Quotes About Vulnerability

Whores are natural

I lapsed into my pathetic cut-off period. Often with humans, both good and bad, my senses simply shut off, they get tired, I give up. I am polite. I nod. I pretend to understand because I don't want anybody to be hurt. That is the one weakness that has lead me into the most trouble. Trying to be kind to others I often get my soul shredded into a kind of spiritual pasta. No matter. My brain shuts off. I listen. I respond. And they are too dumb to know that I am not there.

The blankets had fallen off and I stared down at her white back, the shoulder blades sticking out as if they wanted to grow into wings, poke through that skin. Little blades. She was helpless.

It didn't pay to trust another human being. Humans didn't have it, whatever it took.

A woman must be nursed into subsistence by love, where a man can become stronger by being hated. - from 'Cows in Art Class

The ocean, I said, look at it out there, battering, crawling up and down. And underneath all that, the fish, the poor fish fighting each other, eating each other. We're like those fish, only we're up here. One bad move and you're finished. It's nice to be a champion. It's nice to know your moves.

There will always be something to ruin our lives. It all depends on what or which finds us first. You're always ripe and ready to be taken.

It's when you hide things that you choke on them.

she's half-insane, looking for an out; she's hard, she's scared, she's been fooled, taken, abused, used, over-used . . . but, under all that, to me she's the flower, I see her as she was before she was ruined by the lies: theirs and hers.

I was a bore and didn't know when to smile or fake it. Or rather worse, I did but didn't.

I sit on the couch watching her arrange her long red hair before my bedroom mirror. she pulls her hair up and piles it on top of her head- she lets her eyes look at my eyes- then she drops her hair and lets it fall down in front of her face. we go to bed and I hold her speechlessly from the back my arm around her neck I touch her wrists and hands feel up to her elbows no further.

there's no defense except all the errors made

Love is a horse with a broken leg trying to stand while 45,000 people watch.

Our source is private. So are your parts but you can expose them.

The shoulder blades sticking out as if they wanted to grow wings through that skin. Little blades, she was helpless.

Never bring a lot of money to where a poor man lives. He can only lose what little he has. On the other hand it is mathematically possible that he might win whatever you bring with you. What you must do, with money and the poor, is never let them get too close to one another.

I'm sorry, I said, I'm really sorry. I stood up in a cafe and screamed I'm in love, and now you've made a fool of me…

crawled like a blind slug into the web

we are a scene chalked out with the sick white brush of age

I do not feel good. I've got the sad sads. All I want to do is fuck you.

I had a dream about you. I opened your chest like a cabinet, it had doors, and when I opened the doors, I saw all kinds of soft things inside you--teddy bears, tiny fuzzy animals, all these soft, cuddly things.

Parker had a young white boy with him-one of the neurotic tribe of the lost- and the kid's eyes were filled with wet layers of tears. One big tear in each eye. They did not drop out. It was fascinating. I had seen women sit and look at me with those same eyes before they got mad and started screaming about what a son of a bitch I was.

Love is for real men.

I walked about naked and barefoot stepping onto shards of glass sometimes feeling it sometimes not.