Quotes About Vulnerability

Well. Who wouldn't break? I broke. You broke.' 'And we both emerged stronger.' 'We both emerged', I modified his words.

When you cut pieces out of the truth to avoid looking like a fool, you end up sounding like a moron instead.

Night eyes had risen and stretched stiffly. Now he came to lie down beside me. He set his head on my knee. 'I don't understand. You are ill?' 'No. Just stupid.' 'Ah. Nothing new there. Well, you haven't died from that so far.

There are few things so tender as a man's dignity.

If a man hits you once, he'll hit you again, they say. And the same is true for lying. But I stayed, and I listened and I believed. What a fool I've been!

Death stalks us, and he is ever sure of his kill. It is not a thing to dwell on, but it is something we all know, in our guts and bones. All save humans.

For her part, she seemed totally unaware of how her eyes could meet mine and turn my tongue to leather in my mouth. No magic I possessed, no Skill, no Wit, was proof against the accidental touch of her hand against mine, nor could defend me against the awkwardness that overwhelmed me at the quirk of her smile.

Sometimes," he observed obliquely, "you have to trust people to understand you are not perfect."" "p. 267: Chade to Fitz

Be very chary of telling your hoarded secrets. Many lose all power once they have been divulged. Be even more careful of sharing your own secrets lest you find yourself a puppet dancing on someone else's strings.

Sometimes you have to trust people to understand you are not perfect

Não reconheci a minha voz quando perguntei ao mundo: 'Como pode a coisa mais difícil que já fiz na vida ser também a mais cobarde?

If ever you make it so they don't need you, they will kill you.

Nenhum inimigo, bem sabia, é mais temível do que aquele que ferimos gravemente.

I have been in howling storms in which a shout is reduced to a whisper, moved across the sea's featureless face in a gray fog that does not yield to human eyes.

No man should be reminded that he has screamed in front of people who delighted in it.

When you speak in riddles, it exasperates me. Yet when you try to speak clearly of yourself, it frightens me.

I need a friend, and I have none to whom I can admit my weakness, my fear, my errors.

Poverty and simplicity were not shields from the greed of others. If you had nothing left to steal, they'd take your body and enslave it.

What I said to you earlier, I was angry, I was..." "Right on target." The sound he made might have been a laugh, if not so freighted with bitterness. "Only in the way that people who know one another best know how to hurt one another best," I pleaded.

Sometimes a man doesn't know how badly he's hurt until someone else probes the wound.

He wanted so bad to reach down and kiss her... She'd probably break his jaw.

Amber emerged from behind the screen. But it was not Amber who stood before her. Instead, it was a smudge-faced slave girl. A tattoo sprawled across one wind-reddened cheek. A crusty sore encompassed half her upper lip and her left nostril. Her dirty hair was pulling free from a scruffy braid. Her shirt was rough cotton and her bare feet peeked out from under her patched skirts. A dirty bandage bound one of her ankles. Rough canvas work gloves had replaced the lacy ones Amber habitually wore.

He was stupid, stupid, stupid, and his only hope of surviving was in not letting anyone else know how stupid he was.

One part braggart to one part coward. He would fear everyone he did not control. And the next day he would fear those he controlled even more.