Quotes About Vulnerability

The only way into truth is through one's own annihilation through dwelling a long time in a state of extreme and total humiliation.

Human existence is so fragile a thing and exposed to such dangers that I cannot love without trembling.

No, you don't know what it's like When nothing feels all right You don't know what it's like To be like me To be hurt To feel lost To be left out in the dark To be kicked when you're down To feel like you've been pushed around To be on the edge of breaking down And no one's there to save you No, you don't know what it's like Welcome to my life

Be a bedroom suite breaker, not a heartbreaker.

Better to live with one sheep, than be crowded with wolves.

No matter how strong we are. Memories can make us burst into tears.

Shield your heart from being stabbed, by giving it to no one.

The heart can be broken by many, but it only takes one person to mend it.

We are guided by the strongest and judged by the weakest.

A sudden bold and unexpected question doth many times surprise a man and lay him open.

They flee from me, that sometime did me seekWith naked foot, stalking in my chamber.

There is only one principle of war and that's this. Hit the other fellow, as quickly as you can, as hard as you can, where it hurts him most, when he ain't lookin'.

under our love making I felt a bleakness that couldnt be dispelled. The sadness was in both of us, and I think we pitied ourselves that night, as if we were other people looking down on the couple who lay together on the bed

Only the unprotected self can feel joy.

Tolerating cracks is part of being alive.

Despite the fact that he fathered ten children, Dickens, the write, never gave up his position as a child. He identified with children and with the child-like - those who are not in power and who suffer under the fickle and often sadistic demands of those who are.

In the past I had given myself up to ephemeral pleasures, falling into bed with near strangers, and had no regrets. But those encounters had been simple. With George, I was lost - like a person in another country who can't read the signs. And George had taken the advantage. By claiming that I, unlike he, was intelligible - an open book - he had made me vulnerable.

If the vulnerable aren't also proud, they are crushed.

But the worst was that as time wore on, I became more and more afraid of myself, or perhaps more conscious of the fear I have always had - a fear that within me is some danger I can't name.

I am afraid of writing, too, because when I write I am always moving toward the unarticulated, the dangerous, the place where the walls don't hold. I don't know what's there, but I'm pulled toward it.

Alone, I was strident and articulate in a way I could never be when I faced him. His presence made me shrink, and though it irritated me, I also looked forward to that sensation of being dwarfed, couldn't wait to sit beside him in his office again.

Erotic pleasure, derived from the most intimate physical contact, thrives on the paradox that only by keeping alive the strangeness of that other person can eroticism last.

In good times I cry often, shedding tears easily, but when times are bad, my ducts go dry and I almost never weep.

Every sickness has an alien quality, a feeling of invasion and loss of control that is evident in the language we use about it.