Quotes About Vulnerability

Show Belle who you are, master. Who you really are. Show her your heart.

Roses have thorns, and thorns leave wounds.

As her gaze traveled over the faces on the other side, she realized that it wasn't only a person's strengths but their flaws, that made them truly beautiful.

I don't like hope very much. In fact, I hate it. It's the crystal meth of emotions. It hooks you fast and kills you hard. It's bad news. The worst. It's sharp sticks and cherry bombs. When hope shows up, it's only a matter of time until someone gets hurt.

There is only one thing I fear now - love. For I have seen it and I have felt it and I know that it is love, not death, that undoes us.

What happened was, I told you I loved you.

Love hurt. Honesty made it hurt worse, and I could hardly stand it.

Shut up. I'm drunk and I'm trying to confess, so just let me do it, okay?

He managed to find his way into my heart again and sabotage it from the inside.

This was about to go very bad, because Adam was going to cry. "I miss you," he said, and his voice broke.

How did we get to this place where we had to be tough all the time and never said how much we loved each other?

I continued to move my fingers across his skin exactly as I had before, but I needed to make a decision. I had reached for him, but I could back out of it by trailing my fingers down his arm and settling my hand in his, like I wanted us to be friends. I didn't want us to be friends. Ever so slowly, I slid my hand up his sleeve, across his shoulder, and up his neck to cradle his jaw, prickly with stubble.

You've got me so whipped, I can't think of a single sarcastic thing to say." "That makes me feel powerful and manly.

real computers scared me; if you can find Them, then They can find you...

He looks tired, like someone walked on his skin and left footprints.

Men said "Girls are weak" when in fact girls made them weak.

friendship risks the end of friendship

Phoebe burst into tears. For several minutes she stood weeping in the middle of the road, the choking, gulping sobs of childhood. Something was wrong; something was wrong but she didn't know what. She was alone in the middle of nowhere, behaving strangely, with no one around to help her, and what people were around she wanted only to escape.

And the feeling I had was not of wanting her so much as being surrounded by her, blundering inside her life without having moved.

At times the brusque mass of everything that was not him seemed likely to crush Eddie into dust the way he crushed the dried-out moths that collected in piles on the protectory

At first I thought he was having a stroke or a heart attack, but then I realized I was seeing pure misery, the kind people only show when they think they're by themselves.

After my parents died, it took me months before I could carry on a conversation with someone who had not known them, who expected me to be young and sparkling and untouched by grief.

She wanted to tell him, to have it out in the open. But that wasn't true—she dreaded telling him. What she wanted was already to have told him.

She'd risked everything, and here was the result: the raw, warped core of her life.