Quotes About Vulnerability

I waved but couldn't answer, because I was finally letting myself grin as wide as I'd wanted all afternoon, all evening, every sec of every minute with you, Ed. Shit, I guess I already loved you then. Doomed like a wineglass knowing it'll get dropped someday, shoes that'll be scuffed in no time, the new shirt you'll soon enough muck up filthy.

Shit, I guess I already loved you then. Doomed like a wineglass knowing it'll get dropped someday, shoes that'll be scuffed in no time, the new shirt you'll soon enough muck up filthy.

Once more, this is love: it rings and you open up unless it looks like an ax murderer.

It will be a very long time before I trust you ever, ever - OK, I trust you again.

This is love, and the trouble with it: it can make you embarrassed. Love is really liking someone a whole lot and not wanting to screw that up. Everybody's chewed this over. This unites us, this part of love.

I guess I already loved you then. Doomed like a wineglass knowing it'll get dropped someday, shoes that'll be scuffed in no time, the new shirt you'll soon enough muck up filthy.

He had seen himself naked and so had quite a few other people, although some of them do not remember.

Vulnerability is what love is about... Only when we open ourselves to the possibility of loss can we allow for the possibility of love.

The last time we were here," I said, "I told you I liked you. I should have trusted myself to say I love you.

Only a short time ago, I learned that people laughed at me. Now I can see that unknowingly I joined them in laughing at myself. That hurts most of all.

Profesorii sunt ?i ei oameni. ?i se tem c? restul lumii va afla c? sunt doar oameni.

fear of being revealed as a man walking on stilts among giants is understandable. Failure at this point would destroy him.

Eu me encontro querendo impressionar você de uma maneira que nunca pensei em fazer antes, mas estar com você debilitou minha autoconfiança. Eu questiono meus motivos agora, de tudo que faço.

Door's open!" she shouted. She was in her underwear, lying on the floor, arms outstretched and legs up against the couch. She tilted her head back and looked at me upside down. "Charlie, darling! Why are you standing on your head?

My confused feeling for her had been holding me back, and I had to clung to her out of my fear of being forced out on my own, and cut adrift.

She brings me things to eat and she fixes my bed and she says I was a very brave man to let them do things to my hed. She says she woud never let them do things to her branes for all the tea in china. I tolld her it wasnt for tea in china. It was to make me smart.

You see that bottle?" I told him I had wondered about it when we came into his office. "Well, how many people do you know who are prepared to take a grown man into his arms and let him nurse with the bottle? And take the chance of having the patient urinate or defecate all over him? You look surprised. You can't understand it, can you, from way up there in your research ivory tower? What do you know about being shut out from every human experience as our patients have been?

Ce ciudat este faptul c? niÈ™te oameni cu sentimente oneste de sensibilitate, care nu s-ar lua niciodat? de un om n?scut f?r? mâini, picioare sau ochi, nu se dau înapoi de la maltratarea unui om slab de minte.. Chiar È™i un om slab de minte vrea s? fie asemeni celorlalÈ›i oameni. Un copil mic poate s? nu È™tie cum s? se hr?neasc? singur sau ce s? m?nânce, dar È™tie c?-i este foame..

very few people truly want this intensity, because it leads to total inner nakedness. Most people are looking for something more bland and neutral, more comforting.

There is no greater grief than that of a man with a broken heart who only just learned he had a heart at all.

I'm better off without the armor, because no matter how much I fortify it, no matter how well oiled the plates are, and no matter how tightly I weave the chain links, there's no way it can really protect me. An arrow can always slip through; a swung club could always bruise. And that's okay, really, because it is as much a part of my job to feel as it is to make others feel.

Ree, brunette and sixteen, with milk skin and abrupt green eyes, stood bare-armed in a fluttering yellowed dress, face to the wind, her cheeks reddening as if smacked and smacked again.

She would never cry where her tears might be seen and counted against her.

For four decades, U.S. energy policy was dominated—and its foreign policy hobbled—by the specter of shortage and vulnerability