Rumors said that if he got drunk enough, he sometimes got his jollies by stripping naked and scaring hikers out in the Broken into thinking he was Bigfoot.
Today I know this: when it comes time to take stock, the most painful wound is that of broken friendships; and there is nothing more foolish than to sacrifice a friendship to politics.
[...] the success of Egyptian surgery in setting broken bones is very fully demonstrated in the large number of well-joined fractures found in the ancient skeletons.
I had been fortified by trauma, the way a bone, once broken, grows back stronger than it had been.
It's like she has her heart in her hand and it's broken. She's holding it out and showing me all the little pieces. Or maybe it's my heart.
Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal.
As she climbed a ladder and started boarding up the smashed front windows, Helen realized that some things stay a little bit broken forever—even after they’ve been fixed.
But I despised men who accepted their fate. I shaped mine twenty times and had it broken twenty times in my hands.
When you get your heart broken, other people can help you pick the pieces up, but only you can glue the pieces back together.
We laughed the way that only people who carry each other back from Hell can laugh when they finally get a hunger for the future once again.
A city isn’t so unlike a person. They both have the marks to show they have many stories to tell. They see many faces. They tear things down and make new again.
You know," I said to Michael, "my girlfriend took him down with a broken tree branch." "Too bad she isn't here," he said.
Choosing to be an artist . . . is choosing to mine deep caverns. It's like getting lost in the darkness and spending the rest of your life trying to find your way.
The human heart has a way of making itself large again even after it's been broken into a million pieces.
Vampires are fond of their games. But the games that They play are different than the variants that I'm familiar with. The rules were made to be bent, broken, shattered—and somebody always gets hurt. Always.
Are we safe from human exposure? I don't want the owners to find a busted-up angel and a buzzed vampire lurking in their shed and freak out.
The sudden, painful flare of envy caught me by surprise. I was a loner, my last few years in school. I could have done with a friend like that.
I don't do that kind of negativity. If you put your energy into thinking about how much the fall would hurt, you're already halfway down.
Men like him, the kind of guys who left the womb fighting? They didn’t get fairy-tale endings. They burned bright until they burned out—and he was burning out.
This mix of love and hate, this blend of trust and hurt I have for him is so confusing even I can't understand it. He leaves, and I break.
The bitterest of ironies is that the people who make us feel the most accepted, secure, and whole are the same people who make us feel the most rejected, unstable, and heart broken.
