Hurt Him Quotes

Since Monday, it has been raining buoyant summer rain shot through with sun, but dark at night and full of sound, full of dripping leaves, watery chimings, sleepless scuttlings. Billy Bob is wide-awake, dry-eyed, though everything he does is a little frozen and his tongue is as stiff as a bell tongue. It has not been easy for him, Miss Bobbit's going. Because she'd meant more than that. Than what? Than being thirteen years old and crazy in love. She was the queer things in him, like the pecan tree and liking books and caring enough about people to let them hurt him. She was the things he was afraid to show anyone else. And in the dark the music trickled through the rain: won't there be nights when we will hear it just as though it were really there? And afternoons when the shadows will be all at once confused, and she will pass before us, unfurling across the lawn like a pretty piece of ribbon? ~ Truman Capote

Yes. But ... " She stroked the smooth backs of her claws down his arms. "You'll have to spend eternity making it up to me."
He released her to lever himself above her, cupping the back of her neck. His gaze flickered over her face, then met the eyes of his wife as she smiled up at him. Feeling love for her so strong it hurt him, his voice ragged with it, he rasped, "Milaya, it is done. ~ Kresley Cole

Tony:...but you need something to do about Noah.

Paul: I know, I know. The only problem being that (a) he thinks I'm getting back with my ex-boyfriend, (b) he thinks I'll only hurt him, because (c) I've already hurt him and (d) someone else has already hurt him, which means that I'm hurting him even more. So (e) he doesn't trust me, and in all fairness, (g) every time I see him, I (h) want everything to be right again and I (i) want to kiss him madly. This means that (j) my feelings aren't going away anytime soon, but (k) his feelings don't look likely to budge, either. So either (l) I'm out of luck, (m) I'm out of hope, or (n) there's a way to make it up to him that I'm not thinking of. I could (o) beg, (p) plead, (q) grovel, or (r) give up. But, in order to do that, I would have to sacrifice my (s) pride, (t) reputation, and (u) self-respect, even though (v) I have very little of them left and (w) it probably wouldn't work anyway. As a result, I am (x) lost, (y) clue-free, and (z) wondering if you have any idea whatsoever what I should do. ~ David Levithan

His lips were soft, warm and felt overwhelmingly right against mine. I fell into it, oblivious to anything other than the safety in his touch. One by one, the senses flowed from me as he pulled them away and set them free. It must have hurt him. The senses hurt the hell out of me.. ~ Jessica Shirvington

His dithering seemed silly. He was home, and home was Jude. He loved him; he was meant to be with him; he would never hurt him - he trusted himself with that much. ~ Hanya Yanagihara

I'd hurt him. The one thing I never wanted to do but could never seem to escape from doing. ~ Nicole Williams

I can't believe this shit! I'm going to
hurt him Lex! No, I'm going to pay someone to hurt him because he's
too big for me take down alone! ~ Lynda LeeAnne

Hurt him. Hurt him and save him ~ Baz Luhrmann

I want to rip his damn arms off his body Ash. Sawyer, who I'd do anything for. I want to hurt him. If he touches you again in front of me I'm going to crack. I can't take this ~ Abbi Glines

I could never hurt him enough to make his betrayal stop hurting. And it hurts, in every part of my body. ~ Veronica Roth

Man is still a savage to the extent that he has little respect for anything that cannot hurt him. ~ E.W. Howe

The end of his vicious rant ended in a satisfying squawk as Apollo backhanded him. The other man staggered and fell on his arse. "No, don't hurt him!" Lily cried, and Apollo hated to think she cared for this man. "I won't," he assured her in a level tone. He stared at the sputtering rogue for a moment and made up his mind. "But neither will I ... stand by while he ... abuses you." So saying, he picked up the man and tossed him over his shoulder. "Wait here." The man made a sort of moan and Apollo hoped he wouldn't toss his accounts down his back. He'd bathed and changed into a fairly clean shirt before coming to see Lily. Pivoting, he marched toward the dock, the man still over his shoulder. "Caliban!" He ignored her calls. He didn't really care who this ass was - as long as he was nowhere near Lily or Indio. ~ Elizabeth Hoyt

He came amongst his own and his own received him not, and it hurt him then and it has kept on hurting him. The same hunger, the same loneliness, the same having no one to be accepted by and to be loved and wanted by. ~ Mother Teresa

The marquis de Carabas was not a good man, and he knew himself well enough to be perfectly certain that he was not a brave man. He had long since decided that the world, Above or Below, was a place that wished to be deceived, and, to this end, he had named himself from a lie in a fairy tale, and created himself
his clothes, his manner, his carriage
as a grand joke.
There was a dull pain in his wrists and his feet, and he was finding it harder and harder to breathe. There was nothing more to be gained by feigning unconsciousness, and he raised his head, as best he could, and spat a gob of scarlet blood into Mr. Vandemar's face.
It was a brave thing to do, he thought. And a stupid one. Perhaps they would have let him die quietly, if he had not done that. Now, he had no doubt, they would hurt him more.
And perhaps his death would come the quicker for it. ~ Neil Gaiman

You can't hurt him. He's an endangered species!"
"Vampires are not endangered." Van's tone made it clear that it was his life's work to rectify this regrettable situation.
"No, not that," Zack said dismissively. "He's a Victorian!"
"Brainwashed," Van muttered.
"Crazy," Sarah proclaimed.
"Steampunk," I corrected with a sigh. ~ Helen Keeble

Your brother beat him almost to death, Temujin. He held him and kicked him until he cried like a child. He is afraid of you, so he hates you. It would be wrong to hurt him again. It would be like beating a dog after it has loosed it's bladder. The spirit is already broken in him. ~ Conn Iggulden

Sharing his memories felt like handing over a sharp knife. A knife that others might handle carelessly. A knife that could be used to hurt him. ~ Matthew J. Kirby

Don't hurt him. (Geary)
Do you think I came all the way over here to hurt him? If I'd wanted him hurt, I'd have left him to Tweedle Dumb and Dumber. (ZT) ~ Sherrilyn Kenyon

It was a phone call she didn't want to make. She didn't want to hurt him. Whatever words she gave him, it would take being a daddy away from him. ~ Crissi Langwell

It simply did not occur to her that she had hurt him as deeply as she had, because she still thought of herself as an ordinary woman, and him as an extraordinary man. ~ Arundhati Roy

And wasn't that him giving her permission to hurt him? It felt as if he were handing over the reins of his own suicidal impulses. That was how Sadie understood it. Of course, it was how she wanted to understand it, because to her, toying with him and offering him hope every now and then that she might actually find value in him as a human being, before pulling it all out from under him, was pure pleasure. It was everything and more. So there'd been no reason why she'd done what she'd done. There'd just been no reason not to. ~ Stephanie Kuehn

The knowledge that I could hurt him if I needed to-if I wanted to-gave me a heady feeling of power.
It probably wasn't healthy.
Still, if he did something stupid and forced me to drain him, well, I wouldn't cry about it. ~ Kiersten White

He'll be cross if he sees I have been crying. They don't like you to cry. He doesn't cry. I wish to God I could make him cry. I wish I could make him cry and tread the floor and feel his heart heavy and big and festering in him. I wish I could hurt him like hell.
He doesn't wish that about me. I don't think he even knows how he makes me feel. I wish he could know, without my telling him. They don't like you to tell them they've made you cry. They don't like you to tell them you're unhappy because of them. If you do, they think you're possessive and exacting. And then they hate you. They hate you whenever you say anything you really think. You always have to keep playing little games. Oh, I thought we didn't have to; I thought this was so big I could say whatever I meant. I guess you can't, ever. I guess there isn't ever anything big enough for that. ~ Dorothy Parker

How did she die?" Grey finally asks.
"Painfully." I hurl the word, dagger sharp, because I'm angry. And hurt ...
Grey's face crumbles. "Oh God." He presses a hand over his eyes as he doubles over, falling to his knees in the surf.
For a moment I stand over him, watching the way that he's broken. Knowing that I'm broken in the same way. My stomach roils at what I say next - at my capacity for cruelty. At my need to hurt him.
But it's the only way I know to save myself. Truth and revenge, my only lifelines. I let myself slip until I'm kneeling next to him. I place my arms around him. Comforting him.
"There's nothing you could have done." I say the words softly, knowing the aching brutality of them.
Because there was something he could have done to save her. He could have told the truth. ~ Carrie Ryan

Tristran sat at the top of the spire of cloud and wondered why none of the heroes of the penny dreadfuls he used to read so avidly were ever hungry. His stomach rumbled, and his hand hurt him so.

Adventures are all very well in their place, he thought, but there's a lot to be said for regular meals and freedom from pain.

Still, he was alive, and the wind was in his hair, and the cloud was scudding through the sky like a galleon at full sail. Looking out over the world from above, he could never remember feeling so alive as he did at that moment. There was a skyness to the sky and a nowness to the world that he had never seen or felt or realized before.

He understood that he was, in some way, above his problems, just as he was above the world. ~ Neil Gaiman

It would hurt him deeply, wound him forever, if I let him glimpse what little is left of me. That I'm still here, in some forgotten corner, just waiting to be found. I could ruin him in one glance, one echo of the brother he remembers. Or I could free him of me. Make the choice for him. Give my brother one last proof of the love I can no longer feel, even if he knows it. ~ Victoria Aveyard

I used to think that when a child was born, a parent made a promise to stay with him. Or her. But if there's a promise, it can be broken. That first Matthew Trewhella broke his promises. I wonder if he ever forgot them, or did the torn edges of his promises hurt him to the end of his life?

When someone goes away from you suddenly, without warning, that's what it's like. A rip, a torn edge inside you. I have a torn edge in me, and Dad has a torn edge in him. I'm not sure if those edges will still fit together by the time I find him. ~ Helen Dunmore

Oh, he'll help us whether he wants to or not. I told the truth. I would not kill him. The death-curse of a god is an evil thing.
But I can hurt him. And I will.
And besides ...
Have you never wondered, little bird, what it must be like to see the world through the eyes of a god? ~ Neil Gaiman

What are you, my father now?"

"No, but I'm someone who will always love you."

"Always?" I question, because even without jealousy, my relationship with Flynn was bound to hurt him.

"Forever. ~ Shannon Dermott

And Harry remembered his first nightmarish trip into the forest, the first time he had ever encountered the thing that was then Voldemort, and how he had faced him, and how he and Dumbledore had discussed fighting a losing battle not long thereafter. It was important, Dumbledore said, to fight, and fight again, and keep fighting, for only then could evil be kept at bay, though never quite eradicated. . . .

And Harry saw very clearly as he sat there under the hot sun how people who cared about him had stood in front of him one by one, his mother, his father, his godfather, and finally Dumbledore, all determined to protect him; but now that was over. He could not let anybody else stand between him and Voldemort; he must abandon forever the illusion he ought to have lost at the age of one, that the
shelter of a parent's arms meant that nothing could hurt him. There was no waking from his nightmare, no comforting whisper in the dark that he was safe really, that it was all in his imagination; the last and greatest of his protectors had died, and he was more alone than he had ever been before. ~ J.K. Rowling

He'll be so happy. He'll be mental with joy when I tell him. The thought that she might not be his won't even cross his mind. Telling him would be cruel, it would break his heart, and I don't want to hurt him. I've never wanted to hurt him. I can't help the way I am. ~ Paula Hawkins

It was on the tip of my tongue to say something snide, something that would hurt him, but somehow I couldn't. It would be like kicking Bambi in the teeth. ~ Marshall Thornton

It was a strange thing, this feeling of empathy. He'd never experienced it before. He realized that what hurt this woman hurt him as well, that what made her bleed caused a hemorrhage of pain within his soul. ~ Elizabeth Hoyt

Maybe I did hurt him, but I don't think I could have hurt him much. He was one of the best-protected human beings who ever lives. People couldn't get at him because he just wasn't interested in people. ~ Kurt Vonnegut

Frog-faced Lord Slynt sat at the end of the council table wearing a black velvet doublet and a shiny cloth-of-gold cape, nodding with approval every time the king pronounced a sentence. Sansa stared hard at his ugly face, remembering how he had thrown down her father for Ser Ilyn to behead, wishing she could hurt him, wishing that some hero would throw him down and cut off his head. But ~ George R R Martin

It is doubtful whether God can bless a man greatly until He has hurt him deeply. ~ A.W. Tozer

Don't care he reminded himself. Because if he didn't care she couldnt hurt him ~ Anne Osterlund

Stop!" she screamed. "Don't hurt him."
"Back off!" Billy shouted.
She yanked harder on Billy's arm.
"He isn't a vampire anymore, idiot. Look! Do you see that big, yellow thing up in the sky? That's called the sun. It's shining down on him, and he isn't exploding. His fangs are gone. He's as human as we are. Case closed."
Billy stared up at the sky, his jaw slack. "Not possible."
Jack mumbled, "They don't call me Jackpot for nothing."
"What?" Billy blinked at him.
"Private joke. ~ Kasi Blake

But she did not say it. It would hurt him, and if there was anything she knew to be true, it was that a fierce unreasoning desire lived in her to protect him from hurt, to stand between him and disappointment, between him and pain, between him and death, and fight them all back as Boadicea had fought back the advancing Romans. ~ Cassandra Clare

He still loved her - and every moment that he didn't have her hurt him deeply. That was why he'd spent the past nine days with a shadow of her soul, why he'd sought to reset the entire universe to have her back. ~ Lauren Kate

You and your beard and your big leather jacket and your big black car and your huge black boots. Nobody wears this much armor unless it has been hurt by someone who had no reason to hurt him. ~ Joe Hill

Peter's mom told me he was talking about transferring to UNC next year. She wanted me to break up with him before he messed up his life for me."
"Damn! Peter's mom is kind of a bitch!"
"She didn't use those exact words, but that was the gist of it." I take a sip of tea. "I wouldn't want him to transfer for me either…My mom used to say not to go to college with a boyfriend, because you'll lose out on a true freshman experience."
"Well, to be fair, your mom never met Peter Kavinsky. She didn't have all the facts. If she had met him…" Trina lets out a low whistle. "She might've been singing a different tune."
Tears fill my eyes. "Honestly I regret breaking up with him and I wish I could take it all back!"
She tips up my chin. "Then why don't you?"
"I don't think he'll ever forgive me for hurting him like that. He doesn't let people in easily. I think I'm probably dead to him."
Trina tries to hide a smile. "I doubt that. Look, you'll talk to him at the wedding tomorrow. When he sees you in that dress, all will be forgiven."
I sniffle. "I'm sure he's not coming."
"I'm sure he is. You don't plan a man's bachelor party and then not show to the wedding. Not to mention the fact that he's crazy about you."
"But what if I hurt him again?"
She wraps both her hands around her mug of tea and takes a sip. "You can't protect him from being hurt, babe, no matter what you do. Being vulnerable, letting people in, getting hurt…it's all a par ~ Jenny Han

THE MYTHS ABOUT ABUSERS
1. He was abused as a child.
2. His previous partner hurt him.
3. He abuses those he loves the most.
4. He holds in his feelings too much.
5. He has an aggressive personality.
6. He loses control.
7. He is too angry.
8. He is mentally ill.
9. He hates women.
10. He is afraid of intimacy and abandonment.
11. He has low self-esteem.
12. His boss mistreats him.
13. He has poor skills in communication and conflict resolution.
14. There are as many abusive women as abusive men.
15. His abusiveness is as bad for him as for his partner.
16. He is a victim of racism.
17. He abuses alcohol or drugs. ~ Lundy Bancroft

So long as I remain in Day's life, I will hurt him. Any other alternative is impossible.
Now, he is free. ~ Marie Lu

It is my belief that it is not the fact that he traveled as much as he did during the past few months as much as what he said and how he said it that hurt him. ~ Robert Teeter

It's a physical sickness. Etienne. How much I love him.
I love Etienne.
I love it when he cocks an eyebrow whenever I say something he finds clever or amusing. I love listening to his boots clomp across my bedroom ceiling. I love that the accent over his first name is called an acute accent, and that he has a cute accent.
I love that.
I love sitting beside him in physics. Brushing against him during lands. His messy handwriting on our worksheets. I love handing him his backpack when class is over,because then my fingers smell like him for the next ten minutes. And when Amanda says something lame, and he seeks me out to exchange an eye roll-I love that,too. I love his boyish laugh and his wrinkled shirts and his ridiculous knitted hat. I love his large brown eyes,and the way he bites his nails,and I love his hair so much I could die.
There's only one thing I don't love about him. Her.
If I didn't like Ellie before,it's nothing compared to how I feel now. It doesn't matter that I can count how many times we've met on one hand. It's that first image, that's what I can't shake. Under the streeplamp. Her fingers in his hair. Anytime I'm alone, my mind wanders back to that night. I take it further. She touches his chest. I take it further.His bedroom.He slips off her dress,their lips lock, their bodies press,and-oh my God-my temperature rises,and my stomach is sick.
I fantasize about their breakup. How he could hurt her,and she could hurt him,and ~ Stephanie Perkins

Where is all that marvelous respect a man as powerful as myself deserves?"
His thumb stroked across her full lower lip, a sensuous caress. Raven closed her eyes against the inevitable. She wanted to cry. Her feelings for him were so strong, her throat was aching and burning.
Mikhail brushed her eyes with his lips, tasted a tear, sought refuge in the sweetness of her mouth. "Why would you cry for me, Raven?" he murmured against her throat. "Is it that you still want to run from me? Am I really so terrible? I would never allow any living creature, man or beast, to harm you, not if it was in my power to prevent it. I thought our hearts and minds were in the same place. Am I wrong? Is it that you no longer want me?"
His words tore at her heart. "It isn't that, Mikhail, never that, I'm just so confused at all of this," she said quickly, afraid she had hurt him. She caressed his face with her fingertips, reverence in her touch. "You are the most fascinating man I've ever known. I feel as if I belong here with you, as though I know you completely. It's impossible in the short time we've been together. I know if I could put some distance between us, I could think more clearly. Everything happened so fast. It's as though I'm obsessed with you. I don't want to make a mistake that will cause both of us pain."
His hand framed her cheek. "It would cause me great pain if you were to desert me, to leave me alone again after I have found you."
"I just want some time ~ Christine Feehan

Anyway, Arianna and I left the castle very late one evening. I knew the knight on guard at the drawbridge so I hit hit him over the head because I didn't want to hurt him.
Garion blinked.
"I knew he'd be honor-bound to try to stop us," Lelldorin explained. "I didn't want to have to kill him, so I hit him over the head."
"I suppose that makes sense," Garion said dubiously.
"Arianna's almost positive he won't die."
"DIE?"
"I hit him just a little too hard, I think. ~ David Eddings

The man loves you with everything he has, everything he is. Eve, that means you can hurt him. ~ J.D. Robb

What did she say?" Lauren breathed.
"She told me to check the oil," Nick replied imperturbably.
Despite his outward attitude of total indifference, Lauren couldn't believe that as a younger man he'd been so vulnerable. Surely having his own mother treat him as if he didn't exist must have hurt him terribly. "Is that all she said?" she asked tightly.
Unaware that Lauren was not sharing his ironic humor in the story,he said, "No-I think she asked me to check the air in her tires too."
Lauren had kept her voice neutral, but inwardly she felt ill. Tears stung her eyes, and she turned her face up to the purpling sky to hide them,pretending to watch the lacy clouds drifting over the moon.
"Lauren?" His voice sounded curt.
"Hmmmm?" she asked,staring steadfastly at the moon.
Leaning forward,he caught her chin and turned her face toward his. He looked at her brimming eyes in stunned disbelief. "You're crying!" he said incredulously.
Lauren waved a dismissing hand at him. "Don't pay any attention to that-I cry at movies too. ~ Judith McNaught

They're not worthy to rule. None of them. I will go and get the Half-Breed and prove to you just how untrustworthy they are. All of them know about her. Every last one. I challenge Prince Galen to deny it."
Galen locks eyes with Toraf. How could he do this to me? How could he do this to Emma? Now everyone present knows of her existence. She won't be safe anywhere, not with Jagen in control. Especially because Toraf, the best Tracker in Syrena history, has just vowed to find her and bring her here.
Which will be excessively easy, since he knows exactly where she is. She trusts him. Rachel trusts him. It will be so simple for him. And I have no way of warning her, of getting to her. All I can do is protect her when she gets here.
Tandel quiets the crowd, one of his primary duties as of late. When he has achieved control, he turns to Galen. "Your Highness, would you like to address these accusations against you?"
Galen swims to the center stone without taking his eyes off Toraf. "If something happens to her because of you," he whispers to his one-time friend, his voice raw with hurt, "your death will be my priority."
Toraf opens his mouth to say something, but Galen cuts him off to address the crowd. There is nothing Toraf can say to him that will make this right. There is nothing Toraf can say to him that will hurt him more. "I have nothing at all to say to these accusations."
Tandel sighs. "Very well, Highness. Thank you."
Galen swims to the ~ Anna Banks

Emyr stared up at me, and I could clearly see he desperately yearned to take me at my word. His eyes were slightly wet, and I had to turn away before he saw the effect he had on me.
I wanted to see tears roll down those smooth cheeks.
I wanted to see that high forehead creased with pain, with pleasure.
I wanted to coax sighs and moans from between those soft-looking lips.
I wanted to make him laugh so hard his sides ached.
I wanted to kiss him and tell him everything would be all right.
I wanted to put him over my knee and spank him until he sobbed and begged me to stop.
I wanted to pamper and protect him and give him anything he wanted.
I wanted to see bruises and welts on that pale skin.
I wanted to hurt him… And I wanted to heal him ~ Bey Deckard

I had called Brooke 'it'. That was stupid. That was ... horrifying. I was better than that ...
... Calling human beings 'it' was a common trait of a serial killer - they didn't think of other people as human, only as objects, because that made them easier to torture and kill. It was hard to hurt 'him' or 'her', but easy to hurt 'it'. 'It' didn't have any feelings. 'It' didn't have any rights. 'It' was just a thing, and you could do whatever you wanted with it. ~ Dan Wells

Look, wolf boy, he's gone. He came by, borrowed money," she snorted, "took money - it's not like I'll ever see it again - and headed out. Told me that the Pack was looking for him, wanting to kill him.
Even if I knew where he ran to, which I
don't, I certainly wouldn't tell someone out to hurt him. ~ Lauren Dane

And Harry saw very clearly as he sat there under the hot sun how people who cared about him had stood in front of him one by one, his mother, his father, his godfather, and finally Dumbledore, all determined to protect him; but now that was over. He could not let anybody else stand between him and Voldemort; he must abandon forever the illusion he ought to have lost at the age of one, that the shelter of a parent's arms meant that nothing could hurt him. There was no waking from this nightmare, no comforting whisper in the dark that he was safe really, that it was all in his imagination; the last and greatest of his protectors had died, and he was more alone than he had ever been. ~ J.K. Rowling

These days I have to ask myself: What made me angrier? That Oscar, the fat loser, quit, or that Oscar, the fat loser, defied me? And I wonder: What hurt him more? That I was never really his friend, or that I pretended to be? ~ Junot Diaz

He'd never shaken angry fists at the Savior his mother had taught him to respect. But God had never hurt him before. Not like this. ~ Willowy Whisper

So why must it wound him that the most despairing music is full of beauty? Why must it hurt him and make him cynical and sad and untrusting? ~ Anne Rice

What the author of Genesis wants to tell us, I think, is that man, when united with God, is not divided. In this unity, there is no good and evil. All of our inclinations, even the sexual ones, are good when we are in Eden
that is, when we walk with God and all our actions, words, and thoughts seek to follow His will. But man can choose to be separate from God, and in this separateness he creates evil by imagining ways to use what is good in ways that hurt him or others, and then acting upon what he imagines. ~ Francisco X Stork

I wiped the blade against my jeans and walked into the bar. It was mid-afternoon, very
hot and still. The bar was deserted. I ordered a whisky. The barman looked at the blood
and asked:
'God?'
'Yeah.'
'S'pose it's time someone finished that hypocritical little punk, always bragging about
his old man's power…'
He smiled crookedly, insinuatingly, a slight nausea shuddered through me. I replied
weakly:
'It was kind of sick, he didn't fight back or anything, just kept trying to touch me and
shit, like one of those dogs that try to fuck your leg. Something in me snapped, the
whingeing had ground me down too low. I really hated that sanctimonious little creep.'
'So you snuffed him?'
'Yeah, I've killed him, knifed the life out of him, once I started I got frenzied, it was
an ecstasy, I never knew I could hate so much.'
I felt very calm, slightly light-headed. The whisky tasted good, vaporizing in my
throat. We were silent for a few moments. The barman looked at me levelly, the edge of
his eyes twitching slightly with anxiety:
There'll be trouble though, don'tcha think?'
'I don't give a shit, the threats are all used up, I just don't give a shit.'
'You know what they say about his old man? Ruthless bastard they say. Cruel…'
'I just hope I've hurt him, if he even exists.'
'Woulden wanna cross him merself,' he muttered.
I wanted to say 'yeah, well that's where we differ', ~ Nick Land

Well, ma'am, as I said, I found Willow lying ill down on the riverbank."
"What was she doing there?"
Rider swallowed. "Ah,well, she, ah, was kind of taking a bath."
"A bath!" The landlady looked like she was going to be sick.
They now had Bartel's full attention. A grin wrinkled the corner of this mouth.
"Oh,she was all done,of course," Rider rushed to explain. "Dressed,too," he lied. "Poor girl said she had a severe headache."
Rider was sweating bullets. He'd rather face the whole Clanton gang than his formidable landlady. She had the uncanny ability to make him feel like a ten-year-old boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar. And it didn't take much to figure out what her reaction would be to his "headache treatment." Since there were definitely no benefits to be won for total honesty, he reasoned that what she didn't know woulnd't hurt him. ~ Charlotte McPherren

Something terrible was clawing up her throat.
"I was lucky," Arin said. "I had you. And a hard head. And the grace of my god."
"Damn>/i> your god."
Arin caught her arm above the elbow. She turned to face him. All trace of humor had left his face. His eyes were wide, urgent. "Don't say that."
"Why not? I can say anything. Anything except what really matters."
"Kestrel, take it back. You'll offend him."
"Your god risks you."
"He protects me."
"You're his plaything."
"You're wrong. He loves me."
Saying those words made him look so alone. He reminded her of sails curved by the wind, full and yet empty at the same time. She found that she was jealous of his god. The sudden jealousy held her so hard in its grip that she couldn't breathe.
"It's true," Arin insisted.
She saw then that she had hurt him, that his god's love was all the more precious to him because of his fear that he would find it nowhere else. Her anger rinsed away. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I ask your pardon. His, too. ~ Marie Rutkoski

She'd fucked him over hardcore. She'd betrayed him and she'd lied to him, and she knew that as far as he was concerned she'd led him on and used him as well, had consorted with people who wanted to see him dead and given them information to help them make him so. Most of all, she'd hurt him. And if the pain in her chest was anything close to what he'd felt, she was more than willing to admit he deserved to get his own back. Was willing to do more than admit it; was willing to take it, in the hopes he'd eventually decide she'd been punished enough and they could maybe move on. ~ Stacia Kane

I finally learned that doing what I want isn't love. I don't want to hurt him again by acting childish. ~ Na Hae Ryeong

Clare," said a voice behind me. Not Nate's, but just as familiar.
"I'll get going," Nate said, backing up. "If you see the dumbass, tell him I'm mad at him for standing me up."
I turned around.
"The dumbass?" Justin asked.
"Yes, you're not the only one in town. Who knew?"
He smiled. Every time I tried to hurt him, he just smiled. I'd have to try harder.
"You look beautiful tonight," he said, looking me up and down. "You wore that dress on the picnic we took in the spring. Remember, it was the first warm day of the season . . ." His voice trailed off.
"I'd love to wax nostalgic, Justin, but I've got work to do. ~ Kim Harrington

Once upon a time there was a man with no heart. Drifting through black-and-white life, caring naught for those hurt, and never, ever allowing another near enough to hurt him. Until, on the least likely day, the most unlikely place, the man with no heart met the most surprising person. He was fearless. He was strength and power. He wore his heart boldly on his sleeve. The man with no heart began, shockingly, to feel a movement in his breast. A stretching, a slow, steady beat ... ~ Shannon Noelle Long

He was a failure, he repeated. Well, look then, feel then. Flashing her needles, glancing round about her, out of the window, into the room, at James himself, she assured him, beyond a shadow of a doubt, by her laugh, her poise, her competence (as a nurse carrying a light across a dark room assures a fractious child), that it was real; the house was full; the garden blowing. If he put implicit faith in her, nothing should hurt him; however deep he buried himself or climed high, not for a second should he find himself without her. So boasting of her capacity to surround and protect, there was scarcely a shell of herself left for her to know herself by; all was so lavished and spent; and James, as he stood stiff between her knees, felt her rise in a rosy-flowered fruit tree laid with leaves and dancing boughs into which the beak of brass, the arid scimitar of his father, the egotistical man, plunged and smote, demanding sympathy. ~ Virginia Woolf

But why did he remember only the things in life that had hurt him? Why couldn't he remember the things that had given him joy or caused him to smile: the jokes he had heard, the songs that had made him lift his arms in the air, the people who had loved him, whose cheeks he had touched with his fingers? ~ Kevin Brockmeier

Of course I tensed up when he touched me. To be with him was to hurt him-inevitably. And that's what I'd felt as he reached for me: I'd felt as though I were committing an act of violence against him, because I was. ~ John Green

I never knew I had the power to hurt him, only that he possessed the power to hurt me. ~ Ann Aguirre

I walked home holding Tom's hand, not letting it go even as he tottered across a soccer field where there was nothing that could hurt him. ~ Aspen Matis

Do you see that man?" Isabelle asked, pointing at Simon. Apparently she was talking about him. "That's Simon Lewis, and he is my boyfriend. So if any of you think about trying to hurt him because he's a mundie or - may the Angel have mercy on your soul - pursuing him romantically, I will come after you, I will hunt you down, and I will crush you ~ Cassandra Clare

He lit his pipe again, smiling to himself quietly, with that painful smile of his, as though he were enjoying a joke that hurt him. ~ W. Somerset Maugham

Well ... he lets it ruin his life. He gets so obsessed with going after the one thing that hurt him that he loses sight of everything else. He becomes isolated from everyone and everything. Paranoid. He feels like he can't trust anyone around him ever. In the end, he loses everything, even his life. And for what? Total stupidity, if you ask me. ~ Sherrilyn Kenyon

As the savage progresses, he acquires experience and formulates codes of 'right' and 'wrong' from his memories of those courses which have helped or hurt him... Then out of the principle of barter comes the illusion of 'justice' ... ~ H.P. Lovecraft

When someone hurts you, don't hurt him back but hit him with your unconditional love. ~ Debasish Mridha

He let go of the rope one hand at a time and latched onto Lisa's hands. Her fingernails dug into his wrists, but her grip was strong after a summer of lifting girls into the air. It was a tug of war battle between his friends and Shawn's ghost. The wind died down as Shawn gathered all of his energy to pull on Mike. Even though he was terrified of what was happening, Mike knew that Shawn wasn't trying to hurt him. After all these years, he was still trying to find a way out. Shawn wanted to go home too, and he saw the hope of being rescued falling away.
"Shawn! Please! Let me go!" Mike called over the dying wind, "I'll get you help! We'll get you out! Just please! Let me go!"

- Saving Hascal's Horrors ~ Laura Smith

The measure of a man's character may be the manner in which he treats the one who can do him no good, but the measure of his heart is the manner in which he loves the one who has hurt him. He who is unloving in his pain was never really loving in his happiness. ~ James Castleton, MD, Mending Of A Broken Heart

About Bane. Don't hurt him," Raphael said abruptly.
Alec hesitated. "No," he said, his voice softer. "I would never - "
Raphael held up a peremptory hand. "Stop being disgusting, please," he said. "I don't care if you wound his, as the kids say, 'wittle fee-fees.' Dump him like a ton of magic bricks. I wish you would. I just meant, don't kill him."
"I'm not going to kill him," Alec said, appalled.
His blood ran cold at the idea, and colder as he looked down into Raphael's face. The vampire was serious.
"Aren't you?" Raphael asked. "Shadowhunter."
He said the word the same way as the Downworlders of the Shadow Market had, but it sounded different in service of protecting someone Alec would gladly give his life to shield from harm.
It made Alec wonder if the people of the Market were all looking at him and seeing a threat to someone they cared for.
"Stop it, Raphael," said Lily. She gave Alec a brief, surprisingly sympathetic look. "Kid's obviously in love."
"Ugh," said Raphael. "Terrible business. Let's get out of here."
Elliott cheered. "Can we go to the after-party?"
"No," Raphael said with distaste. He left Alec and walked away without a look back. After a quick last glance, Lily and then Elliott turned to follow. ~ Cassandra Clare

And now I see what has been there all along, what I've noticed but never truly understood until now.
Eli is as uncertain as I am, as we all are. Life has surprised him like it has me. Has hurt him like it has me. ~ Elizabeth Scott

Fathers were supposed to be invulnerable - but that attitude was childish, he now saw. Irritatingly, he might have to change his outlook. He could no longer be merely indignant and resentful. He was not the only sufferer. Dad had hurt him, but he had hurt Dad as well, and they were both responsible. Feeling responsible was not as comfortable as feeling outraged. ~ Ken Follett

His hand reached up to his chest and rubbed at the area over his heart as if it hurt him. ~ Sylvia Day

Where are you sleeping?"
A wicked black brow rose. "Why? Are you inviting me into your bed?"
The words stung with their rudeness. Penelope stiffened as though she had received a physical blow. She waited a beat, sure he would apologize.
Silence.
"You've changed."
"Perhaps you should remember that the next time you decide to go on a midnight adventure."
He was nothing like the Michael she had once known.
She spun on her heel, heading into the blackness, toward the place where Needham Manor stood. She'd gone only a few feet before she turned back to face him. He had not moved.
"I really was happy to see you." She turned and headed away, back to her home, the cold seeping deep into her bones before she turned back, unable to resist a final barb. Something to hurt him as he'd hurt her. "And Michael?"
She couldn't see his eyes, but she knew undeniably that he was watching her, listening.
"You're on my land. ~ Sarah MacLean

I got this strong feeling of missing him, like he was someone who I loved who had died and gone away, someone who was mostly a memory. I wanted to grab him and say okay, I was sorry about Tommy, it was just a stupid mistake and I knew I'd hurt him and I wish I hadn't. Because I did love him. I did. ~ Sara Zarr

When we sin, we do not infuriate God, our Lover. We only hurt Him. We grieve Him! ~ Calvin Miller

Sadie scooped up a big pile of crap and placed it in the wheelbarrow. Royce turned to leave, but then she said, "You know, when I quit my last job, I told my boss I'd rather shovel horseshit than work for him." ...
Damn, damn, damn. He wanted to stay mad at her
to hold on to how badly the girl had hurt him when she'd left him the way she had. But years had passed, and here she was, thanking him for the opportunity to shovel shit. ~ Cindi Madsen

Let me stay with you, Ash."

Ash couldn't breathe as he understood what she was asking. What she needed. And for the first time in eternity, he was willing to bleed in order to give her life. "Are you sure?"

She nodded.

He brushed his hair aside and tilted his neck for her. Closing his eyes, he braced himself for the pain of her bite. For the hated sensation of her breath on his neck while she fed.

Tory paused as she felt him go rigid. It took her a second to realize why. Ash couldn't stand to have anyone breathe on his neck and yet there he sat, offering himself to her without complaint of comment. In that moment she loved him all the more.

And with her newfound senses, she knew his neck wasn't the only pace she could feed from ...

Ash opened his eyes as she moved away from him. Frowning, he watched as she dipped down and bit into his inner thigh. he sucked his breath in sharply as a wave of desire blinded him and hardened his cock which was only a few inches from her mouth. But greater than that was the shock that she hadn't grabbed his hair and hurt him while she fed from his neck. She was being gentle and considerate, and when she looked up at him, her eyes matched his.

That deep swirling silver that he hated so much was beautiful on her. They were bound together now. His powers. His blood. They were hers too. But even so, he wanted her as she'd been. Kissing her lips, he turned her yes back to th ~ Sherrilyn Kenyon

A little drop of Native American blood was exciting and unique. But a full-blooded Native American…she was horrified."
Cecily's opinion of the legendary Maureen dropped eighty points. She ground her teeth together. She couldn't imagine anyone being ashamed of such a proud heritage.
He looked down at her and laughed despite himself. "I can hear you boiling over. No, you wouldn't be ashamed of me. But you're unique. You help, however you can. You see the poverty around you, and you don't stick your nose up at it. You roll up your sleeves and do what you can to help alleviate it. You've made me ashamed, Cecily."
"Ashamed? But, why?"
"Because you see beauty and hope where I see hopelessness." He rubbed his artificial arm, as if it hurt him. "I've got about half as much as Tate has in foreign banks. I'm going to start using some of it for something besides exotic liquor. One person can make a difference. I didn't know that, until you came along."
She smiled and touched his arm gently. "I'm glad."
"You could marry me," he ventured, looking down at her with a smile. "I'm no bargain, but I'd be good to you. I'd never even drink a beer again."
"You need someone to love you, Colby. I can't."
He grimaced. "I could say the same thing to you. But I could love you, I think, given time."
"You'd never be Tate."
He drew in a long breath. "Life is never simple. It's like a puzzle. Just when we think we've got it solved, pieces of it fly in all ~ Diana Palmer

Furious, the beast writhed and wriggled its iterated integrals beneath the King's polynomial blows, collapsed into an infinite series of indeterminate terms, then got back up by raising itself to the nth power, but the King so belabored it with differentials and partial derivatives that its Fourier coefficients all canceled out (see Riemann's Lemma), and in the ensuing confusion the constructors completely lost sight of both King and beast. So they took a break, stretched their legs, had a swig from the Leyden jug to bolster their strength, then went back to work and tried it again from the beginning, this time unleashing their entire arsenal of tensor matrices and grand canonical ensembles, attacking the problem with such fervor that the very paper began to smoke. The King rushed forward with all his cruel coordinates and mean values, stumbled into a dark forest of roots and logarithms, had to backtrack, then encountered the beast on a field of irrational numbers (F1) and smote it so grievously that it fell two decimal places and lost an epsilon, but the beast slid around an asymptote and hid in an n-dimensional orthogonal phase space, underwent expansion and came out, fuming factorially, and fell upon the King and hurt him passing sore. But the King, nothing daunted, put on his Markov chain mail and all his impervious parameters, took his increment Δk to infinity and dealt the beast a truly Boolean blow, sent it reeling through an x-axis and several brackets - but the beast ~ Stanisław Lem

That man was like a porcupine. Every time he thought something would hurt him, the spikes came out. ~ Candy J. Starr

You generally hear that what a man doesn't know doesn't hurt him, but in business what a man doesn't know does hurt. ~ Gerald Brenan

I am here to determine my relationship."
Simon goggled. She couldn't be talking about him. Could she?
"Do you see that man?" Isabelle asked, pointing at Simon. Apparently she was talking about him. "That's Simon Lewis, and he is my boyfriend. So if any of you think about trying to hurt him because he's a mundie or
may the Angel have mercy on your soul
pursuing him romantically, I will come after you, I will hunt you down and I will crush you to powder. ~ Cassandra Clare

All his life he had managed in such ways to disconnect himself from things which he couldn't escape and which threatened to define him in a way in which he didn't want to be defined, and go on untouched, untouched by things that should have touched him, hurt him, burned him. ~ Earl Lovelace

The God I believe in is not so fragile that you hurt Him by being angry at him, or so petty that He will hold it against you for being upset with Him. ~ Harold S. Kushner

He's not the kind of man you want to be involved with." Sahara made a face at him. "That would be my business." "Sorry, doesn't work like that." Folding his arms, he leaned back against the wall, eyes fully jaguar. "You're family now, little sister." "And look how safe you are," she said, hands on her hips. "I'm sorry, anyone who turns into a predatory cat with big teeth and claws can't exactly throw stones." Vaughn narrowed his eyes at her. "I will hurt him if he puts a single bruise on you." "You won't have to," Sahara said softly. "He'd end himself before causing me harm. ~ Nalini Singh

I wrote a letter to you when I was in the capital. So stupid, to put it all in writing. Every thing I'd done. The information I passed to Tensen. The way I worked against the empire. What I felt. My father read it. He gave it to the emperor." She was weeping. "And I know, I know that it hurt him, that I broke something, that he felt it break. Maybe I wasn't me anymore, to him. Do you understand? Not his daughter. Not anyone he knew. Just a lying stranger. But how could he? Why couldn't he love me most? Or enough. Why couldn't he love me enough to choose me over his rules? ~ Marie Rutkoski

Yes, genuine pain and loss coexisted with the deliverance, but it did not have the last word. Its power to hurt him was weakened because he could see the bigger things God was doing in, for, and through him. You can probably find similar events in your life. Hard things persisted, there was no apparent deliverance, but, with closer inspection, you notice a deliverance that went much deeper. And these are eleventh-hour deliverances on this side of death and eternity. Imagine if you gradually developed the spiritual skill to see beyond the immediate moment and catch a glimpse of the glories to come. The basic outline is clear: if you have thrown your lot in with Jesus, everything he has is yours, even the kingdom itself. It would be impossible to ask for more. Those who imitate Abraham's faith are always pushing the last minute farther out until it comes even after physical death. Such a person is fearless. A ~ Edward T. Welch

Paige lay on the examining table in Doc's clinic and Preacher held her hand in both of his. "I let you down," he was saying, so softly Mel barely heard. "No," she whispered. "No." "Paige, were you afraid I was going to hurt him?" Her eyes shifted away from his face and he brushed a soft hand against the hair at her temples. "Paige, I could've hit him - but I don't lose control. Paige," he said, putting a finger and thumb on her chin, turning her eyes back to his face. "Paige, I don't lose control. Okay?" She nodded weakly. ~ Robyn Carr

What hurt him most of all, made him feel like a sick child aware of terrible wrongness and yet incapable of explaining it to anyone who might help, was that in spite of the evidence around them, in spite of what their eyes and ears reported-and sometimes their flesh, from bruises, stab wounds, racking coughs, weeping sores-these people believed their way of life was the best in the world, and were prepared to export it at the point of a gun. ~ John Brunner

There was another pause, and Gansey realized she'd hung up. He leaned back against the fridge, eyes closed, guilty, comforted, wild, contained. In twenty-four hours, he'd be waiting for this again.
You know better you know better you know better
"What the hell, man?" Ronan said.
Gansey's eyes flew open just as Ronan hit the lights. He stood in the doorway, headphones looped around his neck, Chainsaw hulking like a tender thug on his shoulder. Ronan's eyes found the phone by Gansey's leg, but he didn't ask, and Gansey didn't say anything. Ronan would hear a lie in a second, and the truth wasn't an option. Jealousy had ruined Ronan for the first several months of Adam's introduction into their group; this would hurt him more than that. ~ Maggie Stiefvater