M. Scott Peck Quotes

We're like everybody else. We hurt like everybody.

We are all broken by something. We have all hurt someone and have been hurt. We all share the condition of brokenness even if our brokenness is not equivalent.

We are all substantially flawed, wounded, angry, hurt, here on Earth. But this human condition, so painful to us, and in someways shameful- because we feel we are weak when the reality of ourselves is exposed- is made much more bearable when it is shared, face to face, in words that have expressive human eyes behind them.

She's lonely and wounded and very vulnerable and it really is a story about people at the heart of it all.

The pain of powerlessness is excruciating. It is the most painful experience in the earth school, and everyone shares it.

We're all quite vulnerable human beings really.

We live in bodies that are fearfully and wonderfully made, yet they are not immune to illness and pain. We have hearts that are capable of experiencing great love, but sometimes they get broken.

A knife, it felt like a knife, and I'd discovered that despite everything that's happened, I still had an endless untapped potential for getting hurt.

But once in a while . . . I don't know. I feel so close, Rose. So close to the edge. Like if I allow myself one small misstep, I'll plunge away and never come back. It's like I'll lose myself.

Are you hurting anywhere else?" I asked, feeling so emotionally raw after the long night we'd had. He caught my wrist and pulled my hand down to press flat over his heart. "Here." "So am I." He kissed my fingertips, then linked our hands and led me.

But you know it's hard to tell When you're in the spell if it's wrong or if it's real But you're bound to lose If you let the blues get you scared to feel

Talk to me about sadness. I talk about it too much in my own head but I never mind others talking about it either; I occasionally feel like I tremendously need others to talk about it as well.

What a vast fraternity it is,--that of 'Hearts that Ache.' For the last three months it has seemed to me as though all society were coming to me, to drop its mask for a moment and initiate me into the mystery. How we do suffer! And we go on laughing; for, as a practical joke at our expense, life is a success.

The most intimate feeling people can share is neither love nor hate, but pain.

Without your wounds where would your power be? It is your melancholy that makes your low voice tremble into the hearts of men and women. The very angels themselves cannot persuade the wretched and blundering children on earth as can one human being broken on the wheels of living. In Love’s service, only wounded soldiers can serve. Physician, draw back.

Just like ice, lives crack, too. Personalities. Identities.

Because we are all poets or babies in the middle of the night, struggling with being.

To each his suff'rings: all are men, / Condemn'd alike to groan, / The tender for another's pain; / Th' unfeeling for his own.

We're all gonna lie, we're all gonna cry, and we're all gonna take painful shits.

I have given my all Funny how you could always make me feel small

I hurt easy, I just don't show it. You can hurt someone and not even know it.

Humans are vulnerable, because they’re capable of being hurt.

Strange how complicated we can make things just to avoid showing what we feel!

We can all of us be hurt, and no one is exclusively safe from worry and sadness.

I feel more helpless with you than without you.