Quotes About Vulnerability

shielding the gaping wounds which the words had left in his heart...

Mi hai fatto confessare le paure che sento. Ma ti dirò anche che cos'è che non mi fa paura. Non mi fa paura esser solo o venir sprezzato per un altro o lasciare tutto ciò che tocchi lasciare. E non mi fa paura commettere un errore, anche un grande errore, un errore che duri quanto la vita e magari tutta l'eternità.

Elmac?k kemikleri yüzüne sert bir ifade veriyordu ama koyu renk kaÅŸlar?n?n alt?ndan dünyaya bakarken baÅŸkalar?ndan bir ba???lama bekleyip çoÄŸu kez hayal k?r?kl???na uÄŸram?? bir insan izlenimi veren gözlerinde sertlik yoktu.

And they fell upong one another: and themselves they have fallen. And still nowanights and by nights of yore do all bold floras of the field to their shyfaun lovers say only: Cull me ere I wilt to thee!: and, but a little later: Pluck me whilst I blush!

Terrible depressions she got too, her downers could last for days. Ye felt ye had to keep an eye on her. Sammy liked lying with the side of his face on her tits, snuggling in, her nipple poking him in the eye, soft, wrist between her legs, his hand cupping her hole, shielding it from danger, especially when she had come, needing to protect her and all that stuff.

The wind smelled of humus, lichen, the musky odor of pecan husks broken under the shoe, a sunshower on the fields across the bayou. But any poetry that might have been contained in that moment was lost when I stared into Honoria's face, convinced that human insanity was as close to our fingertips as the act of rubbing fog off a window pane.

Cancer and lightning go where they want. So does political corruption.

For some reason, each moment I spent with him made me feel that I had been diminished.

existed in inverse proportion to the defenselessness of the working people they exploited and injured.

I messed my pants," he said.

But I don't fear him, and that's because I have never known a bully who was not a coward.

It's always something when you let other people in your world.

She left, feeling sullen over her wasted afternoon and wasted bus fare. It was her first experience with the sexological advertiser, though she was to find out he was fairly common. Usually he was some phony calling himself a writer, an agent, or a talent scout, who had found out that for a dollar and a half's worth of newspaper space he could have a daylong procession of girls at his door, all desperate for work, all willing to do almost anything to get it.

She laughed, and as she did, Potts felt as if he were watching a dark, silent mountain suddenly blink to life, illuminated by a hundred lights from a small, quaint village that had lived on the mountainside for a hundred years, the village appearing out of nowhere, all the lights aglow at once. Every feature of her face glowed. He found himself wanting to tell her every sorrow he ever knew

She smiled bitterly, and once again the mask she wore so well, the firm lady of strong, impatient indifference whom he'd met when he first walked into the church a week before, broke apart, revealing the vulnerable, lonely soul underneath. She's just like me, he thought in wonder. She's as lost as I am.

In that moment he realized that all the experience of thirty-two years on the NYPD and all the formal police training in the world was useless when the smile of someone you suddenly care about finds the bow that wraps your heart and undoes it.

Man hates. Animals don't hate. You been in the zoo too long, Rubs. Who could hate old Rubs? Hate you because you're scared of something? We're all scared of something, Rubs. Just remember every fear that lives inside makes you smaller. But when you air your fears, they disappear." "How's that?

Our little party Got under way as best it could. The twigs Unclenched, the greedy rosebuds caked with smut. The ill-knit creatures, now in hues Of sunstroke, mulberry, white of clown, Yellow of bile, bruise-blacks-and-blues, Stumped outward, waving matchstick arms, Colliding, poking, hurt, in tears

Because infinite players prepare themselves to be surprised by the future, they play in complete openness. It is not an openness as in candor, but an openness as in vulnerability. It is not a matter of exposing one's unchanging identity, the true self that has always been, but a way of exposing one's ceaseless growth, the dynamic self that has yet to be.

Okay, that so did me in. Mr. Rock being all emotional? Expressing his feelings? p. 12

Im a girl who has been tamping down her emotions and keeping them tightly guarded her whole life. And that works really well for me... And now I felt like my shell had a dangerous crack in it. Without much more effort on his part, it would split wide open and my enormous river of emotions would gush out - the bad and the good. It was pretty much the scariest thing I'd ever thought of. - Maximum Ride.

I'm gonna barf, I whispered to Fang,wiping my sweaty hands on my jeans. You'll be fine, he whipered back. You always are. I'm gonna die, I moaned. You can't die, he said a hint of a smile in his voice.You're the indesructible Max.

You really hurt me. I wouldn't hurt you. Not like this.

I still felt like I might hurl, and I thought about how awful that would be in midair.