Quotes About Vulnerability

The most sophisticated people I know - inside they are all children.

One of the few times in a man's life when he is not full of shit!! The morning of a colonoscopy. Enough said!

I think of myself as an intelligent, sensitive human being with the soul of a clown which always forces me to blow it at the most important moments.

No one knew that a killer was already moving through their streets with them, an invisible stalker that would go house to house until it had touched everyone, rich or poor, in some terrible way.

A nation does not have to be overrun by a foreign enemy to be utterly destroyed." Rather,

3. Suggestibility

The walls we build around us to keep sadness out also keeps out the joy.

All of life is a risk; in fact we're not going to get out alive. Casualness leads to casualties. Communication is the ability to affect other people with words.

All I'm writing is just what I feel, that's all. I just keep it almost naked. And probably the words are so bland.

The ability to talk about sensitive areas of our lives with each other has greatly enhanced our marriage. We are able to relate to each other as best friends, to confess sin, or to reveal deep feelings without being accused or mistrusted.

If you have a naturally dominant personality, you must be careful. If your spouse feels as though he or she is being pressured to see and do things your way, they aren't going to be totally open and honest.

You must cultivate emotional openness in your relationship in order to build this level of intimacy. Allow your spouse to share their feelings without judgment or rejection. Celebrate honesty, as long as it is done in love. And share your feelings every day.

The Devil makes easy prey of people who emotionally navigate their lives and marriages

I'm not that squeamish, Mr. Stone." "Ethan," he said. "I'm naked. I'm in a tub. You're wearing my nightshirt. You've already slept in my bed. I think you should call me Ethan.

Weakness begets evil

I try to remind myself of all the mean things she's done to me, but in the end it doesn't matter. With Leah, it never did. Even from the very beginning. No matter how much she hurt me, I always came back. All she had to do was reach for my hand and pull.

I turn my back to Jess while we both get dressed. I'm sweating. Please don't let me have any weird feelings. Please don't let her look at me. Please don't let her be like Leah.

Leah used me. She picked me because somehow she knew I would keep her secrets. Somehow she knew I would do whatever she wanted. She knew I wouldn't stop her. Somehow she knew… . She knew part of me would like it.

It makes me want to cry. Sometimes, when someone is nice to you for no reason but when you need it most, that happens.

my flesh was glass, I spoke in little clicks and chinks, and my transparent self went about its business all that day, the usual.

The thing with dying, well, with death really, is that there's a difference between being someone who knows they can really die at any time and someone who doesn't.

The worst of anything she could do to me would be to make me like her. That's why I ran away.

Writers are not nice people. We can't be.

I don't think you realize how different it is for me than for you. You can make your way by your own wits and claws, while I must always be dependent on some male to protect me. Wits I may have, but claws I am without, and while hands are useful for writing and fine work they are no use in a battle.