Best 5825 quotes in «hurt quotes» category

“Rachel...you need help.” I laugh and it’s the same bitter laugh I remember him giving when we met so many weeks ago. “So do you.” “I love you.” Isaiah says it so simply that my heart soars and sinks at the same time. “I love you,” I whisper. “Did you ever think that loving someone could hurt so bad?” Isaiah shakes his head and stares out the window. “What’s going to happen to us?” I ask. Because I don’t know how the two of us can continue forward. Isaiah refuses to let me in. It’s sort of cruel. He’s brought me close with his stories of his childhood and with his words of love, but he can’t relinquish control. I refuse to be with someone who won’t treat me as an equal.

I realised that I needed the dark and the light to be a whole person. Trying to be happy by neglecting the harsh reality of my emotional world didn't work. All colours and shades of reality are experienced and by allowing these, without judgement, my heart opened to me. Self-love always starts with 'holding the hurt'.

I realized that whilst crying over the loss, the living did not seem adequate because they were not my loved one. The room full of strangers hurt me profusely. Even as I saw thousands of young people; I felt incomplete and more saddened because the one I wanted to see was buried.

I realized the world around me was fragmented and broken... I had to be gentle enough not to scrape against the jagged pieces. I would not be cut today.

I remember I’ve never shared tears with someone that longed for (me) and loved me; I didn’t know how to be compassionate.” (The truth, the lies & the love, p. 76)

I respect the hell out of her for how hard she’s working to be okay. I just wish she’d let me show her how to let go, how to let herself hurt. I want to take her pain.

I save my truths, my secrets, for the lyrics of our songs... nobody would ever spot them there, hiding in plain sight.

I saw cities, and roads of marvelous construction. I saw cruelty and greed, but I've seen them here too. I saw a people live a life that was strange in many ways, but also much the same as anywhere else." "Then why are they so cruel?" There was an earnestness to the girl's face, an honest desire to know. "Cruelty is in all of us," he said. "But they made it a virtue.

I shall overcome any obscuration.

I should have learned my lesson from Greek myths, really. It so doesn't pay to fall in love with a god. It’s either you get transformed – flower, bull, you name it, the gods can be that petty – or you just get…crushed.

Isn't it always the things that you can't see that hurt you?

I spill my emotions and hopes on pieces of paper and pixels of screens, combining and creating, merging traditional methods with artificial means.Words carved in ink and electricity to facilitate simplicity and eradicate toxicity. No matter what fashion, form, font, method or avenue, the simplest and most meaningful words remain ever so true; I choose and love, only forever you.

I stare at my hands and remember my dad's and how I trusted them when I was a kid until I learned that they could turn into fists. And words could hurt even more than the bruises.

Is that love, do you think?" he asks, sounding genuinely curious. "Being crazy about someone no matter how much they hurt you?

I still smell your absence on my skin. It smells of insomnia and rusted key locks...

I sunk to my knees in the spot he had left me. I felt a part of me had just been lost. I was fraught with so many emotions, confused by them all; however, I was hurt more than anything. Hurt to hear him call himself a monster. A monster? Of all the things I thought he was, a monster was not one of them.

I take my hand back, like a leaf letting go. It hurts too much to hang on. So why does it hurt so much to let go?

It all keeps coming back in flashes. Churns you, burns you till it turns you into ashes.

It didn’t hurt me. Not “hurt”. Hurt is a four letter word. It’s short, almost cute sounding. Aawwww, did that hurt? No. It didn’t hurt. Destroyed, Obliterated, Desecrated, Annihilated, Demolished, Shattered, or Demoralised maybe… But no. It didn’t hurt me. It didn’t “hurt” me at all.

It doesn't mean anything; It doesn't change anything, Except the way I see myself, And it's not supposed to do that. I shouldn't feel this way; I should cry this way, But I kind of do. Yeah, I kind of do.

I tell them stars have never hurt me, I wish I could say the same about people.

I think about the story of Job I heard in Carol Sharp's Sunday school. How he sort of learned to lean into feeling hurt at the end, the way you might lean into a heavy wind that almost winds up supporting you after a while.

It hurts because there is no alternative to Love.

I think I feel it The nimble, fleeting emotion That novels and authors desperately Try to convey in ink and heart blood Whose shadow festers in the loins Of teenagers and their insatiability The hidden thing none of us can see Yet we all disagree what it looks like If only it were love... simple, infinite love But this was more, this was bloodshot madness.

I think what hurts the most is that I just really want to belong. I want to stand inside the circle of other people and be noticed for the right things, but it seems like the wrong things are always bigger. And all the advie I've ever read --smile more, be yourself, dream big, stay positive--seems to have some darker side that's never mentioned.

It hurts? Good.

It hurts to see your loved one in pain, but it hurts more to see you cannot do anything about this pain.

It hurts because you love, and that takes more courage than you know.

It hurts deeper is when somebody you love becomes someone you loved.

It hurts too much so I don't want to talk about it.

It is always the one closest to you that hurts you the most.

It is a strange thing we do, blaming ourselves when people hurt us, but we all do it.

It is artadhyan (mournful contemplation that hurts the self) to complain and cry about one’s own misery and it is raudradhyan (wrathful contemplation hurting the self and others) to give misery to others. It is dharmadhyan (auspicious contemplation, giving happiness to others) to stop both of these. The tool that helps stop both of these is dharmadhyan.

It is better being the victim then the victimizer.

It is better to love and lose than to hurt and win.

It is certain that if there is someone to hurt you on one side, there is also someone to help you on the other side. Just as you cannot see the one that hurts you, you also cannot see the one that helps you. If the one that hurts you cannot last more than four or five years, neither will the one that helps you.

It is better to believe an obvious lie, than to swallow a deceitful truth.

It is considered as artadhyan (adverse internal state that results in hurting the self) only when the mind and the Self (Soul) become engrossed with one another; and also when one does not realize that artadhyan has occurred. And if one realizes that artadhyan has occurred, then it is not called artadhyan; then it is the mind.

It is funny how we hurt ourselves, isn’t it? We’re the reason of what happens to us, we’re the reason of our suffering, we choose the wrong people to hang with, to date and to love. The mind blames the heart, the heart blames the lover and that's how the cycle of life and love goes. Sometimes, we’re so afraid to lose people and end up alone. Despite of their hurting, we think that if we chase them away we’ll never be able to fill their places, we fear feeling empty and alone and most of all we fear the fact that they may move on before us.

It is funny how when you have been hurt in love and you fall in love again, every reason you have for loving that person is both enough and not, all at once.

It is from his grandmother that Henry learns that punctuation can be a weapon. With a comma you can hurt someone.

It pained her that a few hundred words in an also-ran newspaper could get her kicked out. That damned article. And Rook. Her sharpest agony. She had invested in this guy. Waited for this guy. Felt something for this guy that went beyond the bedroom ... or wherever else they took each other. Nikki did not give herself easily to a man, and this betrayal by Rook was why. Heat reflected on her answer at the oral boards about her greatest flaw and admitted her reply was a mask. Yes, her identification with her job was total. But her greatest flaw wasn’t overinvestment in her career. It was her reticence to be vulnerable. Unarmed as she was-literally-she had been emotionally so with Rook. That was the gut shot that had blown clean through her soul.

It isn't always easy to trust people you love - not because you don't love them enough, but because you don't want them to be wrong and get hurt. But getting hurt is a part of life, and so, thank God, is trust.

It may well be that we can never fully adapt to our own deformities. Unable to find a place inside ourselves for the very real pain and suffering that these deformities cause, we come here to get away from such things. As long as we are here, we can get by without hurting others or being hurt by them because we know that we are "deformed". That's what distinguishes us from the outside world: most people go about their lives unconscious of their deformities, while in this little world of ours the deformities themselves are a precondition. Just as Indians wear feathers on their heads to show what tribe they belong to, we wear our deformities in the open. And we live quietly so as not to hurt one another.

I trusted you with my scars But now I'm bleeding Said I was your moon and you were the stars You're so deceiving I trusted you with my scars But now I'm bleeding The wound is deep Blood is seeping

It is not a single crime when a child is photographed while sexually assaulted (raped.) It is a life time crime that should have life time punishments attached to it. If the surviving child is, more often than not, going to suffer for life for the crime(s) committed against them, shouldn't the pedophiles suffer just as long? If it often takes decades for survivors to come to terms with exactly how much damage was caused to them, why are there time limits for prosecution?

It is not written that you may not grieve. It is not written that you may not shed any tears. It is not written that feeling the emotion of the hurt that touched you would only make you weak. But it is written that after the rain, you will get a wonderful rainbow. It is written that at the end of every tunnel, you will find a bright light. It is written that after a journey of a thousand steps, you will find your way to your destination. It is written that after every difficulty comes ease, After every pain comes joy, After every hurt comes understanding. It is not written that you may not grieve, But my Darling, You can’t cry every time someone asks you your name!

It is strange how someone can know exactly how to hurt you the most and at the same time seemingly be completely unaware of what they are doing.

It only took a corny joke, but the smile I saw shone brighter than a glare, more profound than a star. And the best thing... it was so genuine. It was so her. I never thought I could fall more in love.

I truly didn’t mean you harm,” he said. “I know,” she whispered, “but you never meant for me to be free, either.