Quotes About Vulnerability

The baby's eyes were dark, almost black, and when I nursed her in the middle of the night, she'd stare at me with a stunned, shipwrecked look as if my body were the island she'd washed up on.

What Rilke said: Surely all art is the result of one's having been in danger, of having gone through an experience all the way to the end, to where no one can go any further.

What can it be, do you think? A hidden nerve that's given way? Or something we have failed in or sinned against in ourselves, perhaps—who knows? A soul is such a fragile thing, and no one knows how far the soul extends in a human being. We ought to be good to ourselves—

Without me you can do nothing.

Only once was this not an option. A girlfriend had been pinned against the wall by a wiry, tattooed man whose speech was slurred by a combination of drink and being from Glasgow.

I hate snails. I don't trust them. Pulling their house on their back. Walking around, "Nothing can harm me, I've got my house on my back." Crunch. "Where did that foot come from? Bastard broke my house. I don't have insurance for that."

I considered sex work, but then I bent over and looked at my asshole in a mirror. Nobody was going to pay me for access to that thing.

Without moving from my position by the tree, I unzip my pants.

I love you all, so much more than you should ever love me.

I suppressed another shiver - I did not want Zachary taking off any more clothes on my account.

He knelt and slowly ran his hand down my arm, his lids heavy and his lips parted. "Aura . . . where can I touch you?" "Anywhere." His hand left my arm and drifted to the rise of my hip bone. "And where can I kiss you?" I took a deep breath, long past ready for the future. "Everywhere.

As he presses me against the car and his fingers tangle in my hair, I find myself hoping-and fearing-that I'll never be the object of such a love, one that could bring a man to his knees and never let him stand again.

It scared me to need anyone so much. if our souls became inextricably tangled, would mine still be mine? Did I care?

When the borderline is alone, continuity and connectedness cease. Like sand falling through her fingers, her confidence - even her sense of reality - slip away.

Borderline individuals are the psychological equivalent of third-degree burn patients. They simply have, so to speak, no emotional skin. Even the slightest touch or movement can create immense suffering."1

Despite education and knowledge and experience, when you are the patient--suffering, confused, and despairing--it is very, very hard to take matters into your own hands. I was not a George Griffin, able to stand alone and challenge the prevailing assumptions. I needed an external voice, strong and determined, to guide me.

Self-pity can make one weep, as can onions.

Lady, I'm like, a kryptonite member.

In many ways, our sinful flesh acts as a mole. It is constantly responding to the allurements of the world and the enticements of the devil, and is constantly seeking to collaborate with them. And so we are very vulnerable spiritually. The

A day without newspapers is like walking around without your pants on.

No one survived on the streets without a protective mask. No one survived naked. You had to have a role. You had to be "thug," "playa," "athlete," "gangsta," or "dope man." Otherwise, there was only one role left to you: "victim.

I've come to believe that it's the stronger man who expresses his emotions rather than swallowing them and allowing them to fester.

Every man's dream is to be able to sink into the arms of a woman without also falling into her hands

Human beings invent myth, ideology, and religion as means of denying reality and replacing death with palliative fantasies. Helplessness and death are blows to human narcissism. Human beings create illusions about themselves, lie to themselves as a means to feel secure and less vulnerable.