Quotes About Scarred

If the yacht's sails were wind-tattered, if its polished brass and varnished wood were scarred from a hundred successful voyages, it would have suited him, because character should always come before beauty.

Bringing the very heavens close enough to touch. It was Zsadist. His eyes closed, his head back, his mouth wide open, he sang. The scarred one, the souless one, had the voice of an angel.

The Reverend grinned, his fangs flashing. You know, I've heard this rumor… about a member of the Brotherhood who's celibate. Yeah, go figure, a warrior who abstains. And I've heard a few other things about this male. He's down to one leg. Has a scarred sociopath for a twin. You wouldn't by any chance know of such a Brother? Phury shook his head. Nope.

The scarred one, the soulless one, had the voice of an angel.

It was Zsadist. His eyes closed, his head back, his mouth wide open, he sang. The scarred one, the soulless one, had the voice of an angel.

Daylong this tomcat lies stretched flatAs an old rough mat, no mouth and no eyes,Continual wars and wives are whatHave tattered his ears and battered his head.

Fear sitters down her spine, yet excitement welled up like a fountain.He looked all man, a tough, scarred man at the edge of his control and knowing he was that way because of her--for her-- was exhilarating. She wanted him to look at her like that--all hungry leopard, a man craving--needing her body. HER body. HER skin. HER.

Fear skittered down her spine, yet excitement welled up like a fountain.He looked all man, a tough, scarred man at the edge of his control and knowing he was that way because of her--for her-- was exhilarating. She wanted him to look at her like that--all hungry leopard, a man craving--needing her body. HER body. HER skin. HER.

She turned her head and there was such sadness, such kindness in her pity for me, that I knew at once how the bold Othello, pirate and soldier—that hard, scarred, killing thing—had lost his heart.

She realized that this scarred, sarcastic boy, was gentle with the things he loved.

The moon is so beautiful. It's a big silver dollar, flipped by God. And it landed scarred side up, see? So He made the world.

the crystal air, with some of the efficacy of faith, seemed to remove the mountains almost to the sea, bringing them so near that one might count the scarred glades on their wooded sides.

Where the smoke cleared, the crystal air, with some of the efficacy of faith, seemed to remove the mountains almost to the sea, bringing them so near that one might count the scarred glades on their wooded sides.

I can only hope that neither of my daughters was scarred by their upbringing.

Now it is you who everyone presumes is so fragile. Wounded. Scarred. Maybe they're right. Perhaps you are. A nursery rhyme comes into your head, and, like an egg, you allow yourself to topple onto your side, your legs still pulled hard against your torso. You lie like that a long while, watching the chrome shell of the tape measure sparkle until the sun moves.

My parents were children during the Great Depression of the 1930s, and it scarred them. Especially my father, who saw destitution in his Brooklyn, New York neighborhood; adults standing in so called 'bread lines,' children begging in the streets.

I was scarred in 1977 by watching Jaws, and I've never got over it.

I would look up at the moon and see that it was not the smooth orb we had all believed, but a pitted and scarred world with no air.

Invisible Oompa-Loompas waiting on a scarred millionaire with an occult library. This could only happen to you,

He was so far from the gallant knights in her romantic fantasies ... He was tarnished, scarred, imperfect. Deliberately he had destroyed any illusions she might have had about him, exposing his mysterious past for the ugly horror that it was. His purpose had been to drive her away. But instead she felt closer to him, as if the truth had bonded them in a new intimacy.

He was so far from the gallant knights in her romantic fantasies...He was tarnished, scarred, imperfect.

clearly used captured data and documents, and the handful of broken, scarred human prisoners who'd been recovered from them had been "interrogated" with a casual, dispassionate brutality that was horrifying.

The gods, as they are beneficent, if they find anyone who is healthy and whole and unscarred by vice, will send him away, surely, after crowning him, not with golden crowns, but with all sorts of blessings.

He didn't see anything. She rolled to her feet. I was in your bed! We could have scarred him for life! Grace, we weren't doing anything. Well, I wasn't. You were snoring. I don't-- She smoothed her dress down and searched out her sandals, shoving her feet into them. She glanced at herself in the mirror over his dresser and groaned. Hair, wild. Lips, swollen. Face, flushed. Nipples, hard. Dammit! She clapped her hands over them. It's like they're broken!