Quotes About Vulnerability

Cuántas palabras, sólo para decir que no quiero parecer patético.

You tell me about your ghost," she said. "And I'ss tell you about mine.

To me, real love, the move from power to love, involves immense suffering. Any creative work comes from that level, where we share our sufferings, just the sheer suffering of being human. And that's where the real love is.

When the power comes from within us and we claim it as our own, then we no longer have to affirm ourselves by dominating others. The irony is that we are actually afraid of our own power.

The sight made her ache. How can I not touch you? she thought hopelessly, and then she was doing it, her fingers on his wrist. He didn't jump or even look at her, just stopped writing. Neither one of them moved, nothing moved, and the whole thing lasted three or four seconds at most, but when Pen took her hand away and started to breathe again, her chest hurt, as though she had been holding her breath for a very long time.

Soldiers in the heat of battle; death-row prisoners; explorers stranded in deserts, jungles, on mountaintops; anyone sick or lost or just tired and bewildered: we all wanted our mothers.

Whatever word you use to describe diving into the deepest part of a human. Take your pick; they're all woefully inadequate, but they're also all we have.

Clare wasn't worried anymore about their being mean to each other. She imagined that someday she'd be part of a friendship in which she and the friend thought so highly of each other and were so sure of this that they could say anything.

If you never share the worst thing you've ever done with a single person, if you just carry it all by yourself, maybe it comes between you and everyone you meet, even if it's years later.

She feels like the subject of her sex life is a puppy or a ferret, something she'd never in her right mind let off its leash, but which is now somehow running amok among total strangers.

In online dating, I wonder if I have a nice enough face to get my foot in the door, but when they see my stomach and my thighs they'll be disappointed. Including a full-body shot feels like selling an old couch online and having to include all the scrapes and tiny stains.

Mortal fear is as crucial a thing to our lives as love. It cuts to the core of our being and shows us what we are. Will you step back and cover your eyes? Or will you have the strength to walk to the precipice and look out?

Some people are as fragile as butterflies and sensitive and it's your responsibility not to destroy them. Just because you can

Love meant knowing you could be broken into pieces again, at any time.

She'd found that she needed closeness and trust more than sex. Desire grew out of trust, not the other way round.

I do not fear, for I am protected; I do not feel superior, for I know the cut of being judged. We are all human, in all the ways that matter—but one would not know that for all the ways we become blind to each other, for the smallest trivialities.

I'd never indulged in feelings of loneliness. Too dangerous. I'd learned that after my mother's murder. Loneliness could swallow you up, like a disease. Make you vulnerable to anything, even a smile. But then I'd stopped being lonely. And what was more dangerous? Loneliness? Or having friends and family who could be taken from you? "Grant

I should have known this would happen. But I got happy, and soft. I forgot that secrets never keep.

Stick close to the shelter for the next couple days, okay? If you decide to go running around, find me first. Find Grant. But don't go out by yourself. Got it?" Byron frowned. "No. Why?" Because someone shot me in the head this morning, and he might know you're a weakness of mine . But all I said was, "Perverts." "Perverts," he said, giving me a piercing look. "Right.

Come on. Let's go and sit down. I need to have a beer and a nervous breakdown." "Talk first, then breakdown. I want answers, not drool." "You used to love my drool." "Ha. You funny.

she only showed her silly side to those she thought worthy.

War strips away the thin veneer applied slap-dash by the institutions of society and shows Man for exactly what he is.

Submission is the art of compensating for your weakness by playing to each other's strengths.

Faith is the willingness to look foolish.