Manny Pacquiao Quotes

My parents had this relationship that was really terrifying. I mean, the level of hatred that they had, and the level of physical abuse - my mother would beat up my father, basically - and I think I was drawn to images on television that were bright and reflective.

I don't want to sound like a whiner here, but if you get beat up all the time, it affects you.

Memories are dangerous things. You turn them over and over, until you know every touch and corner, but still you'll find an edge to cut you.

You slammed my face down on the barbecue grill, now my scars are all healing, but my heart never will.

I keep wondering how to explain the experience of child abuse from the inside. I'm going to try to explain what my world was like when I was sexually abused. The thing you have to remember is that this was the thinking of a child.

I punched my mother out once.

She just kept hitting me in the head with her fists, over, and over and over.

The things we remember best are those better forgotten.

I've had just about everything punched. I've had things grabbed that just shouldn't be grapped.

Yeah, she was hitting me hard. She was drunk and she was hitting me hard.

It'd be really nice to sit down with all the people who have hurt me and tell them all the reasons that they've affected me.

Any man can take a sucker punch, but if you get slapped, it's other repercussions to that.

I was assaulted twice by Aisleyne Horgan Wallace and Janice Dickinson.

To be honest, I don't remember what happened in '95, '96 and '97. It was hard years. My memory is deleting.

I don't want to get punched all my life.

When people repeatedly hit me, I would feel a sense of unfairness.

I left the clinic in a daze that had nothing to do with my head injury. Clear up in a week or so? How could Dr. Olendzki speak so lightly about this? I was going to look like a mutant for Christmas and most of the ski trip. I had a black eye. A freaking black eye. And my mother had given it to me.

The inability to forget is far more devastating than the inability to remember.

My mother moves so fast I do not even see it coming. But she slaps my face hard enough to make my head snap backward. She leaves a print that stains me long after it’s faded. Just so you know: shame is five-fingered.

Forgetting’s not something you do, it happens to you. Only it didn’t happen to me.

The music left only this bad hurt in her, and a blankness. She could not remember any of the symphony, not even the last few notes. She tried to remember, but no sound at all came to her. Now that it was over there was only her heart like a rabbit and this terrible hurt.

The difference between coarse and refined abuse is the difference between being bruised by a club and wounded by a poisoned arrow.

The little boy leaned against his father's chest and slowly nodded. "Yes," he said. "I heard all of the names, but I don't remember the other two… just the man who hurt Gillian." "That's the name I most want," Brodick said softly. "Who is he, Alec?" "Alec, please," Gillian began. "Tell me, Alec. Who is he?" "Baron," Alec whispered. "His name is Baron.

I'd still thought that everything I thought about that night-the shame, the fear-would fade in time. But that hadn't happened. Instead, the things that I remembered, these little details, seemed to grow stronger, to the point where I could feel their weight in my chest. Nothing, however stuck with me more than the memory of stepping into that dark room and what I found there, and how the light then took that nightmare and made it real.