Quotes About Wounds

Wounded people may not get over their wounds easily or quickly. Wounds can be hard just to brush aside because the wounder says, "I'm sorry.

Even if you run from the wounders, you can't outrun God.

As painful and devastating as wounds inflicted by God's people can be, they have made me more determined to live out what I believe authentically. I am deeply motivated to know God. I want to know Him as He truly is, not through the distorted reflection of those who called themselves by His name.

but running back, that God showed up and taught her a profound life lesson: Even if you run from the wounders, you can't outrun God.

In every childhood there is a door that closes. Only real love waits while we journey through our grief. That is the real trustworthiness between people. In all the epics, in all the stories that have lasted through many lifetimes, it is always the same truth: love must wait for wounds to heal. It is this waiting we must do for each other, not with a sense of mercy, or in judgment, but as if forgiveness were a rendezvous. How many are willing to wait for another in this way?

One writes of scars healed, a loose parallel to the pathology of the skin, but there is no such thing in the life of an individual. There are open wounds, shrunk sometimes to the size of a pin-prick but wounds still. The marks of suffering are more comparable to the loss of a finger, or of the sight of an eye. We may not miss them, either, for one minute in a year, but if we should there is nothing to be done about it.

There are open wounds, shrunk sometimes to the size of a pin-prick but wounds still.

One writes of scars healed, a loose parallel to the pathology of the skin, but there is no such thing in the life of the individual. There are open wounds, shrunk sometimes to the size of a pin-prick but wounds still. The marks of suffering are more comparable to the loss of a finger, or of the sight of an eye.

I aspire to nothing. Life wounds me. I feel uncomfortable where I am and uncomfortable where I think I could be.

Prince of better hours, once I was your princess, and we loved each other with a different kind of love, whose memory wounds me.

I'd like to die listening to a piece of music. I imagine this as so easy, so natural, but naturally it's quite impossible. Notes stab too softly. The wounds they leave behind may smart, but they don't fester. Melancholy and pain trickle out instead of blood. When the notes cease, all is peaceful within me again.

Images,wounds. That is all he can see. And the images are dissolving little by little, like the setting sun, leaving only the wounds.

Some people say there is relief in the sharing of cares and pains. To me there was no catharsis, only an unearthing of rotting corpses of memories, a baring of still suppurating wounds.

To me there was no catharsis, only an unearthing of rotting corpses of memories, a baring og still suppurating wounds.

and some feminists say it's her own fault for living with him, and she hides her dark red velvet wounds from pride, the pride of the victim, the pride of the victim at not being the perpetrator, the pride of the victim at not knowing how to withhold love.

wounds. No petechial hemorrhages, which rules out strangulation. No bleeding in the ears, which eliminates some brain traumas. We do have a large

May I have relief-of-pain, please?" he begged. It was always provided in his everyday life for the bruises and wounds, for a mashed finger, a stomach ache, a skinned knee from a fall from a bike.

He wasn't surprised. After the thorny branches had shredded her dress, they had reached for her legs as night fell, and now he could see that she was terribly lacerated. The wounds were deep, and he could see exposed muscles and tendons glisten yellow and pink in a devastating kind of beauty where the ragged flesh gaped open.

One learns better than to hand one's choices to fear. With age, with every wound and scar, one learns.

It has been said, 'time heals all wounds.' I do not agree. The wounds remain. In time, the mind, protecting its sanity, covers them with scar tissue and the pain lessens. But it is never gone.

It has been said that time heals all wounds, I don't agree. The wounds remain. In time, the mind, protecting its sanity, covers them with scar tissue, and the pain lessens, but is never gone.

Hope has always struck me as the most tender of human emotions. It has no guarantee, it requires bravery, it makes the soul vulnerable, and when dashed it can inflict the graves of wounds.

The beaches were overrun with jellyfish these days, the monstrous red stinging kind that that looked like wounds along the shoreline.

Everyone's running around comparing wounds, like bodybuilders showing off their muscles. And what's really unbelievable is that they really believe they can heal the wounds like that, just by putting them on display.