Quotes About Vulnerability

He's just being a man," Estelle said. "Wanting his freedom, but not wanting you to have any." "No, he is being a boy," Fifi countered. "Afraid of these feelings that are so big, so powerful, that they make him feel small. So he tries to ignore them, thinking he can control things this way." She shrugged in disdain. "As if love were an enemy to be

Hiding under the bed doesn't make the worry stop.

He knew from the first that this man would know how to hurt him.

La Conspiración Vegetal: El Hombre está ahora en guardia ante los insectos parasitarios; ante tenias, termitas, escarabajos, pero ¿ha prestado alguna atención a la posibilidad de que haya sido elegido como objetivo del ataque vegetal, señalado por la viña, el lúpulo, el enebro, la planta del tabaco, la hoja de té y el grano de café para ser destruido?

Not many can admit their fears, but those who can lead a fulfilling life of happiness knowing they hide nothing and need not to.

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. What I'm saying here is not, I agree, poetry, as poems should be written rarely and reluctantly, under unbearable duress and only with the hope that good spirits, not evil ones, choose us for their instrument.

Since that moment when in a house with low eaves A doctor from the town cut the navel-string And pears dotted with white mildew Reposed in their nests of luxurious weeds I have been in the hands of humans.

È difficile comprendere da dove provenga quest'orgoglio dei poeti, se sovente si vergognano che appaia la loro debolezza.

In the very essence of poetry there is something indecent; A thing brought forth that we didn't know we had in us, So we blink our eyes, as if a tiger had sprung out And stood in the light, licking its tail.

If you look close enough, you can see cracks in everything. And that's okay. Because when you really think about it, it's the cracks and gaps and chinks in things that let the light shine in.

I'm saying it's totally oblivious to how people feel. Take the ocean, for instance. You can love it, but it doesn't love you back. It will suck you under and steal your breath and beauty can make you cry, or that the sound of the tide coming in at night is the best lullaby you ever heard.

Men! The only animal in the world to fear.

If it were a question of brute force, not a single human baby would survive for a fortnight.

That's it! When you come to know men, that's how they are: too sensitive in the wrong place.

It is curious but true that those who make a habit of saying unkind things are often the most easily hurt and offended when their victims retaliate.

Dr. Forrester got lost in the snow and staggered into the hall and collapsed on the floor. If the door had been locked he would probably have died. So ever since then Uncle Jock and Aunt Mamie have never allowed the door to be locked.

had always admired her tremendously but now, quite suddenly, I saw her in a different light: small and pathetic and lonely. She had chosen loneliness because she hated 'getting involved emotionally'. She was afraid of getting hurt. Freedom was what she wanted but it seemed to me a poor substitute for affection. I thought of all she had told me about the pearls; she couldn't wear them; she didn't want to sell them; she hated to shut them up in prison. I

Why do I always want to appear more clever than I really am when Nora is anywhere about? Am much distressed at this discovery, as I have just read an article in this morning's paper saying that intellectual snobbery is snobbery in its worst form.)

How he had suffered . . . . I saw then, for the first time, that it was the mixture of strength and weakness in Garth's nature which made him so vulnerable to suffering. A weaker man would have bowed his head before the storm; a stronger man could have ridden it out. Garth was so fashioned that the storm twisted him, tortured him beyond bearing, left him maimed but still upright, still rebellious.

I had nothing to fall back on, so the smallest accident was a major disaster.

She turned and leant upon the wall. She did not want to show him her face. It was the sort of face that expressed its owner's feelings much too openly. If Bel were happy, if she were sad, if she received a sudden shock it was written in her face for all the world to see. She had often wished for a "poker face" but never more than now.

For my part, I prefer my heart to be broken. It is so lovely, dawn-kaleidoscopic within the crack.

I don't want to read about the fabricated version of someone's life. I want to know what haunts you, what are you ashamed of, what embarrasses you, what do you wish was different?

Cover versions, that's my forte, that's all I ever used to do. When you play your own songs, it's quite scary, 'cause I'm quite honest and open, they can be very revealing. But covers, I don't have to think about, just get me up there!