Quotes About Vulnerability

And I wondered if as soon as he came to like me he would sink into ordinariness, and if as soon as he came to love me I would find fault after fault, the way I did with Buddy Willard and the boys before him.

My consuming desire to mingle with road crews, sailors and soldiers, bar room regulars - to be a part of scene, anonymous, listening, recording - all is spoiled by the fact that I am a girl, a female always in danger of assault and battery.

I didn't know why I was going to cry, but I knew that if anybody spoke to me or looked at me too closely the tears would fly out of my eyes and the sobs would fly out of my throat and I'd cry for a week. I could feel the tears brimming and sloshing in me like water in a glass that is unsteady and too full.

Immagino che sarò sempre molto vulnerabile, lievemente paranoica. Ma sono anche maledettamente robusta e resistente. E felice come una pasqua.

I began to see why woman-haters could make such fools of women. Woman-haters were like gods: invulnerable and chockfull of power. They descended, and then they disappeared. You could never catch one.

How frail the human heart must be ? a throbbing pulse , a trembling thing ? a fragile, shining instrument of crystal, which can either weep or sing.

Donde quiera que estuviera sentada estaría sentada bajo la misma campana de cristal, agitándome en mi propio aire viciado

I feigned sleep until my mother left for school, but even my eyelids didn't shut out the light. They hung the raw, red screen of their tiny vessels in front of me like a wound. I crawled between the mattress and the padded bedstead and let the mattress fall across me like a tombstone. It felt dark and safe under there, but the mattress was not heavy enough. It needed about a ton more weight to make me sleep.

And then I wondered if as soon as he came to like me he would sink into ordinariness, and if as soon as he came to love me I would find fault after fault, the way I did with Buddy Willard and the boys before him.... The last thing I wanted was infinite security and to be the place an arrow shoots from. I wanted change and excitement and to shoot off in all directions myself, like the coloured arrows from a Fourth of July rocket.

I felt a bit awkward about the tears, but they were real enough.

and I felt their eyes on my flat, virgin stomach.

I hate saying anything to a group of people. When I talk to a group of people I always have to single out one and talk to him, and all the while I am talking I feel the others are peering at me and taking unfair advantage. I also hate people to ask cheerfully how you are when they know you're feeling like hell and expect you to say 'Fine'.

Ama iÅŸ bunu yapmaya gelince, bileÄŸimin derisi gözüme öylesine beyaz ve savunmas?z göründü ki bir türlü yapmad?m. Sanki as?l öldürmek istediÄŸim ÅŸey o derinin alt?nda ya da paÅŸparma??m?n alt?nda yatan o ince mavi damarda deÄŸil baÅŸka bir yerde, daha derinde, daha gizli ve ula??lmas? çok daha güç bir yerdeydi.

Nada melhor do que vomitar com outra pessoa para ganhar intimidade

I didn't know why I was going to cry, but I knew that if anybody spoke to me or looked at me too closely the tears would fly out of my eyes and the sobs would fly out of the throat and I'd cry for a week. I could feel the tears brimming and sloshing in me like water in as glass that is unsteady and too full

But when it cam right down to it, the skin of my wrist looked so white and defenseless that I couldn't do it. I t was as if what I wanted to kill wasn't in that skin or the thin blue pulse that jumped under my thumb, but somewhere else, deeper, more secret, and a whole lot harder to get at.

Then he just stood there [naked] in front of me and I kept on staring at him. The only thing I could think of was turkey neck and turkey gizzards and I felt very depressed.

I didn't want my picture taken because I was going to cry. I didn't know why I was going to cry, but I knew that if anybody spoke to me or looked at me too closely the tears would fly out of my eyes and the sobs would fly out of my throat and I'd cry for a week.

Comecei a entender como os misóginos conseguiam fazer as mulheres de bobas. Eles eram como deuses: invulneráveis e poderosos. Eles desciam à terra e desapareciam. Era impossível colocar as mãos neles.

I knew that if anybody spoke to me or looked at me too closely the tears would fly out of my throat and I'd cry for a week. I could feel the tears brimming and sloshing in me like water in a glass that is unsteady and too full.

I could feel the tears start to spurt from the screwed-up nozzles of my eyes.

The tulips should be behind bars like dangerous animals; They are opening like the mouth of some great African cat, And I am aware of my heart: it opens and closes Its bowl of red blooms out of sheer love of me. The water I taste is warm and salt, like the sea, And comes from a country far away as health. --from Tulips, written 18 March 1961

I feigned sleep until my mother left for school, but even my eyelids didn't shut out the light. They hung the raw, red screen of their tiny vessels in front of me like a wound. I crawled between the mattress and the padded bedstead and let the mattress fall across me like a tombstone. It felt dark and safe under there, but the mattress was not heavy enough. It needed a ton more weight to make me sleep.

What does a woman see in a woman that she can't see in a man?'... 'Tenderness.