Quotes About Vulnerability

What I'm saying is that we all hold, in our minds, the ability to create images that would break us in half.

I had caught my dear superman red-handed in the act of being human: I felt that I loved him even more for it.

Dear Friend: I have nearly died three times since morning.

To be an artist is to fail, as no other dare to fail... failure is his world and the shrink from it desertion

It is in moments of illness that we are compelled to recognize that we live not alone but chained to a creature of a different kingdom, whole worlds apart, who has no knowledge of us and by whom it is impossible to make ourselves understood: our body.

Not that the clear perception of certain weaknesses in those whom we love in any way diminishes our affection for them; rather that affection makes us find those weaknesses charming.

Bodily passion, which has been so unjustly decried, compels its victims to display every vestige that is in them of unselfishness and generosity, and so effectively that they shine resplendent in the eyes of all beholders.

For in order to really suffer at the hands of a woman one must have believed in her completely.

Like a swimmer who throws himself into the water in order to learn, but chooses a moment when there are not too many people to see him.

It is in sickness that we are compelled to recognise that we do not live alone but are chained to a being from a different realm, from whom we are worlds apart, who has no knowledge of us and by whom it is impossible to make ourselves understood: our body.

These were happy, cheerful moments, innocent in appearance but hiding the growing possibility of disaster: this is what makes the life of lovers the most unpredictable of all, a life in which it can rain sulphur and pitch a moment after the sunniest spell and where, without having the courage to learn from our misfortunes, we immediately start building again on the slopes of the crater which can only spew out catastrophe.

seeking to indicate to her by the extent of his gratitude the corresponding intensity of the pleasures which it was in her power to bestow on him, the supreme pleasure being to guarantee him immunity, for as long as his love should last and he remain vulnerable, from the assaults of jealousy.

Talking about depression is great and healthy, but that doesn't mean it's not exhausting.

Yes, there is discrimination against people with mental illness and, yes, it can be a scary thing to talk about. But the hunger to do so is there, and by being open yourself you can get that conversation out on the dance floor.

The call to the creative life is a call to dignity, to a life of vulnerability and adventure and the call to a life that exquisite excitement and indeed ecstasy will often visit.

Walk around feeling like a leaf. Know you could tumble any second, then decide what to do with your time.

The beautiful can exist at the edge precisely because it has nothing to lose and everything to give away. FREDERICK TURNER OUR

This breakage within us is what makes us human and vulnerable. There is nothing more sinister than someone whose mind seems to be an absolute circle; there is a helpless coldness and a deadly certainty about such a presence.

The beauty of being human is the capacity and desire for intimacy. Yet we know that even those who are most intimate remain strange to us. Like children, we often "make strange" with each other.

I have learned myself painfully that you can only relate to someone if you somehow have the courage and the need to inhabit your own solitude. You can only relate out of your separateness, otherwise you are just using the other person to shield you from your own solitude.

Often all the possessions we have, the work we do, the beliefs we hold, are manic attempts to fill this opening, but they never stay in place. They always slip, and we are left more vulnerable and exposed than before. A time comes when you know that you can no longer wallpaper this void. Until you really listen to the call of this void, you will remain an inner fugitive, driven from refuge to refuge, always on the run with no place to call home.

If you keep shining the neon light of analysis and accountability on the tender tissue of your belonging, you make it parched and barren.

Against all attempts at programs and methods, the great art of holiness is to let oneself be.

In some ways, "waiting on the Lord" is the hardest part of trusting. It is not the same as "waiting around." It is putting yourself with utter vulnerability in his hands.