Quotes About Vulnerability

Being human means being vulnerable but it also means having the capacity to modify our responses and to make different choices.

I have walked in the blackest deeps. You cannot guess what spells I have cast, what poisons I have gathered to protect myself against you, how your power may rebound upon your head. Who knows what is in me? Will you find out?

And as we swam, or played, or talked, a feeling would come. It was almost like fear, in the way it filled me, rising in my chest. It was almost like tears, in how swiftly it came. But it was neither of those, buoyant where they were heavy, bright where they were dull.

Later, years later, I would hear a song made of our meeting. [...] I was not surprised by the portrait of myself: the proud witch undone before the hero's sword, kneeling and begging for mercy. Humbling women seems to me a chief pastime of poets. As if there can be no story unless we crawl and weep.

Those seconds, half seconds, that the line of our gaze connected, were the only moment in my day that I felt anything at all. The sudden swoop of my stomach, the coursing anger. I was like a fish eyeing the hook.

The scars themselves I offered to wipe away. He shook his head. "How would I know myself?

Every moment of my peace was a lie, for it came only at the gods' pleasure. No matter what I did, how long I lived, at a whim they would be able to reach down and do with me what they wished.

It was almost like fear, in the way it filled me, rising in my chest. It was almost like tears, in how swiftly it came.

He had no chance, really. He was only flesh.

It was our weakness that drew the war out, not her strength.

Often those men in most need hate most to be grateful, and will strike at you just to feel whole again.

Achilles weeps. He craddles me, and will not eat, nor speak a word other than my name. I see his face as if through water, as a fish sees the sun. His tears fall, but I cannot wipe them away. This is my element now, the half-life of the unburied spirit.

Se inclinó hacia mí, envuelto en bronce, oliendo a sudor, cuero y metal. Cerré los ojos al sentir sobre mis labios los suyos, la única parte aún suave de Aquiles. Después de marcho.

His trust was a part of him, as much as his hands or his miraculous feet. And despite my hurt, I would not wish to see it gone, to see him as uneasy and fearful as the rest of us, for any price.

And then he pressed his lips onto mine. "Live", he said. "Oh live, my life, my love, live." And that's when I'm supposed to open my eyes like a dewy fawn, and see him poised over me like the sun, and make a little gasping noise of wonder and gratitude, and then he fucks me.

Even the best iron grows brittle with too much beating.

However I pretended I could conceal my thoughts as well as he, I knew it was not true. He would see down to my bones. He would gather my weaknesses up and set them with the rest of his collection, alongside Achilles' and Ajax's. He kept them on his person as other men keep their knives.

Name one hero who was happy. You can't." He was sitting up now, leaning forward. He lifted an eyebrow. "I'll tell you a secret. I'm going to be the first." He took my palm and held it to his. "Swear it." "Why me?" "Because you're the reason. Swear it." "I swear it," I said, lost in the high color of his cheeks, the flame in his eyes. "I swear it," he echoed. We sat like that for a moment, hands touching. He grinned. "I feel like I could eat the world raw.

But when I tried to speak them, I found I could not. His cheeks were flushed with shame, and the skin beneath his eyes was weary. His trust was a part of him, as much as his hands or his miraculous feet. And despite my hurt, I would not wish to see it gone, to see him as uneasy and fearful as the rest of us, for any price.

I did not see the worst of him. Even at his best he was not an easy man. But he was a friend to me in a time when I needed one." "It is strange to think of a goddess needing friends." "All creatures that are not mad need them.

I did not go easy to motherhood. I faced it as soldiers face their enemies, girded and braced, sword up against the coming blows. Yet all my preparations were not enough.

I covered myself with my hands and made soft noises like a child. Blush, blush, I prayed. Blush for him, or he will kill you. And I was fortunate, for it was warm in the room, and I was angry, and ashamed too,

How long would I cling to that handful of minutes, trying to cover myself as if with some threadbare blanket?

I fled so she would not see my tears and wear them as another of her trophies.