Quotes About Vulnerability

Bernie Ecclestone's comment that 'If you don't have a seat at the table, you're probably on the menu.

I got this idea about being afraid to let go of something and being afraid of sinking into a state of almost anesthesia, where you have to trust other people. Just the paranoia of it all. And it seemed to suit the frenetic track. So I just wrote it out and, you know, said it.

When I think of Simone now, I think of butterfly wings. Beautiful and excruciatingly delicate. Touch them once and they might disintegrate.

When the danger came from within, the risk was always highest.

You were protecting yourself. You wrapped yourself in armor and pretended to be invulnerable. Growing up inside that armor twisted you a bit out of true, but it doesn't matter. The essentials are all there." She searched my face. "The armor's getting too small, Aud. You have to choose.

The world lit up like a silent photograph, flat and grainy, limning the tree stark as a charcoal slash against a parchment sky. Lightning exploded like bluewhite cats-o'-nine-tails until sound rolled and cracked and splintered and Marghe could no longer tell if it was the ground shaking or her muscles; she felt deaf and blind and exposed to her core.

We never spoke of it but we knew that to come within the orbit of each other's skin-scent and cellular hum could end only one way: falling helplessly, spectacularly into the other's gravity well, momentarily brilliant like all falling stars, but doomed, because I loved Rose. And this friendship was too precious to burn.

Begu laughed, but it was a soft laugh, quite grown-up, and it made Hild long to hold her and shield her from the world.

He's kind, yes, but he will hurt you nonetheless, because he will leave. This is not his place. You've only to look in his eyes.

She clung to the saddle horn. If she fell now, he would kill her. She must hold on.

She stepped to one side of her feelings like stepping out of her clothes.

Marghe was perturbed by her sense of security in Aoife's presence, recognizing the feeling for what it was: the passing of responsibility for her personal safety from herself to Aoife. That scared her almost as much as Uaithne had.

I had needed the animal warmth of the sex, had welcomed the familiar building heat of skin on skin, the harsh breath, the shudder that starts in your bones. The terrible urge afterwards to weep until I howled had been new.

Desire wrapped its arms around her and held her still, helpless, able only to breathe.

When an imago first pushes free of the budding chrysalis and unfolds its still-damp wings, anything, even something as ephermal as breath, can deform the final, glorious insect. A crass question now could crush this fragile new understanding. I asked anyway.

It would be so easy-my right hand on his right wrist, pull and step, left arm across his throat, whirl and spread my arms, like a dance, and he would drop spine-down over my thigh, snap: less than three seconds, start to finish-but a broken boy would help nothing.

If I'd known that all it took to worm my way into a woman's heart was to let her beat the shit out of me, my early life would have been different.

It was as their lady, dealer of wyrd and woe, that she judged the miserable bandits they chased down, the children, women, and men hauled cowering in groups of bramble thickets, hiding in twos in an overstood coppice, or sniveling along in a half-eaten bud in the lee of a rock.

She felt depressed and uncertain, not yet ready to be alone with her new and fragile thoughts.

I had seen her vulnerable, now she wanted to see me.

She reached out as if to touch me and for a second I thought I felt her fingers on my cheek, then realized I was crying.

I meant simply to steady her, but she softened into me, almost sagged, and my arm tightened, and my need, and she let herself go so that I was half holding her up with one arm and pulling her pants down with the other.

You have thrown out a signal bright enough to draw any who can hear and see; now they will be clamouring to enter you, to know you, to have you as a bee might climb inside a flower. And like a bee they will strip you bare and leave you heavy will all that makes you who you are.

There is no perfect security. There's always something. Always.