A hurtful act is the transference to others of the degradation which we bear in ourselves.
“Do you take pride in your hurt?” Samuel asked. “Does it make you seem large and tragic?” “I don't know.” “Well, think about it. Maybe you're playing a part on a great stage with only yourself as audience.”
But a wound unfelt is a wound unhealed.
There was a hole inside her, and it twisted.
Shattered legs may heal in time, but some betrayals fester and poison the soul.
Until you heal the wounds of your past, you will continue to bleed
...there are only some many times you can utter "It does not hurt" before it begins to hurt even more than the hurt.
I'd been broken beyond repair.
Benedict may not be as hurt as he really is.
...This fear was unbearable. It unwrapped who she was, as neatly as he'd unwound her bandage, leaving too much pain and ugliness exposed. Nerve endings; he'd said they were the problem [causing phantom pain in the amputated limb]." Things that cut off, that ended abruptly or died--like parents and marriages--kept hurting forever.
But there are some wounds that can never be healed.
It's easier to get over a lost body than a lost soul.
I think maybe I know why,' she finally said. 'Why?' 'Maybe all the strings inside him broke,' she said.
There are only so many times that you can utter ‘It does not hurt’ before it begins to hurt even more than the hurt. You become enlightened of the feeling of feeling hurt, which is worse, I am certain, than the existent hurt.
The feel of not to feel it, When there is none to heal it Nor numbed sense to steel it.
[I'll teach you] how not to leave the windows of your heart open when it looks like rain and how everyone has a stump where something necessary was amputated.
At such a moment, it is not the physical pain which hurts the most (and this applies to adults as much as to punished children); it is the mental agony caused by the injustice, the unreasonableness of it all.
The hurt affects your ability to go forward.
Oh, humiliation is poisonous. It's one of the deepest pains of being human.
As victims of hurt, we frequently don't bring up what ails us, because so many wounds look absurd in the light of day.
I wasn't supported, I wasn't given any self-esteem.
A wound will perhaps become tolerable with length of time; but wounds which are raw shudder at the touch of the hands.
We study biology, physics, movements of glaciers... Where are the classes on envy, feeling wronged, despair, bitterness.
I feel like little bits of my soul are being shipped domestically.
When you're a little kid, your heart is open and tender and a harsh word can go straight in and become part of your life.
