Quotes About Vulnerability

Put some make-up on me and I look not unlike a china doll. Put me in a puffy pink dress and I look delicate, dainty, petite. Dammit.

He held Saraid the rest of the way home, and in a way she held him right back, because sometimes and especially for a man, being able to be someone's big strong shoulder to cry on helps you not need to cry so very much yourself.

There are so few true villains, just other screwed-up people who pass the damage on.

Sometimes love isn't about being smart. Sometimes it's about being stupid together. I hated those moments, but I'd grown to understand that love, real love, is full of choices that make no sense, that should go horribly wrong, but you make the choice anyway. Why? Because love is about hope; you hope that this time it will be different.

Let's pretend it is a threat, because you need to understand that the other officers aren't keeping me safe from you; they're keeping you safe from me.

love can die from being withheld, like a flower that is so beautiful you hide it away from the sun trying to make it last longer; but every flower needs sun, and being in love requires risking yourself. It can require risking everything you are, not just in battle, but emotionally. Sometimes you have to risk it all to gain it all.

Truth could be violent, could strip you of dignity and hope just as quickly as a gun.

I've seen what a whip can do,' Jason said suddenly. 'Don't hurt them.' I stared at him. 'You don't strike me as the self-sacrificing kind.' He shrugged. 'We all have our moments.

You make everything all right for me, Anita. You make me feel like a human being instead of a monster.' 'And you love all of me, Micah, every last hard-boiled, ruthless bit of me. You make it okay that sometimes I am the monster.

Some say that that moment during sex when you both have an orgasm your auras drop, you blend your energies, yourselves together. You share so much more than just your body during sex, it's one of the reasons you should be careful who you do it with.

Your first lover gets a piece of your heart until you have enough therapy to take it back.

If what I felt had been an actual wound, I'd have been bleeding to death.

Sono un succubo. Sono una vampira che invece di succhiare sangue si nutre di sesso, e se non mi nutro assorbo l'energia di Damian e di Nathaniel, col rischio di ucciderli. Io stessa morirei senza nutrirmi. Credo che Jean-Claude possa proteggere se stesso e Richard da me. Nonostante questo, potrei ucciderci tutti se non imparassi ad amministrare il mio triumvirato di potere.

love can die from being withheld, like a flower that is so beautiful you hide it away from the sun trying to make it last longer; but every flower needs sun, and being in love requires risking yourself.

I stared at Jean-Claude still cuddled on the corner of the bed. He looked adorable, and if I'd had a gun, I'd have shot him on the spot.

I stared at the phone. I'd had to do it. Had to. So why did my stomach feel tight? Why did I have the urge to call Jean-Claude and warn him? Was it the marks, or was Richard right? Did I love Jean-Claude in some strange, twisted way? God help me, I hoped not.

Now, let's get naked," I said.

You never knew when you'd find a chink in the armor big enough to die through.

It was like someone who is so used to being made fun of that they say the mean things first, try to make it their joke, so the bullies don't get a chance to cut them up. It works, in a way, but it means the person saying the words internalizes the message more, because they're the ones saying stupid, clumsy, fat, ugly—whatever the bullies might say.

There is that moment when you are alone with a man and you both realize it. Alone together, there are always possibilities in that. There is a nearly painful awareness of each other. It can lead to awkwardness, to sex, or to fear, depending on the man and the situation.

One of my other boyfriends said I hated being in love, and he was right. It always felt so stupid, like your insurance rates should go up, because you're impaired. Romantically handicapped.

I dropped the towel to the floor and crawled into the warm nest of the covers and Nathaniel's body. 'You sure you don't need to sleep more than you need sex?' 'Sex energizes me; you should know that by now.' Nicky loomed over both of us, propped up on one shoulder. 'I vote you as an honorary lion.' 'High praise,' Nathaniel said.

Eventually, but I chose her for you. I knew what you liked and I shopped with an eye for keeping you, not for satisfying myself, and it worked. It worked better than I could have dreamed. I should have realized that I had set myself up for the two people I loved most in the world to love each other more than they loved me.' Jean-Claude

He kept my hand in his and touched my face with his fingertips, ever so lightly. He studied my face as if he would memorize it. The tears slowed, and I looked up into that most beautiful of faces. "Anita Blake, will you do me the honor"—he dropped to one knee in the shower—"the honor and wonder of marrying me?" I started to cry again, damn it! I nodded and finally found my voice. "Yes, yes, I will.