Quotes About Vulnerability

We have lived in our armor for so long, you and I. And now I am not sure if either of us knows how to removes it.

Every plan is a house of cards.

Cardan gazes at a rosebush with petals so black and glossy they look like patent leather. ¨It was terrifying,¨ he says, ¨watching you fall. I mean, you´re generally terrifying, but I am unused to fearing for you. And then I was furious. I am not sure I have ever been that angry before.¨ ¨Mortals are fragile,¨ I say. ¨Not you,¨ he says in a way that sounds a little like a lament. ¨You never break.¨ Page 159

My greatest weakness has always been my desire for love. It is a yawning chasm within me, and the more that I reach for it, the more easily I am tricked. I am a walking bruise, an open sore. If Oak is masked, I am a face with all the skin ripped off. Over and over, I have told myself that I need to guard against my own yearnings, but that hasn't worked.

Love is stupid. All we do is break one another's hearts.

Every day that I don't beg Cardan for forgiveness over a feud he started is a day I win. He can humiliate me, but every time he does and I don't back down, he makes himself less powerful. After all, he's throwing everything he's got at someone as weak as I am and it's not working. He's going to take himself down.

I want to have some reaction. I want to tremble or feel nauseated. I want to be the person who begins to weep. I want to be anyone but the person I am, who looks around to be sure no one saw, who wipes off my knife in the dirt, wipes off my hand on his clothes, and gets out of there before the guards come.

But what if I actually am becoming besotted with him? Cardan is more knowledgeable than I am at love. He could use that against me, just as I asked him to use it against Nicasia. Perhaps he found a way to turn the tables after all. Kill him, a part of me says, a part I remember from the night I took him captive. Kill him before he makes you love him.

It's just that you go so crazy being alone like that. Sometimes he'd forget my water or food and I'd cry and cry and cry." She stops talking and looks out the window. "I would try to tell myself stories to pass the time. Fairy tales. Parts of books. But they got used up.

I hate being a fool. I hate the idea of my emotions getting the better of me, making me weak. But my fear of being a fool turned me into one.

You remind me that I am a mere mortal and you are a prince of Faerie. Well, let me remind you that means you have much to lose and I have nothing.

Anyone who offers up their heart on a silver platter deserves what they get.

He saw now the ways in which they tried to be careful with each other, afraid of hitting those raw places where they might hurt each other almost without trying. But sparing another person is a tricky thing. It's easy to think you're succeeding when you're failing spectacularly.

Nobody ever really sees me the way I am, underneath everything. But she did. She does.

She suddenly understood why she had let him kiss her in the diner, why she had wanted him at all. She wanted to control him. He was every arrogant boyfriend that had treated her mother badly. He was every boy that told her she was too freaky, who had laughed at her, or just wanted her to shut up and make out. He was a thousand times less real than Roiben.

Crowns of flowers on our heads, shooting bows and arrows at the sky. Eating candied violets and falling asleep with our heads pillowed on logs. We were children. Children can laugh all day and still cry themselves to sleep at night.

I want you and I hate wanting things and I especially hate admitting I want them.

Another girl might have frozen, but I am cold all the way through.

Cardan stands, too. 'Everyone finds different lessons in stories, I suppose, but here's one. Having a heart is terrible, but you need one anyway.

I thought you needed to be tougher. But I've been thinking that protecting somebody by hurting them before someone else gets the chance isn't the kind of protecting that anybody wants.

Don't." She looks directly into my eyes. After a month of being forced to avoid her, I feel stripped bare by her gaze. "You can be as much of a charming bastard as you want, but you're never going to bullshit your way into my heart again.

If you keep it," Daneca says, "he'll have his claws in you." Everyone has their claws in me. Everyone.

People are fragile. They die of mistakes, of overdoses, of sickness. But mostly they die of Death.

She turned to me, head titled, her expression pure confusion. As though I had no reason to be afraid of a broken heart. She had no idea how dangerous a broken heart could be. You do, though. You know.