Paranormal romance gives me the opportunity to explore love outside of its traditional boundaries. Common themes are hunger and uncontrollable desires, but I like to push further into wounds that cannot be healed and the way love can still find its w...
I am tired and sick of war. Its glory is all moonshine. It is only those who have neither fired a shot nor heard the shrieks and groans of the wounded who cry aloud for blood, for vengeance, for desolation. War is hell.
[last lines] Bennett Marco: Poor Raymond. Poor friendless, friendless Raymond. He was wearing his medal when he died. [reads from a book of U.S Army citations] Bennett Marco: You should read some of the citations sometime. Just read them. Taken, eigh...
The worst pain ... isn't the pain you feel at the time, it's the pain you feel later on when there's nothing you can do about it, They say that time heals all wounds, But we never live long enough to test that theory ...
My tongue remembers your wounded flavor. The vein in my neck adores you. A sword stands up between my hips, my hidden fleece sends forth its scent of human oil.
How is Eric?' 'Very tightly wound. Plus, a lot of stuff happened that he'll tell you about.' 'Thanks for the warning. I'll go to the house now. You're my favorite breather.' 'Oh. Well ... great.' She hung up.
I feel my griefs too, and there scarce is ground Upon my flesh t'inflict another wound. Yet dare I not complain, or wish for death With holy Paul; lest it be thought the breath Of discontent; or that these prayers be For weariness of life, not love o...
Our task shouldn't be punishing the villains in our lives, but enlarging the God who heals us from all wounds.
Theology isn't what drove them to their...theology." author writes on dealing with the embittering experience of those who protect a wounded place with abstract arguments.
Her eyes take on that suspicious, wounded look girls get when they know they've fallen off the top rung of friendship and someone else has passed them, but they don't know when or how the change took place.
Far from being a pack of baying butchers,critics sometimes have a perverse habit of tending to the sick and wounded on the cinematic field of battle, rushing in where angels fear to tread, even when the patient is clearly without a pulse.
Instead of hating, my heart cries mercy! Mercy on me! Mercy on me! Mercy on me! It calls out to love in an attempt to save myself. I don’t want to be one of those people who live their lives with boils, septic wounds and broken bones bleeding insid...
I am a writer....a master of words.'Like a knife, words should be handled carefully. They can cut deeply, the wound may never heal, and the scar can remain for an eternity.
...unrequited love does not die; it's only beaten down to a secret place where it hides, curled and wounded. For some unfortunates, it turns bitter and mean, and those who come after pay the price for the hurt done by the one who came before.
I would like to thank the people who've brought me those dark moments, when I felt most wounded, betrayed. You have been my greatest teachers.
It is true that going out on to the street implies the risk of accidents happening, as they would to any ordinary man or woman. But if the church stays wrapped up in itself, it will age. And if I had to choose between a wounded church that goes out o...
Words, especially when yelled in anger, can be very damaging to a child's self-confidence. The child probably already feels bad enough just from seeing the consequences of his or her behavior. Our sons and daughters don't need more guilt and self-dou...
There was a big drive when I was at art school to make you aware of the economy of meaning - after all, this was still during the tail end of minimalism. Being responsible for everything you put in your picture, and being able to defend it. Keeping e...
Our dead are never dead to us until we have forgotten them: they can be injured by us, they can be wounded; they know all our penitence, all our aching sense that their place is empty, all the kisses we bestow on the smallest relic of their presence.
For I need this scar over my heart to remind me. Crazy as it sounds, if I can bear the wound on my body, it lessens what I must carry on my soul. How he knew that about me, I cannot fathom.
Neither did she realise yet that grief is a kind of glue, too, that the essence of humanity is this empathy, and that we fall together in that moment of tenderest perception when we see and feel each other's wounds and know another's sorrow like a br...
