Best 5825 quotes in «hurt quotes» category

before you grow you will break and sometimes this is the best kind of heartache

Behind this smile in my face Lies the dark shadow of emptiness Hiding from your eyes within my gaze Concealed with sham happiness.

Being alone is more painful than getting hurt.

Being deemed a fool, even if it is done by a fool, does not hurt, unless you are a fool.

Being in love with your best friend is problematic.

Being rejected by someone you knew you never stood a chance with is like pouring salt on a wound that already has salt in it. It preserves the hurt.

Believing or not your mother is the only one who believes in you, don’t get hurt by something spoken, but only you know what you are and what you will become.

BE REAL Bring it on- And let truth be my existence. Value my life- And tell me like it is. Bark at me when I'm wrong- And hug me when I'm right. Praise me if I succeed- And tell me if I fail. Laugh at me if you think I'm funny- And wink at me if you think I'm cute. Yell at me if I ever hurt you- And scold me if I'm ever bad. Keep things real with me, Because I want to be alive, I want my world to be real- And I want to see your spirit. I want to hear you breathe- And I want to know how you feel. Don’t waste my time with insincerities. Keep my world real.

Beth’s voice broke. “I can’t lose you guys.” And there it was. She sat here bleeding because she loved me and Isaiah. For the millionth time, I wished the system was a person. One person I could name, know and hold responsible for screwing every single one of us. Right now, Beth’s mom’s new boyfriend would have to do.

Betrayal is too kind a word to describe a situation in which a father says he loves his daughter but claims he must teach her about the horrors of the world in order to make her a stronger person; a situation in which he watches or participates in rituals that make her feel like she is going to die. She experiences pain that is so intense that she cannot think; her head spins so fast she can't remember who she is or how she got there. All she knows is pain. All she feels is desperation. She tries to cry out for help, but soon learns that no one will listen. No matter how loud she cries, she can't stop or change what is happening. No matter what she does, the pain will not stop. Her father orders her to be tortured and tells her it is for her own good. He tells her that she needs the discipline, or that she has asked for it by her misbehavior. Betrayal is too simple a word to describe the overwhelming pain, the overwhelming loneliness and isolation this child experiences. As if the abuse during the rituals were not enough, this child experiences similar abuse at home on a daily basis. When she tries to talk about her pain, she is told that she must be crazy. "Nothing bad has happened to you;' her family tells her Each day she begins to feel more and more like she doesn't know what is real. She stops trusting her own feelings because no one else acknowledges them or hears her agony. Soon the pain becomes too great. She learns not to feel at all. This strong, lonely, desperate child learns to give up the senses that make all people feel alive. She begins to feel dead. She wishes she were dead. For her there is no way out. She soon learns there is no hope. As she grows older she gets stronger. She learns to do what she is told with the utmost compliance. She forgets everything she has ever wanted. The pain still lurks, but it's easier to pretend it's not there than to acknowledge the horrors she has buried in the deepest parts of her mind. Her relationships are overwhelmed by the power of her emotions. She reaches out for help, but never seems to find what she is looking for The pain gets worse. The loneliness sets in. When the feelings return, she is overcome with panic, pain, and desperation. She is convinced she is going to die. Yet, when she looks around her she sees nothing that should make her feel so bad. Deep inside she knows something is very, very wrong, but she doesn't remember anything. She thinks, "Maybe I am crazy.

Beware the honest, ... they will hurt you just to feel clean.

Beyond the limit of pain, it is longer painful.

Brianna! Is Sam okay?” Astrid cried. “No. Drake tore him up.” She wanted to sound tough, but the sobs came bubbling up and overtook her. “Oh, God, Astrid, he’s hurt so bad.” Astrid gasped and covered her hand with her mouth. Brianna put her arms around Astrid and sobbed into her hair. “Is he going to die?” Astrid asked, voice wobbly. “No, I don’t think so,” Brianna said. She stood back and wiped her tears. “I gave him something for the pain. But he’s messed up, Astrid.

Brute force will sometimes get you through a challenge, but usually not without hurting and depleting yourself in the process.

But I hope you don’t feel the hurt as much as I did. You are too weak and fragile to stand that ache. Remember, you always will be.

But darling, I wish that I could tell you all about it. tell you about the battles that I’ve fought alone, the darkness that has swallowed all of me, the moments I had to pretend that I was strong and unbreakable while my heart was aching inside, and I wish I could tell you how many times I’ve been left so empty because I was such a fool to pour all of my heart into another human. Would you stay here with me and listen without having to leave..?

But everyone has some kind of power to hurt people.

But it's more than a scratch it's a slap in the face and a knife in the back, it's a punch in the stomach because you'd rather believe some made up rumor than what you knew to be true. So tell me Jessica, did you drag yourself to my funeral? And what about you-the rest of you- did you drag yourself to my funeral, and if you did, did you see the scars you left? No, probably not because most of them can't been seen with the naked eye.

... but I could also write about love. How a hand can silence thousands of voices and how someone’s smell can make you feel at home even though you’re a million miles away from home and have you ever hurt someone you love? Because you’re angry. Because you’re disappointed and sad and you just really wanted to love and be loved in return but life got in the way and you both said things that should never be said and you’re angry but don’t know how to. Because you still feel this strange love for him, but you’re also fucking angry and you want to hit him, but then hug him because hurting him is hurting yourself, and then hit him again because you’re angry! and so you fall on your knees because you’re hopeless to yourself and your own emotions and that’s love, my friend.

But my hurt doesn't mean you're hurting any less

But remember, dear sister, that the easiest men for us to love are often the same ones who hurt us the most.

But it was not the note that counted so much as the writing of it. Just because it wouldn’t last forever out there didn’t mean it hadn’t existed. that’s why I was there. I was there for a moment. And because of a string of beautiful moments spent at that very same place, moments I would keep inside me wherever I went.

But my walls were so high for a coward to climb …

But that's life, I suppose. You're born good, and over time it gets drilled out of you. Doesn't matter how much good you do in the world, you'll always end up hurt by others, and eventually it all becomes too much to take.

But she couldn't start this, because then it would end. Stories like this always ended. She couldn't take this pleasure, because she would spend the rest of her life missing it, hurting from it.

but sometimes deception is needed not to hurt the ones we care for.

But the thing is that, in the end, we each must decide how comfortable we are with how much we hurt other people

But there is one part of this that hurts. The carefree, normal part. The part of me that was lost when we first moved and that I'll never get back.

Can we just be grateful for beauty & joy, fascination & tolerance, humour & love, nature & grace, and simply release any anger and pains?

By not hurting anyone through one's mind, speech and action, all the vows (vrat) are encompassed in this!

Caution others, only if your cautioning does not hurt them. If it does, then do not caution them.

But when a cut is deep, it’s still just flesh beneath.

Careful what you tell yourself, especially if you're stubborn.

Certainly we struggle as victims of other people’s unkindness. We have been sinned against. But we cannot excuse our sinful responses to others on the grounds of their mistreatment of us. We are responsible for what we do. We are both strugglers and sinners, victims and agents, people who hurt and people who harm.

Charlie tried to focus on what she was saying, but his head felt packed with gauze. Like no one could reach him in here, where it hurt.

Change is inevitable. Progression is a choice. We all move, but are you going to move forward?

Chase.” He cleared his throat and shook his head once. “That girl means everything to me. Which means her baby does, too. I will never do to you what you did to Harper and me. But know this. If you do not take care of them, and cherish them . . . I will not hesitate again to beat the living shit out of you. You get me?” “I got you. I love them, I’ll always take care of them.

Cigarette smoking is injurious to health, After all it's pretty good than peoples.They injurious to Soul

Children are gifts. They are not ours for the breaking. They are ours for the making.

Cos every breath is unbearably painful

Could he be prosecuted for murder? Cause of death: broken heart. Murder weapon: words laced with bullshit.

Complicated things CHALLENGE us most, HURTS us most, and there, we LEARN the most.

Dads. Do you not realize that your child needs to feel your skin on his? Do you not realize the incredible and powerful bond that skin on skin contact with your daughter will give you? Do you not understand the permanent mental connections that are made when you stroke your son’s bare back or rub your daughter’s bare tummy while you tell bedtime stories? And if any idiot says anything about that being inappropriate, you’re gonna get kicked in the face, first by me, and then by every other good dad out there. Touching your child is your duty as a father.

Cripples are not the stuff of romance. Only Lord Byron, dragging his club foot, springs to mind as an exception to the rule, but such a failing in a man is regarded as interesting, even provocative, rather than disfiguring. Women must submit to a more exacting measure.

Cut anyone and everyone out of your life that makes you feel small, hurt, humiliated, stupid, worthless, etc. do it swiftly and violently and without remorse.

Dads. It’s time to tell our kids that we love them. Constantly. It’s time to show our kids that we love them. Constantly. It’s time to take joy in their twenty-thousand daily questions and their inability to do things as quickly as we’d like. It’s time to take joy in their quirks and their ticks. It’s time to take joy in their facial expressions and their mispronounced words. It’s time to take joy in everything that our kids are.

Dads. Do you honestly expect anybody to believe that you can’t find 20 minutes to step away from your computer or turn off the television to play with your child? It has to happen every single day. Do you not understand that children will hinge their entire facet of trust on whether or not their dad plays with them and how involved he is when he plays with them? Do you know the damage you do by not playing with your children every day?

Dads. Do you not realize that a child is what you tell them they are? That people almost always become what they are labeled? Was whatever your child just did really the “dumbest thing you’ve ever seen somebody do”? Was it really the “most ridiculous thing they ever could have done”? Do you really believe that your child is an idiot? Because she now does. Think about that. Because you said it, she now believes it. Bravo.

Dads. Do your faces light up when you first see your child in the morning or when you come home from work? Do you not understand that a child’s entire sense of value can revolve around what they see in your face when you first see them?

Daniel in the den; a champion in the den