Best 5825 quotes in «hurt quotes» category

Reality is knowing that you will get hurt. That there’s no stopping it, but you still try. Even after you’re hurt, you first want to suffer through it, for some reason thinking the afflictions will help. You find out later that the remedy is time. Time supposedly heals everything. How can you know though? Is it when you forget or when it doesn’t hurt to think about it anymore?

Realization hits you several times until you can't get up.

Relationships are like walls painted off-white and every time you’ll hurt me, it will be like resting dirty shoes on them, like bashing holes in the walls, one after the other. And then there will come a day, where the walls will be filled with so many holes, that there wouldn’t be any place left for you to place the tiniest kiss. Only then will I walk away for good.

Relatives are most likely the people who are going to hurt ya.

Release the ones that hurt you and kept you trapped, SET YOURSELF FREE

Relationships are like glass, complacent when cherished and irreplaceable once trampled on. It is advisable to let the broken glass be than hurt yourself trying to put it back together.

Religion [Dharma] means to do good for others and non-religion [Adharma] means to hurt others. This is referred to as religion-nonreligion [Dharma-Adharma]. Science is to transcend religion and non-religion.

Religion (dharma) means to give happiness in any way to any living being. And to hurt any living being in any way is wrong doing (non-religion). This definition of religion is all one needs to understand.

Respect the wounds which you gave like that Keep them in Heart for forever and never treated

Responding to hurt with hurt only increases the chaos within. Inner Peace develops when you let your words and actions match you not them.

Respond with love and kindness when someone trying to hate you and hurt you.

Respond with love even when someone wants to hurt you.

Rigor Mortis.” I say, almost as an apology. But he won’t have any of it. He locks onto my gaze. He doesn’t lean forward, but he doesn’t need to, suddenly the room feels like it’s filled with him. His presence floats in the air like a noxious gas, and I’m breathing it in. “Ike, you don’t get it. That’s why I wanted to talk to you. Do you think I have the right to talk to anyone? Do you think its fun to have a ‘human’ brain in a pet’s body? Sure, I have Kamu. And that’s fugging great, but guess what? Kamu is queen to be, and emotionally unstable.” I've never heard Rig talk this powerfully before, but he doesn’t seem scary, just sad. “And then I get someone else I can actually talk to, Ike, I get you. And you don’t treat me like I’m a pet and you talk about Kamu like she needs to be protected and you are there. You are there, and you keep being there, and the only one who’s ever there is Kamu, but now there is Ike. And Ike is perfect, albeit a bit dense, but perfect.” “Rig, I’m really sorry bu-“ I start, I don’t know how much more of this I can take. With each sentence Rig loses some of his force, he sounds more pathetic and lost. “I’m not done.” He pronounces the words in such a voice that it makes me shut up more than the context of the sentence does. “And all I want is to be with this boy who is there, this boy who is my friend, this boy who isn’t always caught up in politics. All I want is to have my one good break.” He finishes. I keep holding his eye contact, and his eyes, they already reflect hurt and rejectment. I don’t know if from me…or from life.

Riluci d'oro dove la vita ti ha scheggiato

Saat kita sudah lebih dewasa, saat ambisi dan harga diri tidak ada lagi di antara kita, apakah kita bisa kembali bersama?

RYLAN!" The yell comes out of nowhere and nearly gives me a heart attack. Tearing my eyes away, I watch as Babette comes crashing through the undergrowth. With no regard that I might be severely injured, she bounds over and grabs me in a bear hug. "Rylan! Oh my God, Rylan," Babette whimpers. She gently rocks me like I'm five years old again. There are some more footsteps, and Aidan and Nadia soon appear. Relief fills both their faces, with Nadia crying happily on Aidan's shoulder. Just as I think she's going to crush me, Babette finally pulls back, her face shiny with tears. "Rylan, I thought I'd lost you. I thought I was never going to see you again. I—" I hold up a hand. "Babette, it's okay. I'm alive. Not perfect, but I'm alive." I gesture to my leg. "Holy crap!" the twins say together, staring at my leg in horror and disgust. It only takes one glance for Nadia to really start sobbing. "Nadia! Nadia...don't cry," I murmur in an attempt to comfort her. Since she's such a happy person most of the time it hurts to see her like this. "It'll heal up. It's fine." "B-but it-it's horrible! You near-nearly drowned an-and now you're hurt!" Aidan pulls her into an awkward hug, trying to calm her down.

Sakit itu biasanya dari pikiran.

Samuel," Amelie said, and her voice was low and quiet and warm. She bent closer to him. "Samuel. Come back to me." His eyes opened, and they were all pupil. Scary owl eyes. Claire bit her lip and thought again about running, but Hans and Gretchen were at her back and she knew she didn't have a chance, anyway. Sam blinked, and his pupils began to shrink slowly to a more normal size. His lips moved, but no sound came out. "Breathe in," Amelie said, in that same quiet, warm tone. "I'm here, Samuel. I won't leave you." She stroked fingers gently over his forehead, and he blinked again and slowly focused on her. It was like there was nobody else in all the world, just the two of them. Amelie was wrong, Claire thought. It isn't just that Sam loves her. She loves him just as much.

Sam, I know you’re upset over what happened with you and Drake,” Astrid began. “Upset?” Sam echoed the word with an ironic smirk. “But that’s no excuse for you keeping secrets from us.” “Yeah,” Howard said, “Don’t you know only Astrid is allowed to keep secrets?” “Shut up, Howard,” Astrid snapped. “Yeah, we get to lie because we’re the smart ones,” Howard said. “Not like all those idiots out there.” Astrid turned her attention back to Sam. “This is not okay, Sam. The council has the responsibility. Not you alone.” Sam looked like he could not care less about what she was saying. He looked almost beyond reach, indifferent to what was going on around him. “Hey,” Astrid said. “We’re talking to you.” That did it. His jaw clenched. His head snapped up. His eyes blazed. “Don’t push me. That wasn’t you with your skin whipped off and covered in blood. That was me. That was me who went down into that mine shaft to try to fight the gaiaphage.” Astrid blinked. “No one is minimizing what you’ve done, Sam. You’re a hero. But at the same time—” Sam was on his feet. “At the same time? At the same time you were here in town. Edilio had a bullet in his chest. Dekka was torn to pieces. I was trying not to scream from the…You and Albert and Howard, you weren’t there, were you?” “I was busy standing up to Zil, trying to save Hunter’s life,” Astrid yelled. “But it wasn’t you and your big words, was it? It was Orc who stopped Zil. And he was there because I sent him to rescue you. Me!” He stabbed a finger at his own chest, actually making what looked like painful impact. “Me! Me and Brianna and Dekka and Edilio! And poor Duck.

Saya boleh dengar bunyinya, hati yang meretak, membisik, macam tilde-tilde.

Saying that you do not remember something or someone is a less embarrassing or hurtful way of saying that you do not know it or them anymore.

Screw the daring tough guy image, what happened with us broke me.

Search the whole world until you meet yourself.

Secrets only ended up hurting other people.

Selfish love hurts, selfless love heals.

She ached: oh, how she ached. Her soul was like one big bruise.

Semua orang akan melukan engkau, semua orang akan membuatkan engkau kecewa. Yang itu engkau tak boleh nak elak, Dentang. Yang boleh engkau buat adalah memilih, luka dari siapa yang engkau sanggup tahan.

S'en est allée l'amante Au village voisin malgré la pluie Sans son amant s'en est allée l'amante Pour danser avec un autre que lui Les femmes mentent mentent

She had the blood of the sun running through her veins and the dust of stars at her fingertips. Her every breath birthed new cosmos and her thoughts were the super moon of the darkest night. Every word was a supernova and every step an inescapable singularity. Her touch though...it was soft.

She felt justified in hurting him, because he had hurt her...but now all her justifications fell away like dead butterflies...

She had loved him, she thought now, because, just at that time, she had had to have something else, someone else, to love, a private place for wounded love to go. But that had been, as she had then suspected and now knew, a device, a dream.

She had the prettiest eyes & prettiest smile with Wounds on her heart and bruises on her soul~

She is not with me this grief is not bigger then this relax that she is with her choice

She didn't care about anything, or maybe she cared too much.

She felt damned. As though she were marching to her death. She felt like had been sentenced. And yet she felt eerily free.

She has shared her hurt with me, and now a little bit of it is mine. This thing she couldn't bear alone, I can bear some of it, I can be hurt, too, and here's the thing you'd never expect about this kind of second-hand-hurt - it feels so good, it makes you feel whole, it makes you feel necessary, and even if you don't realize it right away, you'll find, as time passes, as the bearing of the hurt further intoxicates you, makes you more fully hers and she more fully yours, that you'll do anything to keep it; you'll say anything, you'll believe anything, you'll compromise anything, you'll build your self-worth around that tiny grain of hurt she lent you, and in return you'll hold her chin in your hand and run your thumb over the corner of her mouth and tickle the back of her earlobe with your finger and whisper to her over and over and over that "it's okay, it's okay, it's okay -

She, herself, had only been in love once and it ended worse than a train wreck would, and she hated herself for what she had become because of it. Because of her ex-boyfriend, she didn’t trust easily, she didn’t date as much anymore, and she found herself not believing in love anymore. She told herself that after him, she was never going to put her heart through love again.

She knew nothing of the massacre that went on around her, but when she released the wail of a broken hearted mother, one man heard her. The one who took her son's life.

She is beyond any mortal structure of words, yet she inspires the effort to try anyway.

She is not with me,this grief is not bigger then this happiness that she is with her choice

She looked at him with so much love that I had to turn away. At least I know what love looks like, I told myself. That's something. No one had ever looked at me like that, but I'd be able to recognize it if they ever did.

She puts her head on his shoulder, and for a second, it's like the other good night, the night of the bonfire, the brief lifting of the yoke, freedom from the circle: Marco hurting Anna, Anna hurting Ted, Ted hurting Rachel, these endless rounds of jealousy and harm.

She realized that her undiluted love had also given him the power to hurt her but she decided that spirit of the soul can always transcend the pain of the ego.

She's an array of undiscovered words, of feeling beyond my threshold. I'm just a man, trying to hold himself together in her wake.

She's hurt and still imagines I'd worry about him for even a second ? I touch her shoulder. Her touch her shoulder. Her dark hair brushes the back of my hand. Her dark eyes shine. Their brightness goes all the way down. "You found me," she says. I kneel beside her. I take her hand. "I found you". "My back is broken,"she says. "I can't walk." I slide my arms beneath her. "I'll carry you".

She speaks in heartbeats and the rises of her chest, words forever seared in thoughts that will never rest.

She's proud of you. She said so herself. And she knows you deserved a chance to be happy. I know that, too" I added. "I just wish Henry could look at me the way he looks at you." Persephone wrapped her fingers around mine. "You should be glad he doesn't. When he looks at me, he hurts. But when he sees you..." She smiled faintly "He has hope. I'm not surprised you don't notice it. It took me a while to read him, too. I spent thousands of years with him though, and I know that look. I saw it the day we got married. You don't forget the first time someone looks at you like that.

She used to think alone was the answer. Alone would stop the whispers and the taunts. Alone couldn't get her into any more trouble. Alone meant not getting hurt. Now, she'd give anything to see another human being. To hear someone call her name

She swung her fist at Nicolae’s head. He raised an arm to block the blow, and she delivered a killing stab with her wooden dagger. Nicolae laughed, staggering dramatically to the ground. “Dead, again, at the hands of the ugliest girl in creation.” He stuck out his tongue, face contorted in a grimace. Lada kicked him in the stomach. “I am no girl. Who is next?” The other Janissaries, gathered in a loose circle around Lada and Nicolae, shuffled their feet and avoided eye contact. Nicolae pushed himself up on an elbow. “Really? Cowards!” “I still have bruises from the last time.” “I cannot sit without pain.” “She fights dirty.” Ivan did not even respond, having never forgiven Lada for besting him when they were introduced. He refused to fight her and rarely acknowledged her presence. Lada laughed, showing all her sharp teeth. “Because when you are on the battlefield, honor will mean so much. You will die with a blade between your ribs, secure in the knowledge that you fought with manners.” She picked up her dull practice sword, abandoned on the edge of the circle, and swung it through the air, sweeping it across the line of the Janissaries’ collective throats.

She laid in the rubble of the vengeant storm that passed by. They found nothing on her breathing body, except the stains of her predator