Quotes About Vulnerability

They think you care, They'll walk all over you

A marriage is sensitive, fragile and crucial. Once you mess up with how you handle it, it will shatter

In our darkest moments we become stronger. In our happiest moments we become vulnerable.

I often fear to talk so occasionally I express my opinions and my love in writing.

Authors are sick people.

He was an animal. Everyone knows never to corner one that's injured...even if it is just his pride.

How safe and secure is the internet?Well.....Would you leave all your worldly belongings on the road and expect them to be there when you came back seven years later?

There are many things in this life one can plan for, anticipate, control, manipulate, but love is not one of them.

When you act strong you are truly weak. When you are soft and kind your heart is truly strong.

If you are brave enough to empty yourself, then life will fill you again and again.

Bringing you closer to the fragile edge of living is the job of a writer.

Poetry and painting are done in the same way you make love; it's an exchange of blood, a total embrace - without caution, without any thought of protecting yourself.

Remember, writing poetry is like making love: one will never know whether one's own pleasure is shared.

The purpose of poetry is to remind us how difficult it is to remain just one person, for our house is open, there are no keys in the doors, and invisible guests come in and out at will.

To me, poetry is somebody standing up, so to speak, and saying, with as little concealment as possible, what it is for him or her to be on earth at this moment

A poet is someone who stands outside in the rain hoping to be struck by lightning.

Moth: I gave you my life. Flame: I allowed you to kiss me.

Let our scars fall in love.

Painting or poetry is made as one makes love - a total embrace, prudence thrown to the winds, nothing held back.

Poetry is what happens when nothing else can.

There is something about writing poetry that brings a man close to the cliff's edge.

Here the frailest leaves of me and yet my strongest lasting, Here I shade and hide my thoughts, I myself do not expose them, And yet they expose me more than all my other poems

I'm falling apart, one part after another. Falling down on the world like snow. Half of me is already on the ground, watching from below.

The courage of the poet is to keep ajar the door that leads into madness.