Quotes About Vulnerability

This is making me crazy. I hate relying on other people to save me, I hate being clingy, I hate it, and every time you show up, I lean on you. - Matilda Scarlet Veronica Betty Vilma Goodnight

Look, I'm not ready for you," Min said. "I'm not prepared. I don't have any defenses when you're around. I make these plans and I mean it, I really do, and then I kiss you because I'm crazy about you which would be fine if I didn't fall in love with you but there that is, just standing there, and you know it, you know you've got me.

For the first time, I saw what was in his heart, and I wondered if he might ever want to look deep enough to see mine.

There were times when I lifted my face to the sky, stretched my arms wide to the winter night, and laughed out loud, so happy was I. The memory of it makes me laugh now, but not from happiness. Be careful what you show the world. You never know when the wolf is watching.

The skin-and-bones dog who shows up at your door. The broken-winged bird you nurse back to health. The kitten you find crying at the side of the road. You think you're saving them, don't you? Ah, child. Can't you see? They're saving you.

He pressed himself into me and kissed my neck, and it was as if everything strong and solid inside me, heart and bones and muscle and gut, softened and melted from the heat of him.

She'd long ago learned that only those with something to lose were afraid of dying.

It's good that you still cry," Isabelle whispered to her. "It's when you stop crying that you're lost.

And that lesson was perfectly clear: There is nothing more dangerous than kindness.

As I turned to go, I nearly trod on the body of a young robin half hidden in the grass. Its wings were twisted and bent. Its body stiff and bloodied. 'A hawk's work,' I thought, wondering if the robin had seen the brilliant blue of the sky and felt the sun on its back before its wings were broken.

She was sorry for all the grim-tale girls locked in lonely towers. Trapped in sugar houses. Lost in the dark woods, with a huntsman coming to cut out their hearts.

Sarcasm is the weapon of the wounded

Even the strong couldn't be strong all the time.

What an incredible metaphor for what fear does to us—it devours our hearts. Hollows us out. Leaves us empty.

Nothing scares a weak man more than a strong woman.

People come out of the woods and pretend to be your friends. They offer you something—laces, a comb—and you take them. Stop it. Stop taking poison from fake friends. It'll kill you.

Sophie lowered her head into her hands, feeling as if she were made of the thinnest glass, so brittle and fragile that the softest tap could shatter her. She had escaped death only to come face-to-face with it once more.

Death wounds only is you let her.

It does not look good. Then again, few things do in the dead of night. The small dark hours are the undoing of many. Candlelight throws shadows on the walls of our souls, shadows that turn a mouse into a monster, a downturn into disaster.

He had to hide his heart. It was the only way he could survive!

I know why this place creeps me out," Neela suddenly said. "There aren't any children here." "Of course there aren't," Josephine said. "Rorrim Drol hates children." "Why?" Neela asked. "Because they're strong and fearless. Their little backbones are made of steel. It takes years for them to soften. Fear only sets in as one grows up, you see.

Es bueno que todavía llores. Cuando dejas de llorar es cuando estás perdida.

It's often the small things that hurt the most—a cold glance, a cutting word, laughter that stops when you enter the room.

Tell him what? a voice inside her asked. Tell him you've fallen for a penniless reporter whom you barely know? That's a brilliant idea, Jo. As soon as you've told Bram, you can tell your mother. I'm sure she'll be delighted.