants to do on us. We must somehow make ourselves open to it.

She sent him out the message, "Perhaps I am getting worse day by day, but today, at any rate, I feel very ill. Do come in, then." He was greatly moved and wondered what her condition could be, because this unaccustomed warmth was alarming.

Women are by nature blithely content to allow others to deceive them. You know full well these tales have only the slightest connection to reality, and yet you let your heart be moved by trivial words and get so caught up in the plots that you copy them out without giving a thought to the tangled mess your hair has become in this humid weather.