Quotes About Wounds

His words brought back to her the misery of her journey home after their last meeting for the mark of the hours she had spent since she had left him had cut deeply, the wounds were raw and the memory of pain came through her happiness and she did not think she could bear to be hurt again.

Time, and the grand gesture of forgiveness, helps to heal old wounds.

God knows our crooked places that need to be made straight, the wounds in our hearts that fester for years unhealed, the broken pieces of our lives that seem beyond repair. And He who is the author of miracles has infinite desire as well as power to heal them all.

El ego se disipa y desaparece cuando lo entregamos a las manos de Dios. Son heridas, no maldad, lo que tenemos

We often mistake the journey of healing as one that covers over a wound. But as wounds need air and light to knit and heal, our pain and sorrow need to be brought out into the open so we can be healed by life

Such emotions, sudden bursts of sexual jealousy that pursue us through life, sometimes without the smallest justification that memory or affection might provide, are like wounds, unknown and quiescent, that suddenly break out to give pain, or at least irritation, at a later season of the year, or in an unfamiliar climate.

Still, I gave her a call, wondering if she might have lost someone herself, but our talk was limited to the surreal events we'd just watched on television. A crisis does draw people together, but rarely for the right reason. The old wounds flare up again soon enough; the bond lasts no longer than the terror.

Naarmate de stilte langer duurde, nam de pijn toe. De tijd heelt niet alle wonden, ontdekte hij, de tijd scheurt wonden open, zorgt voor vergiftigingen en ontstekingen. De dood maakt misschien een einde aan alle pijn, de tijd laat dat na.

It was worth a wound - it was worth many wounds - to know the depth of loyalty and love that lay behind that cold mask.

Time wounds all wholes. To exist in Time is to suffer through an endless exile, a successive severing from those precious few moments of feeling at home in the world.

The idea of asking Joe for help makes me wince. It's humiliating. It's opening old wounds. It's my worst option. But it's my only option. Slowly, I draw my phone out of my pocket. I scroll down to Joe's number. And I send him a text. It's very short and to the point. In fact, it just reads: Hi.

Invited, not inflicted; of all wounds, those that seem willful are the worst to bear.

yes and you too—that wounds us all together

without my wounds, who was I? My scars were my face, my past was my life.

Tides washed the wounds but the scars remained and continued to burn whenever a similar wind blew...

Words can be arrows that inflict wounds. They can also be bandages that heal.

Words cut deeper than knives. A knife can be pulled out, words are embedded into our souls.

The needles they poke you with leaves a hole that closes in. But unkind words can make a hole that will never mend.

I hadn't understood at the time. If sinners were so unhappy, why would they prefer their suffering? But now I knew why.Without my wounds, who was I? My scars were my face, my pastwas my life.

They must have His grace, the Spirit of Christ, to help their infirmities, or they cannot resist evil. Jesus loves to have us come to Him just as we are, sinful, helpless, dependent. We may come with all our weakness, our folly, our sinfulness, and fall at His feet in penitence. It is His glory to encircle us in the arms of His love and to bind up our wounds, to cleanse us from all impurity.

God loves you. He does not wish to draw you nigh to Him to hurt you, oh, no; but to comfort you, to pour in the oil of rejoicing, to heal the wounds that sin has made, to bind up where Satan has bruised. He wants to give you the garments of praise for the spirit of heaviness.—That I May Know Him, p. 246.

Every friendship is an inconspicuous drama, a series of subtle wounds.

No one can survive childhood without being wounded. Everyone remembers at least one time when their parents rejected them, pushed them away, even though they may have still been in the womb, blind, and unable to speak. That's why, as adults, we all look for someone to become our parents again, and for someone to look after us in times of need. And we search for a person to live with who can provide the companionship we so desperately want.

I'm still not ready to believe time heals wounds, but I think maybe something else does. We heal wounds. Not time. Us.