Those Who Hurt You Quotes

There comes a point when you just love someone. Not because they're good, or bad, or anything really. You just love them. It doesn't mean you'll be together forever. It doesn't mean you won't hurt each other. It just mean you love them. Sometimes in spite of who they are, and sometimes because of who they are. And you know that they love you, sometimes because of who you are, and sometimes in spite of it. ~ Laurell K. Hamilton

Art doesn't owe anything to anyone.
Songs are about how it felt, not the facts. Self-expression is about what it feels to live, no whether you had the right to claim any emotion at any time. Did I have a right to be mad at him? Did he do anything wrong? Who cares! Who cares? I hurt. So I wrote about it ~ Taylor Jenkins Reid

Hurting the person who hurt you won't heal your pain. Let them go. Karma will deal with them you don't have to write the script for the universe. ~ Paula Heller Garland

If you don't have the gift of a loving supportive family, be that gift for someone else. It doesn't have to be a relative, just someone you know who is alone or hurting over the holiday. ~ Joel Osteen

You have to stop letting me do this," he bit off, half-angrily.
"If you'll stop leaning on me so that I can get my hands on a blunt object, I'll be happy to…!"
He kissed the words into oblivion. "It isn't a joke," he murmured into her mouth. His hips moved in a gentle, sensuous sweep against her hips. He felt her shiver.
"That's…new," she said with a strained attempt at humor.
"It isn't," he corrected. "I've just never let you feel it before." He kissed her slowly, savoring the submission of her soft, warm lips. His hands swept under the blouse and up under her breasts in their lacy covering. He was going over the edge. If he did, he was going to take her with him, and it would damage both of them. He had to stop it, now, while he could. "Is this what Colby gets when he comes to see you?" he whispered with deliberate sarcasm.
It worked. She stepped on his foot as hard as she could with her bare instep. It surprised him more than it hurt him, but while he recoiled, she pushed him and tore out of his arms. Her eyes were lividly green through her glasses, her hair in disarray. She glared at him like a female panther.
"What Colby gets is none of your business! You get out of my apartment!" she raged at him.
She was magnificent, he thought, watching her with helpless delight. There wasn't a man alive who could cow her, or bend her to his will. Even her drunken, brutal stepfather hadn't been able to force her to do something she didn't want to do ~ Diana Palmer

I want her, bro. Not only for me, but because I think she has the best chance against these terrorists we're hunting." Tony placed a hand on his brother's shoulder. "She's a vampire, Deryn. And not just any vampire. Weldon Harper calls her Pack and she's a member of the Sacramento Pack, too. Now do you know who I'm talking about?"

Deryn's eyes widened as he stared at his brother. Now he knew why they were out in the middle of the English countryside in the dark. They wouldn't find a vampire awake during the daytime and it would be dangerous to move one anyway, during that time. No wonder he'd seen a body bag in the trunk of the rental Tony was driving.

"Bro, you can't be serious; we can't kidnap a vampire - they'd shred us. And if it's the one dad was telling mom and me about, she'd really shred us." Deryn figured he would have to convince Tony to forget this mission.

"All we need to do is find where she is, just before dawn. Then, when she falls asleep, we'll just take her with us. I don't think she'll hurt us, she's not that way," Tony said, climbing inside the car. ~ Connie Suttle

Often we try to offer God partial obedience. We want to pick and choose the commands we obey. We make a list of the commands we like and obey those while ignoring the ones we think are unreasonable, difficult, expensive, or unpopular. I'll attend church but I won't tithe. I'll read my Bible but won't forgive the person who hurt me. Yet partial obedience is disobedience. ~ Rick Warren

Wait. You don't understand. I just wanted it to stop. Wanted the hurting to stop."
I smoothed a bloodied lock of hair from her eyes and felt very tired as I said, "The only people who never hurt are dead."
The light died out of her eyes, her breath slowing. She whispered, barely audible, "I don't understand."
I answered, "I don't either."
A tear slid from her eye and mixed with the blood.
Then she died. ~ Jim Butcher

I'm a warrior if you try to hurt my family. And anybody I see getting it in the neck out there, I'm right there to protect them. I'm a big, strong guy who knows what he's doing. I've stopped a lot of things in the street, stopped a lot of people from getting hurt. ~ Paul Sorvino

It is difficult for my fellow countrymen who have never lived abroad to understand that until a foreign man is about sixty-five, he still thinks, every so often, that under the right circumstances he'd like to punch an American in the face. Even people like the Chinese, who mostly like us, think of us
at least partly
as loud, fat, poorly dressed, overprivileged, hectoring, naive, arrogant, self-righteous bullies with little knowledge and no interest in any culture other than our own. I once had a conversation with a Japanese journalist who said to me, "You don't seem like an American." When I asked him, slightly hurt, why he said that, he replied, "Because you listen. ~ Matthew Polly

We all hurt other people, especially those we love...civilized people were the ones who had learned to hurt according to rules. ~ James A. Michener

I have heard of managers who encourage players not to slide hard for fear they will get hurt and be lost from the lineup for a time. That is why you occasionally see a player go into second base on a double-play ball and not even bother to slide. I wonder, could Ty Cobb
sit though plays like that and hold his lunch? ~ Frank Robinson

Eyebeam: What do you mean, I have "male answer syndrome"?

Sally: It's the compulsion to provide an answer to any question, even if it means resorting to pure speculation.

Eyebeam: I knew that…

Sally: It's a very widespread phenomenon.

Beth: I wonder what causes it?

Eyebeam: Cause? Well, society has chosen male role models who always exhibit total control… If a male says "I don't know", he's admitting to conversational helplessness and failing to live up to that societal standard…

Sally: Pretty pitiful, huh?

Eyebeam: Damn!

Beth: …And I always thought they learned it all in "shop". ~ Sam Hurt

Deep down, we all want the same things. We all want love and peace and happiness. We all make mistakes. We are all very confused. We all hurt, and we all hurt others. We are all caught up in our stories, forming attachments and tearing away from them. We are all disappointed. You are angry, but could it be true that the person who has hurt you was just the same as you, in a universal sense? They hurt you in search of the things that you seek for yourself. ~ Stephanee Killen

Life. It's your birthday present. Open it up and play with it. Act like you like it. (The One who gave it to you is watching, after all. Don't want to hurt his feelings.) And if you don't like your life, CHANGE IT. It is all yours. ~ Jill Conner Browne

Really, Nan could be very odious when she liked. Yet somehow she [Gay] didn't hate her as before. She felt very indifferent to her. She found herself looking at her with cool, appraising eyes, seeing her as she had never seen her before. An empty, selfish little creature, who had always to be amused like a child. ...A girl who posed as a sophisticate before her country cousins but who was really more provincial than they were, knowing nothing of real life or real love or real emotion of any kind. Gay wondered, as she looked, how she could ever have hated this girl - ever been jealous of her. She was not worth hating. Gay spoke at last. She stood up and looked levelly at Nan. There was contempt in her quiet voice.

"I suppose you came here to hurt me, Nan. You haven't - you can never hurt me again. You've lost the power. I think I even feel a little sorry for you. You've always been a taker, Nan. All through your life you've taken whatever you wanted. But you've never been a giver - you couldn't be because you've nothing to give. Neither love nor truth nor understanding nor kindness nor loyalty. Just taking all the time and giving nothing - oh, it has made you very poor. So poor that nobody need envy you. ~ L.M. Montgomery

Remember who you really are. You cannot be destroyed or hurt. You cannot be harmed or killed. You, the real you, will always be present and powerful. ~ Vironika Tugaleva

Harper?" Cash murmured after a long moment.
"Hmm?" I turned my head.
"Do you believe in Santa?"
I shifted onto my side to look at him, smiling. "Yeah, I do."
He adjusted his head to look at me. "Even though he's something our parents say isn't real?"
I nodded. "Yeah, definitely. There's usually some kind of truth behind stories."
He looked up to the tree then to me. "Think we can see him tonight?"
I laughed and sat up. "Who? Santa? Why not? It couldn't hurt to try. ~ Shaye Evans

I don't feed on humans. It's a choice I made years ago. I'm only weaker physically. The urge is still there. I didn't like who I was. Things I did, people I hurt. The part of you that feels remorse fades, it's easy to give in to. If I don't allow myself to feel remorse, or the pain of hurting somebody else, then I don't deserve to feel anything. ~ L.J.Smith

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

But even now, especially now, it seems to me that women have a strength about them that men never had. And I wonder how did men always get portrayed in the movies and such as the strong ones? How did it come to be that women are made to look like the weak ones who need protectin'? Truth is, it's men who need the protectin'. Really they do. Women have the strong thing inside of them and the can get through anything. They just can. They're used to pain of child birthing - pain no man knows - and some women being battered around and not treated right through all the centuries and having to learn at a real young age how to stay alive on the inside when the outside is being hurt real bad. Most all women know that. But men. Those poor men. They just don't have the inside strength the women do. It's harder for men to feel pain. ~ Sarah Felix Burns

If she has given you children remind yourself every day of the second, third, fourth, fifth, and sixth words in this sentence. If you hurt her in ways that are irreparable I will send out people to hurt you back, sorry, but it has to be like that. Yes, you may have had a difficult childhood, but please allow me to introduce myself: Hello, I am the woman who doesn't give a shit. Make her something warm to drink in the mornings and give her time to begin speaking; only rush at her with an embrace or a gemstone. Wildflowers. A love note. Yeats. ~ Mary-Louise Parker

Take risks, fall, get hurt and then take more risks. Stay away from those who affirm truths, who criticise those who do not think like them, people who have never once taken a step unless they were sure they would be respected ~ Paulo Coelho

I don't appreciate the disrespect, because I've been playing hurt for a guy who won't respect you. I don't deserve it ... It's time for me to move on. ~ Melvin Mora

Hurt my fluffy bunny, will you? The following moments were a red-tinged blur as he took care of the humans who dared hurt his Miranda. The idiot with the flamethrower screamed the loudest when Chase yanked off his arm and beat him with it. When that stopped being fun, he tore out his throat. ~ Eve Langlais

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. ~ Elle Newmark

Supposing Catherine Lim was writing about me and not the prime minister ... She would not dare, right? Because my posture, my response has been such that nobody doubts that if you take me on, I will put on knuckle-dusters and catch you in a cul de sac ... Anybody who decides to take me on needs to put on knuckle dusters. If you think you can hurt me more than I can hurt you, try. There is no other way you can govern a Chinese society. ~ Lee Kuan Yew

You never called me back," he said. "I called you so many times and you never called me back."
Magnus looked at Alec as if he'd lost his mind. "Your city is under attack," he said. "The wards have been broken, and the streets are full of demons. And you want to know why I haven't called you?"
Alec set his jaw in a stubborn line. "I want to know why you haven't called me back."
Magnus threw his hands up in the air in a gesture of utter exasperation. Alec noted with interest that when he did it, a few sparks escaped from his fingertips, like fireflies escaping from a jar. "You're an idiot."
"Is that why you haven't called me? Because I'm an idiot?"
"No." Magnus strode toward him. "I didn't call you because I'm tired of you only wanting me around when you need something. I'm tired of watching you be in love with someone else - someone, incidentally, who will never love you back. Not the way I do."
"You love me?"
"You stupid Nephilim," Magnus said patiently. "Why else am I here? Why else would I have spent the past few weeks patching up all your moronic friends every time they got hurt? And getting you out of every ridiculous situation you found yourself in? Not to mention helping you win a battle against Valentine. And all completely free of charge! ~ Cassandra Clare

My theory was that if I behaved like a confident, cheerful person, eventually I would buy it myself, and become that. I always had traces of strength somewhere inside me, it wasn't fake, it was just a way of summoning my courage to the fore and not letting any creeping self-doubt hinder my adventures. This method worked then, and it works now. I tell myself that I am the sort of person who can open a one-woman play in the West End, so I do. I am the sort of person who has several companies, so I do. I am the sort of person WHO WRITES A BOOK! So I do. It's the process of having faith in the self you don't quite know you are yet, if you see what I mean. Believing that you will find the strength, the means somehow, and trusting in that, although your legs are like jelly. You can still walk on them and you will find the bones as you walk. Yes, that's it. The further I walk, the stronger I become. So unlike the real lived life, where the further you walk, the more your hips hurt. ~ Dawn French

It's funny that these people think I'm so powerful. I've figured out over the years, you can only hurt me if I love you; if I don't know you, I really don't care. There are people who want to kill me and I'm always like, 'Well, get in line, darling. ~ Conchita Wurst

I'm giving away my family's story. Who owns the family's story? I don't. But you could turn it around and ask, 'Who is to deny me to write my family's story?' I have hurt people, but I don't think in a dangerous way. But you can't tell. ~ Karl Ove Knausgaard

Hey...you okay?"
I recognized the voice-how had my dreams known his voice?-but when he crouched down next to me, I skittered away.
"Don't touch me!" I snapped.
He held up his hands to show he was harmless. "Okay, okay," he said with a smirk. "You were the one chasing me."
I glared at him. It was an impressive show of restraint on my part, when the truth was that having him physically in front of me was wreaking havoc on my body and my brain. My heart was pounding fast, and my mind played a loop of every moment we'd shared in my dreams.
I forced myself to remember he was a stranger. Quite possibly a dangerous stranger. I needed answers from him, but I also needed to stay strong.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I thought you were hurt."
"I am hurt. I twisted my ankle."
"Maybe you shouldn't be chasing strange men through the woods, then."
"Maybe you shouldn't pretend you don't know who I am."
His eyes widened in shock for a moment. "You reme-"
Then he twitched his head briefly to the side, as if flicking away an unwanted thought, and his face relaxed. Only the clenched muscle in his jaw gave away any tension.
"You must be mistaken. I don't think we've ever met."
"Really? You look at most girls like you were caught with your hand in their purse?"
"I don't know what you're talking-"
"And then you ran away. Full speed, even though you knew I was trying to catch up with you. That's not normal. That's not how you act w ~ Hilary Duff

What else? She is so beautiful. You don't get tired of looking at her. You never worry if she is smarter than you: You know she is. She is funny without ever being mean. I love her. I am so lucky to love her, Van Houten. You don't get to choose if you get hurt in this world, old man, but you do have some say in who hurts you. I like my choices. I hope she likes hers. ~ John Green

And it is because they contain thus within themselves the hours of the past that human bodies have the power to hurt so terribly those who love them, because they contain the memories of so many joys and desires already effaced for them, but still cruel for the lover who contemplates and prolongs in the dimension of Time the beloved body of which he is jealous, so jealous that he may even wish for its destruction. For after death Time withdraws from the body, and the memories, so indifferent, grown so pale, are effaced in her who no longer exists, as they soon will be in the lover whom for a while they continue to torment but in whom before long they will perish, once the desire that owed their inspiration to a living body is no longer there to sustain them. Profound Albertine, whom I at once saw sleeping, and who was dead. ~ Marcel Proust