Quotes About Vulnerability

The neck which was short and thick, seemed to tempt the axe.

In the friendship grown old already, one was the worshiper, and that one was David; Lucien ruled him like a woman sure of love, and David loved to give way. He felt that his friend's physical beauty implied a real superiority, which he accepted, looking upon himself as one made of coarser and commoner human clay.

To have children, to have a wife, to adore them — what is it but to have many hearts and bare them to a dagger?" he cried, springing up with the bound of a tiger and walking up and down the room. "To be a father is to give one's self over, bound hand and foot to sorrow.

Peki ama beni kimi vakit mutlulu?un göbe?inde yakalay?veren o uzun uzun hulyalara dalmalardan ku?kulanmak niye? Bir konu üzerinde benim susu?umdan dolay? senin pek sevimli, sevilen kad?n öfken niye? Yarad?l???mdaki z?tl?klarla, nedenlerini sormadan, oynayamaz m?yd?n? Kalbinde birtak?m s?rlar m? var ki, kendilerini kapatmak için benim s?rlar?ma ihtiyaç duyuyorlar?

E la donna è così felice e così bella nelle ore in cui è forte, che preferisce a tutti gli uomini quello che ha una forza enorme, a costo d'essere spezzata da lui.

A naked woman is less dangerous than one who spreads her skirt skillfully to cover and exhibit everything at once.

If you pay court to a young girl whose existence is a compound of loneliness, despair, and poverty, and who has no suspicion that she will come into a fortune, good Lord! it is quint and quatorze at piquet;

There isn't a true innocence for children whose parents are shackled.

I used to be terrified of my own weakness; if acknowledged it, I thought I would be overwhelmed by it. But I am stronger and braver than that. I am not so easily broken. I am strong enough to realize that it is alright to be fragile, to be less than perfect. Staying connected to that vulnerability, ironically, gives me strength.

It's about more than just being beautiful. It's about having all of these uncomfortable feelings inside you and not knowing how to express them or deal with them.

I think feeling it, letting myself risk love and letting myself be loved, is one of the biggest challenges left for me.

You would fare far better with a lover who makes you laugh than one who makes you curse - and cry," he added, stepping to the cone of colored light. Beyond mortified, Phoebe dashed a quick hand across her damp eyes, hoping he might at least miss that much of her shame. "Sir, you should have made your presence known." One dark brow arched upward, "I believe I am doing just that.

It is the false shame of fools to try to conceal wounds that have not healed.

Su dicha fué completa, pues la halló sola, en batón, y los rizos sobre las mejillas. Como Nébel la retuvo contra la pared, ella, riendo y cortada, se recostó en el muro. Y el muchacho, a su frente, tocándola casi, sintió en sus manos inertes la alta felicidad de un amor inmaculado, que tan fácil le habría sido manchar.

De este modo Bertita cumplió cuatro años, y esa noche, resultado de las golosinas que era a los padres absolutamente imposible negarle, la criatura tuvo algún escalofrío y fiebre. Y el temor a verla morir o quedar idiota, tornó a reabrir la eterna llaga.

Marriage is more than four bare legs in a bed.

He's not afraid to trust anyone. That's his strength. But it's also a double-edged sword.

What do I have left after running away from believing? I've come to think that even if I believe in people and get hurt it is much better than regretting not doing so.

I wish I were not sensual... I wish I had not got from my mother, or my father was it, this need to grasp and be grasped, because it drives me into the arms of idiots who want to crush me. Wonderful, idiotic, crushing in the night. Can't you just crush me in the night?

I want to say Without temper If possible without the least sense of the heroic Without even the measured ambition to speak the truth which is only another vulgarity To say I am not what I was Indeed I was nothing and now I am at least the possibility of something and this I will defend.

I'm vulnerable to criticism. Any artist is, because you work alone in your studio and, until recently, critics were the only way you'd get any feedback.

Is that what lives on longest, the sadness? The proof of our being weak, not the proof of our being strong?

Could that be why Treslove so often found himself alone? Was he protecting himself against the companioned happiness he longed for because he dreaded how he would feel when it was taken from him?

Any scene in which a character is shown waking up in bed or getting into bed is deeply suspect, unless there is someone new in bed with her.