Quotes About Vulnerability

To put your trust in men is to get yourself killed a little

Since we are nothing but packages of tepid, half-rotted viscera, we shall always have trouble with sentiment.

Suffering exhibits itself; pleasure and the needs of the flesh hang their heads in shame.

Être brave avec son corps ? Demandez alors à l'asticot aussi d'être brave, il est rose et pâle et mou, tout comme nous.

Trust in frightened people takes the place of love.

To put your trust in men is to get yourself killed a little. In

Os lo aseguro, buenas y pobres gentes, gilipollas, infelices, baqueteados por la vida, desollados, siempre empapados en sudor, os aviso, cuando a los grandes de este mundo les da por amaros, es que van a convertiros en carne de cañón... Es la señal... Infalible.

She was the girl with her finger in the dike," she said. "Little did anyone know that when she removed it, all hell was going to break loose.

She's so anxious about being loved, she ends up driving people away.

Falling in love," his father had said. "It's like taking a horse over a brush fence—you get air, rise up, take the jump. And you might land okay, or you might go flying. You want to make sure you're on solid ground. That's what loving someone is like: you land safely. You have ground under your feet.

what would it be like—to see the world like that? To love nature and people in such a pure way that it would never occur to her to ask what they could do for her? Emma knew that Stevie was terribly vulnerable—things made her cry so easily.

I stared into the lion's eyes and knew that he could take me down so easily. He'd swipe me with his curved claws, clamp his fangs around my throat or my skull, kill me in an instant.

Abusers are weak. They trap women who have gigantic hearts, who want to help these poor, sad wounded birds.

Stevie wanted to find the right words, to comfort the child. She wanted to ask what had happened to Emma. But she felt constrained, afraid she would say something wrong. Her own mother had died when she was young, and she remembered a world of adults who meant well but just seemed to make everything worse.

And now everyone's afraid of everyone else. A child with diarrhea is abandoned. A grandmother who vomits is left to die. The People are losing touch with their old ways. Fear is driving them from the traditions that have made them strong.

When I'm painting people in clothes I'm always thinking very much of naked people, or animals dressed.

She wanted him to be the sunshine to her clouds. She couldn't handle the idea that he had weather patterns of his own, and that he contained within himself the makings of a downpour and possibly even a monsoon.

Sometimes you've just got to take a chance. Allow yourself to be vulnerable.

The thing about settling down that freaks me out is that you're being honest, You're saying, this is me. This is what I can do. This is it.

else would I be hiding

It was all very well being a can-do independent twenty-first-century woman, but sometimes she just wished her dad was still around to take care of stuff like this.

When I tried to imagine being beautiful, I could only imagine living without the perpetual fear of being alone, without the great burden of isolation, which is what feeling ugly felt like.

There are men who are too fragile to shatter. I belong to them too.

Not only good to be alive, but nice to come with a stranger. Intimacy? For now I want nothing of it. I am simply trying to emerge from the violent unnecessariness of death.