Past Wound Quotes

Turn your past wound of misery and sadness into a wonder of life. ~ Debasish Mridha

Salt. Wound. Together at last. ~ Maureen Johnson

I opened a wound in the earth
to tuck you away
and as the soil filled around you
covering the last of my dreams
I asked the roots
and the rocks
and the oceans
and the sea
to collapse around me
so I could lay by your side
one last time. ~ Tyler Kent White

When one woman strikes at the heart of another, she seldom misses, and the wound is invariably fatal. ~ Pierre-Ambroise Choderlos De Laclos

Movement from Brenda grabbed Thomas's attention. He looked to see her drop the knife away from Minho and step back, absently wiping the small trace of blood there on her pants. "I really would've killed you, ya know," she said in a slightly scratchy voice. Almost husky. "Charge Jorge again and I'll sever an artery."
Minho wiped at his small wound with his thumb, then looked at the bright red smear. "That's one sharp knife. Makes me like you more. ~ James Dashner

She's the princess, Colt!" Addie grabbed his arm. "She's just like we imagined, isn't she?"

Napier hopped down to inspect the wound. "You imagined the princess with a hole in her leg? How sick."

"Get away from her," Colt scoffed. "You're halfway under Tucker's skirts."
"I'm a doctor!"
"No, you're not! ~ Emory Sharplin

I know that I'm dealing with some kind of wound through my music. ~ Lykke Li

Mothers smell blood before the wound is given. We see the rent place on the child's arm before the arrow strikes. ~ Kaye Gibbons

What magnetic force draws us to scenes of pain, and words that wound us? You have seen this, I told myself as I marched along to that apartment. You have seen this already, you've lived through this, spare yourself ~ Andrew Sean Greer

With women, it's about the slow soak, babe. Assholes pour shit on the surface and women keep goin' not even knowin' that shit is soakin' in. Then one day, out of fuckin' nowhere, that acid has burned deep in a way it leaves a wound that will never heal. Wipe that shit away, Lanie. Don't let it soak in. He doesn't know me. He cannot make that call about me. ~ Kristen Ashley

As all clocks need winding, so all human brains and bodies need to be wound up by sleeping. ~ Julia McNair Wright

A broom that was almost never used was leaned up against the wall. He took it and started to sweep. Dust flew up his nose. When he had been sweeping for a while he realised he had no dustpan. He swept the pile of dust under the couch. Better to have a little shit in the corners than a clean hell. He flipped through the pages of a porno, put it back. Wound his scarf around his neck until his head felt like it was about to explode, released it. Got up and took a few steps on the rug. Sank to his knees, prayed to god. ~ John Ajvide Lindqvist

Time would heal the wound that was Frank; the world would continue to spin, to wobble, its axis only slightly skewed, momentarily displaced, by the brief, shuddering existence of one man -one THING - a post-human mutant, a blurred Xerox copy of a human being, the offspring of the waste of technology, the bent shadow of a fallen angel; Frank was all of these things. . . he was the sum of everything dark and sticky, the congealment of all things wrong and dark and foul in this world and every other seedy rathole world in every back-alley universe throughout the vast garbage dump of creation; God rolled the dice and Frank lost. . . he was a spiritual flunkie, a universal pain-in-the-ass, a joy-riding, soul-sucking cosmic punk rolling through time and space and piling up a karmic debt of such immense magnitude so as to invariably glue the particular vehicle of the immediate moment to the basement of possibility - planet earth - and force Frank to RE-ENLIST, endlessly, to return, over and over, to a flawed world somewhere to spend the Warhol-film-loop nights of eternity serving concurrent life sentences roaming the dimly lit hallways of always, stuck in the dense overshoes of physicality, forever, until finally - one would hope there is always a FINALLY - eventually, anyway - God would step in and say ENOUGH ALREADY and grab Frank by the collar of one of his thrift-shop polyester flower-print shirts and hurl him out the back door of the cosmos, expelling the rotten orb into the gr ~ George Mangels

Now, I appeal to the consciences of those who persecute, wound, torture, and kill other men on the excuse of 'religion', whether they do this in a spirit of friendship and kindness. ~ John Locke

I tried to say something cool, wound up stammering something like, "WANNA YOU WANNA WEENIE ME?" The end kind of trailed off in a shrill, choking warble. ~ David Wong

Youth is a mortal wound. ~ Katherine Paterson

It harms a man more to wound his heart than to hurt his body. ~ Yoshida Kenko

I happened to fall into a job that wound up being a seminal piece of television history, which was a show I did on HBO called 'The Wire.' That experience really set the bar for me and opened a lot of doors. It also gave me a lot of street cred in terms of my phone ringing and job offers. ~ Deirdre Lovejoy

"I ... I still - "
"Can't believe it?" Rafe shrugged. "I'm guessing a regular person wouldn't have survived. But we're part cat so maybe falls aren't so bad. I think I lost one of my nine lives though." He twisted to look at the stab wound. "Maybe two."
I threw my arms around his neck and kissed him, and when I did, I knew he was real - the heat of him, the smell of him, the feel of him, the taste of him so incredibly real that it surpassed anything my memory could conjure up. He wrapped his arms around me and kissed me back, and it was like every other amazing kiss he'd given me, multiplied ten-fold. I kissed him until I couldn't breathe, and then I kissed him a little more, until I had to pull back, gasping.
"I have got to die more often," he said. And he grinned, that incredible blaze of a grin that made me kiss him again. ~ Kelley Armstrong

But there was only one kiss that made me feel something stir deep inside. Only one that made me want more. But my head wound started bleeding and he made me lie down. ~ Suzanne Collins

I don't know how to speak anymore. And with whom?

I never found a soulmate. No one was a dream. They left me with open dreams, with my central wound wide open, with my heart torn. I mourn myself; this is my right. And yet I look down on those who take no interest in me. My only desire has been.

I will not say it. Even I, or especially I, betray myself. Like a nursing boy, my soul has been soothed. I don't know how to speak anymore. I can't speak anymore. I have taken apart, what they never gave me, which was all I had. And it is death again. It closes in on me, it is my only horizon. No one resembles my dream. I have felt love and they mistreated it, yes, me, I who never loved. The deepest love will disappear forever. What can we love that isn't a shadow? The sacred dreams of childhood have already died, and with them, those of nature, which loved me. ~ Alejandra Pizarnik

One cannot do such harm to another and not wound one's own soul in the process. ~ Sophie Hannah

Going over to their prisoner, Vishous performed a visual assessment on Xcor. When they'd brought the bastard in here, V had strapped him onto the wooden slab table face-up and spread-eagled, locking stainless-steel cuffs on those wrists and ankles and around that thick neck - and what do you know, the guy was right where he'd left him. Color was passable. Eyes were closed. Head wound at the rear of the skull was no longer leaking, having healed already. ~ J.R. Ward

. . .biographers tend to regard as character those elements of personality that remain constant, or nearly so, throughout. . .Like practitioners of fractal geometry, biographers seek patterns that persist as one moves from micro- to macro-levels of analysis, and back again.
. . .
It follows from this that the scale across which we seek similarity need not be chronological. Consider the following incidents in the life of Stalin between 1929 and 1940, arranged not by dates but in terms of ascending horror. Start with the parrot he kept in a cage in his Kremlin apartment. The dictator had the habit of pacing up and down for long periods of time, smoking his pipe, brooding, and occasionally spitting on the floor. One day the parrot tried to mimic Stalin's spitting. He immediately reached into the cage with his pipe and crushed the parrot's head. A very micro-level event, you might well say, so what?

But then you learn that Stalin, while on vacation in the Crimea, was once kept awake by a barking dog. It turned out to be a seeing-eye dog that belonged to a blind peasant. The dog wound up being shot, and the peasant wound up in the Gulag. And then you learn that Stalin drove his independently minded second wife, who tried to talk back to him, into committing suicide. And that he arranged for Trotsky, who also talked back, to be assassinated halfway around the world. And that he arranged as well the deaths of as many of Trotsky's associates that he could reach, ~ John Lewis Gaddis

Earl rarely used the word, but his whole system of teaching and his whole way of living was built around the concept of honor. You honored God by using your time wisely, and you honored your fellow man by treating him with respect. You honored your teacher by calling him "sir," and he honored his students by challenging them to face pain and become stronger. Earl had come to associate charity with pain, and he believed that love did its deepest work when applied to a wound. ~ Eric Greitens

And then I cried a flood of tears as if I really were a mermaid who had absorbed too much sea into herself. The tears spilled like a balm, like a potion, like a charm. In them swam a little girl whose father was dying without ever having seen her. In them swam a girl whose mother's magic – the only thing the girl envied more than anything else in the world, the thing that had made her invisible, the most precious thing –might be dying too. In them swam a green-haired girl who had never been touched by the boy to whom she was so devoted that she would have lived with him forever in a shack by the sea or a ruined sand castle even if he never made love to her. My tears were for me, but they were also for him. They were to wash away the thing that had frightened him so much so long ago. The wound inside his thigh. My tears poured out of me and he drank them down his throat. He drank them in gulps deep into himself, swallowing sorrow.
Someday," he said, "when we are ready, I will give you back your tears. ~ Francesca Lia Block

This last night we tear into each other, as if to wound, as if to find the key to everything before morning. ~ Michael Ondaatje

Alec raised his eyebrows and looked very confused. "Wait. They don't mean it's okay, and that I don't have to worry about it? Why would they say that if they don't mean it?" Nico shrugged. "I think it's some sort of mind trick. They use that sentence as an illusion that things between you are okay, but when you least expect it, they will strike like a cobra and wound your soul. ~ L.A. Casey

There is dignity in suffering; nobility in pain; but failure is a salted wound, that burns and burns again! ~ Woody Allen

Whoever said that time blunts all pain did not quite understand that bluntness can wound as grievously as sharp points and edges; ~ Neel Mukherjee

As you sell your soul and sow your seeds, and you wound yourself and your loved ones bleed. And your habits grow and your conscience feeds, on all that you thought you should be. ~ Don McLean

She'd hardly known where she was going while the gloriella tore through her; all she'd known was that she had to get someplace safe. And somehow, she had wound up exactly where she knew she'd be safest. ~ Sarah J. Maas

The universe appeared to him like an immense malady; everywhere he felt fever, everywhere he heard the sound of suffering, and, without seeking to solve the enigma, he strove to dress the wound. ~ Victor Hugo

What do you do when you're wound up?' she asked. 'Do you play that drum?'. 'No,' said the child. 'We used to dance.' 'But now we walk,' said the father. 'And behind us an enemy walks faster.' 'That's life,' said Euterpe. ~ Russell Hoban

Iannis: [writing to Corelli] Antonio, I do not know if this letter will reach you, or even if you are alive. Perhaps someone else sent your record, and that is why we found no note. I would like to say that Pelagia is happy, but she is full of tears she will not let fall, and of a grief no doctor can mend. She blames herself for the pain we have suffered, and perhaps the same is true for you. You know I am not a religious man, but I believe this: if there is a wound, we must try to heal it. If there is someone whose pain we can cure, we must search till we find them. If the gods have chosen that we should survive, it will be for a reason. ~ Louis De Bernieres

Laurie thought the task of forgetting his love for Jo would absorb all his powers for years; but, to his surprise, he discovered it grew easier every day. He refused to believe it at first,--got angry with himself, and couldn't understand it; but these hearts of ours are curious and contrary things, and time and nature work their will in spite of us. Laurie's heart wouldn't ache; the wound persisted in healing with a rapidity that astonished him, and, instead of trying to forget, he found himself trying to remember. ~ Louisa May Alcott

It is absurd to think that the only way to tell if a poem is lasting is to wait and see if it lasts. The right reader of a good poem can tell the moment it strikes him that he has taken an immortal wound-that he will never get over it. ~ Robert Frost

It is often thought that medicine is the curative process. It is no such thing; medicine is the surgery of functions, as surgery proper is that of limbs and organs. Neither can do anything but remove obstructions; neither can cure; nature alone cures. Surgery removes the bullet out of the limb, which is an obstruction to cure, but nature heals the wound. So it is with medicine; the function of an organ becomes obstructed; medicine so far as we know, assists nature to remove the obstruction, but does nothing more. And what nursing has to do in either case, is to put the patient in the best condition for nature to act upon him. ~ Florence Nightingale

One service to need heals an ancient wound. ~ Mary Anne Radmacher

If I have left a wound inside you, it is not just your wound but mine as well. ~ Haruki Murakami

Homesickness could be more painful than a bullet wound ~ Tracy Banghart

Sharper than any double-edged sword." A sword with two edges has no blunt side; it cuts both this way and that. The Word of God is edge all over. It is alive in every part, and in every part keen to cut the conscience and wound the heart. Depend on it: not a verse in the Bible is superfluous or a chapter that is useless. ~ Charles Haddon Spurgeon