Quotes About Vulnerability

At first, I was scared to be alone. No routines. No rules. Just me. But I think... Taylor wiped a tear away. I think I was always in the jungle. Before. It was always there. I think I had to come out here to find the answer. And what did you find? I love myself. They make it so hard for us to love ourselves. Taylor stared off into the dark. Her face gleamed with tears. Snot ran over her lips. The judges won't like that answer. Nobody's judging you. Taylor choked on a sob. Always, she whispered.

Duff's little moans traveled up her spine, made her head buzz. And another thought grabbed hold: She was doing this. She had the power to do this. THat she could be both completely vulnerable and totally in control was mind-blowing.

Just because you loved somebody with your entire soul didn't mean they wouldn't break your heart. And just because somebody loved you didn't mean they'd be able to stop themselves from hurting you to get what they wanted

Sometimes, I wish we were girls again, safe. Mabel snorted in contempt. When has it ever been safe to be a girl?

There is strength in acceptance

Whatever is without question is most vulnerable.

That was the trouble with letting people in—once you'd taken off the armor, it was hard to put it back on.

And afterward, in the small cabin, they'd do this, this tangle of bodies, this blurring of the edges that kept people distant and lonely.

Sam had a skill that often let him take what he needed. But you couldn't do that with love. It had to be given. Shared.

He'd gone goofy for her, and if she broke his heart, that would be the end of the best friendship he'd ever had. He couldn't risk that.

Sometimes, sickness came on like the flood itself, with no way to hold it back. But other times, sickness came about because of the carelessness and unfairness of the world.

We're all damaged, somehow.

People you loved could be gone in a breath. So why didn't knowing that make it any easier to be vulnerable? To tell people that you loved them, that you were hurting, that you were afraid, or that, sometimes, at five in the morning, you were so alone in your skin that you watched the weak light play across the ceiling, willing it toward dawn?

Memphis's eyes fluttered open. Theta's eyes were wide, and she was crying. 'Did I hurt you?' She laughed through tears. 'You could never hurt me.

The human heart dares not stay away from that which hurt it most. There is a return journey to anguish that few of us are released from making.

Very thin ladies, any age, with hand sewing on them, have always frightened me, beginning with a rich great-aunt and her underwear embroidered by nuns. The more bones that show on women the more inferior I feel.

God knows, I'm no expert on relationships, but I do know when something's good. And this thing we've created between us is precious and rare. I only hope it's not fleeting, because for the first time in my adult life, I've given someone the power to hurt me.

He didn't know why he was running away. Maybe because being close to someone took a hell of a lot more guts than being alone.

Er wusste nicht, warum er davonlief. Vielleicht, weil man mehr Mut brauchte, sich jemandem nahe zu fühlen, als allein zu sein.

Not only are many neighborhood conflicts characterized by this insult-for-insult relationship, but many marriages, unfortunately, fall into the same trap. In the chapter on unconditional acceptance, I suggested an exercise in which you divide a sheet of paper into 2 columns and then note your mate's weaknesses in the right-hand column.

When we love, we open ourselves to the possibility of hurt.

She felt both relaxed and protected with him, at least from outside forces. Nothing, it seemed, could protect her from him, and tonight she wasn't even certain she wanted to be. Claimed, and mated. She was his, but was he hers? And if he was, what in hell did they do about it? "I don't even know what you want," she said fretfully, beginning to lose herself in rising sensation. "This," he muttered in a dark, rough tone. "You. Everything.

By morning, she was raw and sore, and knew walking would be an effort. By morning, she could barely remember what it had been like to not know his body, not to have felt him inside her and held him in her arms and absorbed the power of his thrusts as he came. By morning, she was his.

She felt oddly safe with him, though not safe from him.