Quotes About Vulnerability

Eu não podia tão depressa fechar meu coração a ele. Sabia disso. Senti.

Ah, quel che non intendo, è questo che è capace di ammazzarmi...

Machismo itself had turned against the machos, made man a prisoner of himself, obliged not to cry, not to fail to get it up, not to give in, not to say uncle…. Fear, your name is macho, something the Bard never said, but that I do. How many women have screwed the man they wanted, simply because he couldn't refuse a woman?" [House of the Fortunate Buddha]

The easiest kind of relationship for me is with ten thousand people. The hardest is with one.

Instead of getting hard ourselves and trying to compete, women should try and give their best qualities to men — bring them softness, teach them how to cry.

How could a man with so much heart die from a heart attack?

It takes courage to re-own our lost parts, but authentic spirituality requires that we make the shadow visible and that we make that which is divided whole.

Risk, the willingness to accept an unknown future with open hands and happy heart, is the key to adventures of the soul. Risk stretches us to discover the rest of ourselves - our creativity, our self-sufficiency, our courage. Without risk we live in a small world of small dreams and lost possibilities.

Benedict sets up a community, a family. And families, the honest among us will admit, are risky places to be if perfection is what y ou are expecting in life.

Don't worry. You're safe now. You've got nothing left to steal.

Learn to be - gentle with them. Learn that... that gentleness isn't... weakness.

The wind shows us how close to the edge we are.

We are not idealized wild things. We are imperfect mortal beings, aware of that mortality even as we push it away, failed by our very complication, so wired that when we mourn our losses we also mourn, for better or for worse, ourselves. As we were. As we are no longer. As we will one day not be at all.

The little girl's dependency on her father made [his] abuse more insidious.

She knew she needed Lynn, so she wouldn't get angry at her. Jo's parents had taught her long ago that it was not safe to get angry at someone she depended on. (53)

she was a little frightened that first afternoon. There seemed such a huge expanse of water and sky, and so little of herself.

His [(Rumpelstiltskin)] feeling that his name, which is his identity, must be kept secret, or else he'll be revealed to the world as the hunchbacked, shriveled, ridiculous creature he knows himself to be. And if that happens, he'll disappear.

Life-threatening illness calls us to a place—metaphorically a desert or mountain peak—where, as we sit, the hard wind of reality strips away all the trappings of life, like so much clothing, makeup, and accessories.

if we manipulate others into not sharing so we don't have to hear, so we don't have to listen, or if we react with horror or abandon the scene, we stifle our empathy and rob ourselves of this fundamental virtue of humanity.

them," Snow admitted.

Bay caressed his smooth cheek. "You shaved. It feels soft." He caught her hand and kissed her palm. "Go," he said, opening the bathroom door again. "Before I change my mind and you end up making love to a man who smells like a bear.

Everything if only you could see it clearly enough, is beautiful and complete – the ragged nest, Marion's torn muslin skirts fluted like a nautilus shell, Irma's ringlets framing her face in exquisite wiry spirals – even Edith, flushed and childishly vulnerable in sleep.

You are going to get strong! You are going to walk!" "Mama, please!" "You want to know why? They take the weak ones first." Everything was always about the war.

And while he worked he told her about the hand that had been holding his. Debbie gasped. "How could you stand it? I'm glad it didn't happen to me! I would have died, right there on the stairs, and you would have had to drag my body all the way down.