Damaged Soul Quotes

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There are two kinds of guilt. The kind that's a burden and the kind that gives you purpose. Let your guilt be your fuel. Let it remind you of who you want to be. Draw a line in your mind. Never cross it again. You have a soul. It's damaged but it's there. Don't let them take it from you.
Sabaa Tahir (An Ember in the Ashes (An Ember in the Ashes, #1))
Highly sensitive people are too often perceived as weaklings or damaged goods. To feel intensely is not a symptom of weakness, it is the trademark of the truly alive and compassionate. It is not the empath who is broken, it is society that has become dysfunctional and emotionally disabled. There is no shame in expressing your authentic feelings. Those who are at times described as being a 'hot mess' or having 'too many issues' are the very fabric of what keeps the dream alive for a more caring, humane world. Never be ashamed to let your tears shine a light in this world.
Anthon St. Maarten
Two kinds of women get under your skin. The ones who do damage, they don't feel good there but once you're fuckin' stupid enough to let them in you got no choice but to take the time it takes to work them out. Then there are the ones who don't do damage, who feel good there, feed the muscle, the bone, the soul, not rip it or break it or burn it. The ones you don't wanna work out.
Kristen Ashley (Sweet Dreams (Colorado Mountain, #2))
You can't patch a wounded soul with a Band-Aid.
Michael Connelly (The Black Echo (Harry Bosch, #1; Harry Bosch Universe, #1))
There is darkness inside all of us, though mine is more dangerous than most. Still, we all have it—that part of our soul that is irreparably damaged by the very trials and tribulations of life. We are what we are because of it, or perhaps in spite of it. Some use it as a shield to hide behind, others as an excuse to do unconscionable things. But, truly, the darkness is simply a piece of the whole, neither good nor evil unless you make it so. It took a witch, a war, and a voodoo queen to teach me that.
Jenna Maclaine (Bound By Sin (Cin Craven, #3))
The evil in the world comes almost always from ignorance, and goodwill can cause as much damage as ill-will if it is not enlightened. People are more often good than bad, though in fact that is not the question. But they are more or less ignorant and this is what one calls vice or virtue, the most appalling vice being the ignorance that thinks it knows everything and which consequently authorizes itself to kill. The murderer's soul is blind, and there is no true goodness or fine love without the greatest possible degree of clear-sightedness.
Albert Camus (The Plague)
Canned food is a perversion,' Ignatius said. 'I suspect that it is ultimately very damaging to the soul.
John Kennedy Toole (A Confederacy of Dunces)
Draw a line in your mind. Never cross it again. You have a soul. It's damaged, but it's there. Don't let them take it from you, Elias.
Sabaa Tahir (An Ember in the Ashes (An Ember in the Ashes, #1))
James Dean was the damaged but beautiful soul of our time.
Andy Warhol
Your body is not a first aid kit for broken people and damaged souls and hearts that are too tired to fix themselves.
Nikita Gill (Wild Embers)
Did you really think she was a tender flower you could trample upon, and damage her very soul? She is wildfire. And she is coming to devour you whole.
Nikita Gill
Sometimes I believe personalities are shaped more by damage than kindness. Kindness doesn’t sink as deep into your skin as the damage does. The damage stains your soul so bad, you can’t scrub it off. It stays there forever, and I feel like people can see all my damage just by looking at me.
Colleen Hoover (Heart Bones)
I was worried that my exuberant drug use had damaged my brain and my nervous system and maybe even my soul in some irreparable and perhaps not readily apparent way.
Donna Tartt (The Goldfinch)
Rape is a crime against sleep and memory; it's after image imprints itself like an irreversible negative from the camera obscure of dreams. Though their bodies would heal, their souls had sustained a damage beyond compensation
Pat Conroy (The Prince of Tides)
It's a lot easier to heal an injured body than a damaged soul.
John Flanagan (The Sorcerer of the North (Ranger's Apprentice, #5))
Damaged souls have their own beauty. A dark, terrifying beauty. The same type of beauty I recognize in Ronan.
A. Zavarelli (Reaper (Boston Underworld, #2))
She looks defeated. Beautiful and soft and damaged standing there before me partially clothed in the light of the moon beaming through the tall window. Beautiful, but defeated. That look in her eyes, it somehow latches onto my soul and all I want is for her to turn and walk away. Because I know that if she doesn't, if she presses me further with those soft lips and sad, vulnerable eyes that I'll succumb to the moment and either fuck her or kill her.
J.A. Redmerski (Killing Sarai (In the Company of Killers, #1))
Music is not a fucking soda. It is not a fucking insurance rate. It is not a fucking T-shirt. It is the only real religion that is worth devoting your soul to. It is the last remnant of the primal scream, the funeral dirge, and the wedding march. It is the light that keeps me out of the shadows, and it is the reason my immortal soul is not in dire straits.
Corey Taylor
Love couldn’t be moved by circumstance, poor choices, or even blatant lies—skewed and damaged, yes, but the heart couldn’t deny what it wanted most once the desire was planted. Whether in bliss or affliction, love owned you all the same.
Rachael Wade (The Tragedy of Knowledge (Resistance, #3))
She was drawn to damaged souls like a moth to a flame. 
Anna McPartlin (Apart From The Crowd)
What if I told you that damage doesn't define you and the way you survive is no one else's business?
Nikita Gill (Fierce Fairytales: Poems and Stories to Stir Your Soul)
I’ve read hundreds of novels in my life, most of them claiming that love was the center of the universe. That it could heal any damage inside of us. That it was what we needed to survive. From Darcy to Heathcliff, I thought they were fools. That love was something fictional, only found in worn pages of a book. That it was just made up to keep humans full of hope, that it was a lie. But all that changed since I met my Elizabeth Bennett. I never thought I would find myself completely and utterly consumed by another until her. She took my hand and led me out of the darkness and showed me that, whatever our souls are made of, hers and mine are the same. I’m sorry, please forgive me. You once asked me who I loved most in this world. It’s you. — Hardin ( Movie- "After" - Hardin's letter to Tessa )
Anna Todd
No amount of soul searching would fix my past. There was no magical Band-Aid I could stick on my heart, no special glue I could use to make myself whole again. I had shattered to pieces like a fragile vase on concrete; some fragments could be roughly cobbled back together, but many of my vital parts had simply turned to dust, pulverized and scattered by the first gust of wind.
Julie Johnson (Like Gravity)
They say that childhood forms us, that those early influences are the key to everything. Is the peace of the soul so easily won? Simply the inevitable result of a happy childhood. What makes childhood happy? Parental harmony? Good health? Security? Might not a happy childhood be the worst possible preparation for life? Like leading a lamb to the slaughter.
Josephine Hart (Damage)
[Y]ou are not ashamed of your sin [in committing adultery] because so many men commit it. Man's wickedness is now such that men are more ashamed of chastity than of lechery. Murderers, thieves, perjurers, false witnesses, plunderers and fraudsters are detested and hated by people generally, but whoever will sleep with his servant girl in brazen lechery is liked and admired for it, and people make light of the damage to his soul. And if any man has the nerve to say that he is chaste and faithful to his wife and this gets known, he is ashamed to mix with other men, whose behaviour is not like his, for they will mock him and despise him and say he's not a real man; for man's wickedness is now of such proportions that no one is considered a man unless he is overcome by lechery, while one who overcomes lechery and stays chaste is considered unmanly.
Augustine of Hippo (Sermons 1-19)
Every damaged soul deserves the chance to love again.
Virginia Alison
There was a full moon in the starless sky. I thought how rarely I had noticed such things. Some deep failure of the soul perhaps. An inherited emptiness. A nothingness passed from generation to generation. A flaw in the psyche, discovered only by those who suffer by it.
Josephine Hart (Damage)
Beware of more powerful weapons. They often inflict as much damage to your soul as they do to you enemies.
Greg Cox (The Rise and Fall of Khan Noonien Singh (Star Trek: The Eugenics Wars, #1))
I had a feeling that Ben Lancaster had just tattooed himself onto my soul and the thing about tattoos? They were painful to remove.
Julie Bale (The Stillness of You (Beautifully Damaged, #1))
achieving true sobriety goes beyond abstinence. it's also about healing your soul, apologizing for damage you did to other, and seeking forgiveness.
Lou Gramm (Juke Box Hero: My Five Decades in Rock 'n' Roll)
Some people will leave you soon no matter how, but it's not the ending of your story, it's just the ending of their role in your story. cause life goes on, and you should just expect damage from others.
Marouane LAASSAFAR
You're damaged beyond repair that even if I wanted to fix you I couldn't.
Ahmed Mostafa
They never got you, don't you know that? You irritating, charming, stubborn, evolved, intolerable, sweet, complex, caring, melodramatic bastard with your heart of gold. They never got you. You're wholly you, and you're perfect.
Dianna Hardy (Rise Of The Wolf (Eye Of The Storm, #5))
It is possible to be a fan of reality TV, talent shows and bubblegum pop and still have a brain. You will also see that a great many people know perfectly well how silly and camp and trivial their fandom is. They do not check in their minds when they enter a fan site. Judgement is not necessarily fled to brutish beasts, and men have not quite lost their reason. Which is all a way of questioning whether pop-culture hero worship is really so psychically damaging, so erosive of cognitive faculties, so corrupting of the soul of mankind as we are so often told.
Stephen Fry (The Fry Chronicles)
His steady gaze was even softer than his voice. It reached out to the broken parts of her like a caress. The type of touch that moves through damaged flesh, past fractured bones and into a person's wounded soul.
Stephanie Garber (Caraval (Caraval, #1))
When we mourn those who die young – those who have been robbed of time – we weep for lost joys. We weep for opportunities and pleasure we ourselves have never known. We feel sure that somehow that young body would have known the yearning delight for which we searched in vain all our lives. We believe that the untried soul, trapped in its young prison, might have flown free and known the joy that we still seek.
Josephine Hart (Damage)
You're just another f*cking mirage on my road to hell" ~Johnathon Lee Ashfield, AKA Sade~
Lucian Bane (Mercy (Mercy, #1))
I thought there should in truth be heavy damages for malpractice on human souls.
Owen Wister (The Virginian: A Horseman of the Plains)
Kindness doesn’t sink as deep into your skin as the damage does. The damage stains your soul so bad, you can’t scrub it off.
Colleen Hoover (Heart Bones)
Speed damages our souls because living fast consumes every ounce of our energy. Speed has a deafening roar that drowns our the whispering voices of our souls and leaves Jesus as a diminishing speck in the rearview mirror.
Mike Yaconelli
Let me guess. You think we’re going to live happily ever after, like some stupid fairy tale?” “Why not?” His stare dared me to laugh or, worse, to argue. “Because the whole thing is ridiculous,” I said. I despised the bitterness in my own voice. I sounded so damaged. Good. If he thought I was his soul mate for some mysterious reason he wouldn’t let on, let him see the worst of me. “It’s not ridiculous to me. Perhaps that’s the difference between predators and prey, love. I’ll never stop hunting. But I expect that one day, you’ll stop running.” “Because I want to die?” “Because you want to live.
Delilah S. Dawson (Wicked as They Come (Blud, #1))
Imagine you are sitting down in a chair and on a screen before you you are shown a bloody, ripping film of yourself undergoing surgery. The surgery saved your life. It was pivotal in making you you. But you don't remember it. Or do you? Do we understand the events that make us who we are? Do we ever understand the factors that make us do the things we do? When we sleep at night - when we walk across a field and see a tree full of sleeping birds - when we tell small lies to our friends - when we make love - what acts of surgery are happening to our souls - what damage and healing and shock are we going through that we will never be able to fathom? What films are generated that we will never be shown?
Douglas Coupland (Shampoo Planet)
To take for granted one's blessings is a damage to the soul, and in time one will lose them, simply from lack of care. One should never tire of nourishing and treasuring all that is lovely.
Anne Perry (Tathea (Tathea, #1))
I didn’t have to look at him to know I’d just lost everything I’d ever wanted because I felt it. I felt the loss seep into bone and tissue. I felt it settle between the cracks in my heart and the empty holes in my soul.
Julie Bale (The Stillness of You (Beautifully Damaged, #1))
Anam is the Irish word for “soul” and Ċara is the word for “friend.” In the Anam-Ċara friendship, you were joined in an ancient way with the friend of your soul. This was a bond that neither space nor time could damage. The friendship awakened an eternal echo in the hearts of the friends; they entered into a circle of intimate belonging with each other. The Anam-Ċara friendship afforded a spiritual space to all the other longings of the human heart.
John O'Donohue (Eternal Echoes)
Please don’t make the mistake of thinking the arts and sciences are at odds with one another. That is a recent, stupid, and damaging idea. You don’t have to be unscientific to make beautiful art, to write beautiful things. If you need proof: Twain, Adams, Vonnegut, McEwen, Sagan, Shakespeare, Dickens. For a start. You don’t need to be superstitious to be a poet. You don’t need to hate GM technology to care about the beauty of the planet. You don’t have to claim a soul to promote compassion. Science is not a body of knowledge nor a system of belief; it is just a term which describes humankind’s incremental acquisition of understanding through observation. Science is awesome.
Tim Minchin
For Longing Blessed be the longing that brought you here And quickens your soul with wonder. May you have the courage to listen to the voice of desire That disturbs you when you have settled for something safe. May you have the wisdom to enter generously into your own unease To discover the new direction your longing wants you to take. May the forms of your belonging—in love, creativity, and friendship— Be equal to the grandeur and the call of your soul. May the one you long for long for you. May your dreams gradually reveal the destination of your desire. May a secret Providence guide your thought and nurture your feeling. May your mind inhabit life with the sureness with which your body inhabits the world. May your heart never be haunted by ghost-structures of old damage. May you come to accept your longing as divine urgency. May you know the urgency with which God longs for you.
John O'Donohue (To Bless the Space Between Us: A Book of Blessings)
Anyone can say 'I love you', however so many other sayings carry more weight in a relationship: “I understand what you went through because I went through it too.” “I believe you and in you.” “I see the pain you are going through and we will conquer this together.” “I don’t want to change you. I just want to help you become the best version of yourself.” “You matter to me, therefore I will be there for you always.” "I will never keep things from you because you have my respect and friendship. If I find out someone is putting you down, I will stand up for you. ” “Your character will always shine when I speak about you because to damage your name is to damage ours.” “I will go to the ends of the earth to save you from yourself or others.” “What you have to say is important to me because I see you’re hurting and that hurts me, so I am going to listen. Together we will solve this problem.” “I don’t care about your past. That was yesterday. Today, we are going to start over because people make mistakes, but they don’t have to pay for them for the rest of their life.” "How can I help you get through this?" “In sickness or in health...I meant it and I will search the world to find a way to keep you in it because you mean that much to me.” “I don’t want to be your parent. I want to be your best friend, lover, cheering section, playmate and fill all the important parts of your soul. Together we will fill the rest as equals.
Shannon L. Alder
Loving you is no more a beautiful memory, but now just a pain, I cry and weep every time I walk down the memory lane, Your love always completed me in every sense as a whole, But now it’s just emptiness and sorrow in my heart that drains, Of all the people in the world, you choose me to be hurt, Of all the hearts in the world, you choose mine to break… Why did you leave me I ask myself every morning and dawn? Why my love was incomplete tell me why you were gone? A silence surrounds my heart and fills it again with despair, Oh this pain is just too much, and the damage beyond repair, Please come back baby, just come back and bring that old smile, Or just come to see me every once in a while, So my heart no more bleeds, and no more my soul aches, So I can be peaceful after my death, in my ashes and burnt flakes…
Mehek Bassi (Chained: Can you escape fate?)
It neither kills outright nor inflicts apparent physical harm, yet the extent of its destructive toll is already greater than that of any war, plague, famine, or natural calamity on record - and its potential damage to the quality of human life and the fabric of civilized society is beyond calculation. For that reason this sickness of the soul might well be called the 'Fifth Horseman of the Apocalypse.' Its more conventional name, of course, is dehumanization.
Ashley Montagu (The Dehumanization Of Man)
Many of us, myself, included, considered our souls necessary collateral damage to get done the things we felt we simply had to get get done - because of other people's expectations, because we want to be know as highly capable, because we're trying to outrun an inner emptiness. And for a while we don't even realize the compromise we've made. We're on autopilot, chugging through the day on fear and caffeine, checking things off the list, falling into bed without even a real thought or feeling or connection all day long, just a sense of having made it through.
Shauna Niequist (Present Over Perfect: Leaving Behind Frantic for a Simpler, More Soulful Way of Living)
If greed were not the master of modern man--ably assisted by envy--how could it be that the frenzy of economism does not abate as higher "standards of living" are attained, and that it is precisely the richest societies which pursue their economic advantage with the greatest ruthlessness? How could we explain the almost universal refusal on the part of the rulers of the rich societies--where organized along private enterprise or collective enterprise lines--to work towards the humanisation of work? It is only necessary to assert that something would reduce the "standard of living" and every debate is instantly closed. That soul-destroying, meaningless, mechanical, monotonous, moronic work is an insult to human nature which must necessarily and inevitably produce either escapism or aggression, and that no amount of of "bread and circuses" can compensate for the damage done--these are facts which are neither denied nor acknowledged but are met with an unbreakable conspiracy of silence--because to deny them would be too obviously absurd and to acknowledge them would condemn the central preoccupation of modern society as a crime against humanity.
Ernst F. Schumacher (Small Is Beautiful: Economics as if People Mattered)
If she wanted this man to trust her, to open up to her, she would have to strip every last piece of herself away, like he had been stripped. That's the only way he would let her in. The challenge seemed insurmountable, maybe because he seemed insurmountable.
Dianna Hardy (Heart Of The Wolf (Eye Of The Storm, #3))
It is the devil's greatest triumph when he can deprive us of the joy of the Spirit. He carries fine dust with him in little boxes and scatters it through the cracks in our conscience in order to dim the soul's pure impulses and its luster. But the joy that fills the heart of the spiritual person destroys the deadly poison of the serpent. But if any are gloomy and think that they are abandoned in their sorrow, gloominess will continuously tear at them or else they will waste away in empty diversions. When gloominess takes root, evil grows. If it is not dissolved by tears, permanent damage is done.
Francis of Assisi
She was damaged goods. Spoiled meat.
V. Theia (Dirty Salvation (Renegade Souls MC Romance Saga #1))
If we learn to love someone for their imperfections that reflect our own, we eventually appreciate the thought that even the most beautiful things are damaged
Nicola An (The Universe at Heartbeat)
ففي براغ, حين توقف الموت, او تأجل, بدأ موتي الآخر!
عبدالرحمن منيف (الآن هنا.. أو شرق المتوسط مرة أخرى)
Damaged souls have their own beauty. A dark, terrifying beauty.
A. Zavarelli (Reaper (Boston Underworld, #2))
We may talk lightly but never carelessly. We keep at bay the flow of common, ignorant thought which runs its damaging course through the pathways of ordinary human conversation.
Donna Goddard (The Love of Devotion)
The most important things, the experiences that leave marks on our souls for everyone to see, those marks that reflect our most intense emotions in a glass pane, we will never forget.
allie burke (Paper Souls)
Wouldn't it be incredible if everyone could be purged, somehow, of the projected not-them badness that they internalized and perhaps have acted out because their souls have been so damaged? Wouldn't it be incredible if everyone could find the joy that comes with committing to our own goodness? Perhaps we would stop dividing ourselves into malignancies of various forms.
Eve Ensler (In the Body of the World)
Love is dangerous because it makes you an individual. And the state and the church . . . they don’t want individuals, not at all. They don’t want human beings, they want sheep. They want people who only look like human beings but whose souls have been crushed so utterly, damaged so deeply, that it seems almost irreparable.
Osho (Courage: The Joy of Living Dangerously)
And as much of a selfish, uncaring prick Hawk was, Gia was the one person to somehow have climbed under the spikes of his soul, to make him care whether he hurt her, used her, damaged her in any way with his body and fucked up mind. She was the only one he could leash his selfish wants for.
V. Theia (Filthy Love (Renegade Souls MC Romance Saga #4))
Let us also acknowledge that the hearts which suffer the most from our wars are those of mothers. Their vital voices have been left out of the political equation for too long. An Iraqi or American mother cries the same as an Israeli or Afghan mother. The eyes of a mother who has suffered the loss of a child can destroy the soul of anyone who gazes upon them. More souls become casualties of war than physical bodies. War is a soul-shattering experience for the innocent.
Suzy Kassem (Rise Up and Salute the Sun: The Writings of Suzy Kassem)
His wounds now bear scars, and those scars dull all feeling. You may see that as a flaw, but I assure you, just as the body will protect what was damaged, so too will the soul.
Steven Erikson (Fall of Light (The Kharkanas Trilogy, #2))
A delicate scent hung in the air as we strolled down the long boulevard toward the Opera House holding hands. Paris had come to life in a very special way, the lights of the Eiffel Tower a gentle reminder that nothing mattered once that starry blanket covered the great city, except love. Love was the reason Paris existed. For those lonely in their soul, their heart a barren wasteland starving for nourishment, she offered hope. For those like Caroline and I, lucky enough to have found each other and begin the healing process to repair our brokenness, Paris was a bastion to love's transforming power. A year ago I could not have pictured myself holding hands with someone as nice as Caroline, as lovely and unpretentious. She was pretty, but her soul made her beautiful. I loved everything about her, including her damage.
Bobby Underwood (The Long Gray Goodbye (Seth Halliday #2))
There are twenty-five thousand, six hundred and twelve things you don't know about me. I'll tell you one each day." "That means it will take you seventy-plus years to know everything about me. When I turn one hundred, that will be the last one. Though I expect by then you'll know the very first and very last thing you need to know about me, the only one that matters." ~ Jon Forte
Joey W. Hill (Afterlife (Knights of the Board Room, #4))
Love is the devil in disguise. He sweeps in and seduces you when you’re at your weakest, when you’ve lost all hope. But he gives you a sense of want and desire. He whispers sweet words, wrapping you into a world of existence, because before Love, you didn’t exist. Then, when you give in fully, when you’re lost in Love and when he has you exactly where he wants you, he takes over completely, possessing your mind, body, and soul. That’s when he snatches your heart, rips it to shreds, and leaves you with nothing left to give.
E.L. Montes (Perfectly Damaged)
The Emperor, you see, protects... He protects mankind, through the Legions, through the Martial corps, through the war machines of the Mechanicum. He understands the dangers. The inconsistencies. He uses you, and all the instruments like you, to protect us from harm. To protect our physical bodies from murder and damage, to protect our minds from madness, to protect our souls... There are insane dangers in the cosmos, dangers that mankind is fundamentally unable to comprehend, let alone survive. So he protects us. There are truths out there that would drive us mad by one fleeting glimpse of them. So he chooses not to share them with us. That's why he made you... Remember, Garviel. The Emperor is our truth and out light. If we trust in him, he will protect.
Dan Abnett (Horus Rising (Horus Heresy #1))
When you hurt someone, you always damage your own soul, and it doesn't feel good. A good person can feel it happening. A bad person doesn't notice until it's too late.
Sharon Bayliss (Watch Me Burn (The December People, #2))
We become increasingly aware that the human dream, the human drama, with all its questionable, damaging, and often malevolent intention is not real life at all.
Donna Goddard (The Love of Being Loving)
Here, just like in my own world, popularity was power; survival required the occasional sacrifice of a damaged limb—or a damaged cousin—and alliances were crucial.
Rachel Vincent (Never to Sleep (Soul Screamers, #5.5))
I saw on his face a glimpse of his past. The damage, the unhappiness and the pain, and I wondered what kind of skeletons he has been hiding and for how long. It’s one of those mutual attraction moments that are unexplainable, but as real as anything you’ve ever seen. Almost like my soul knows his soul.
Cyma Rizwaan Khan (I See The Devil)
Life has an uncanny way of tying up a host of loose ends. Not in the neat, all-creases-matching, hospital corner-to-corner kind of way, but in a cloudy, murky, uncertain mish-mash collection of what ifs, could haves, and a bus load of should haves kind of way. But what happens when all the magnificent stars in the heavens and all the resolute planets in the galaxy agree to simultaneously align? What happens when the glorious birds of prey in the sky and the steadfast worker ants of the ground all decide to ally? And more intriguingly, what happens when the settling of old hurts and scores becomes so alluring, so certain, with the whispered promise of everlasting, as to lure with it a collection of hardly surviving, barely functioning, scattered, and damaged souls together once again? As one door finally seemed to close tightly shut, two others flung wide open, and the darkness of life’s most protected secrets and haunts invited the crippling unknown to bask once again in the glaring, naked light.
Sahar Abdulaziz (As One Door Closes)
What should I feel after carving my bones? peeling off my skin? after sculpted my soul and damaging my fervour, just as the way you desire your appetite must be. Abandoned, forsaken, empty, perhaps..
ehddah
without truth, people cannot heal. If we ignore the root cause of our wounds, we will continue to be wounded, even if we heal some of the damage. We might fix what has been harmed. But if we continue doing what caused the harm in the first place, we will simply acquire (or inflict) new wounds because the core activity has not changed.
Vinita Hampton Wright (Praying Freedom: Lenten Meditations to Engage Your Mind and Free Your Soul (NONE))
I’ll tell you what real love is. It is blind devotion, unquestioning self-humiliation, utter submission, trust, and belief against yourself and against the whole world, giving up your whole heart and soul to the smiter.
L.A. Fiore (Beautifully Damaged (Beautifully Damaged, #1))
Gawk? What is gawk?" he asked. "You tell me. You're the one that does it." I said... "My definition of gawking would be..." He paused as if to hold back what he was going to say. But he couldn't any longer. "...when you look at her, your heart starts slamming uncontrollably in your chest. So much that it scares you. And every other noise that surrounds you slowly fades away into absolute silence. You only hear the sounds she makes. And when she looks back at you, when her eyes meet yours, it's as if she is looking deep inside your soul. And she can see all of the hatred you're consumed in. Her eyes quench the thirst of your soul, gently soothing your damaged heart in the most alluring way... a way you could only dream of.
E.M. Jade (Captivated (Affliction, #1))
O VENENO ARDENTE DO DESGOSTO. THE WHITE HOT POISON OF ANGER. When others make us angry at them- at their shamelessness, injustice, inconsideration- then they exercise power over us, they proliferate and gnaw at our soul, then anger is like a white-hot poison that corrods all mild, noble and balanced feelings and robs us of sleep. Sleepless, we turn on the light and are angry at the anger that has lodged like a succubus who sucks us dry and debilitates us. We are not only furious at the damage, but also that it develops in us all by itself, for while we sit on the edge of the bed with aching temples, the distant catalyst remains untouched by the corrosive force of the anger that eats at us. On the empty internal stage bathed in the harsh light of mute rage, we perform all by ourselves a drama with shadow figures and shadow words we hurl against enemies in helpless rage we feel as icy blazing fire in our bowels. And the greater our despair that is only a shadow play and not a real discussion with the possibility of hurting the other and producing a balance of suffering, the wilder the poisonous shadows dance and haunt us even in the darkest catacombs of our dreams. (We will turn the tables, we think grimly, and all night long forge words that will produce in the other the effect of a fire bomb so that now he will be the one with the flames of indignation raging inside while we, soothed by schadenfreude, will drink our coffee in cheerful calm.) What could it mean to deal appropriately with anger? We really don't want to be soulless creatures who remain thoroughly indifferent to what they come across, creatures whose appraisals consist only of cool, anemic judgments and nothing can shake them up because nothing really bothers them. Therefore, we can't seriously wish not to know the experience of anger and instead persist in an equanimity that wouldn't be distinguished from tedious insensibility. Anger also teaches us something about who we are. Therefore this is what I'd like to know: What can it mean to train ourselves in anger and imagine that we take advantage of its knowledge without being addicted to its poison? We can be sure that we will hold on to the deathbed as part of the last balance sheet- and this part will taste bitter as cyanide- that we have wasted too much, much too much strength and time on getting angry and getting even with others in a helpless shadow theater, which only we, who suffered impotently, knew anything about. What can we do to improve this balance sheet? Why did our parents, teachers and other instructors never talk to us about it? Why didn't they tell something of this enormous significance? Not give us in this case any compass that could have helped us avoid wasting our soul on useless, self-destructive anger?
Pascal Mercier (Night Train to Lisbon)
My definition of gawking would be when you look at her, your heart starts slamming uncontrollably in your chest. So much that it scares you. And every other noise that surrounds you slowly fades away into absolute silence. You only hear the sounds she makes. And when she looks back at you, when her eyes meet yours, it's as if she is looking deep inside your soul. And she can see all of the hatred you're consumed in. Her eyes quench the thirst of your soul, gently soothing your damaged heart in the most alluring way... a way you could only dream of. Then those magical eyes start to look away. The time-freeze you were caught in starts to wear off. And fear takes over. You want to pull those eyes to yours again so that you could once again feel the fascinating sensations of happiness. Then, when she's out of your sight, you feel empty inside. Your heart is back to normal. Only this time, it's left with an aching worse than before. But you can never tell her. You can never be with her. You are alone in your pitiful existence.
E.M. Jade (Captivated (Affliction, #1))
People can do things completely against their nature, completely. It’s like some tiny earthquake comes roaring through your body and soul, and it’s the only earthquake you’ll ever feel. But it damages so much, cracks the foundations of your life forever.
Sherman Alexie (The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight in Heaven)
If we learn to love someone for their imperfections that reflect our own, we eventually thought that even the most beautiful things are damaged
Nicola An (The Universe at Heartbeat)
Silent lies are more venomous than cruel truths
Ben Oliveira
Our grounding in the soul means that regardless of how badly we think of ourselves, there is a wholesomeness in us that no one has ever been able to damage.
John O'Donohue (To Bless the Space Between Us: A Book of Invocations and Blessings)
Both Grant and Sherman were damaged souls who would redeem tarnished reputations in the brutal crucible of war.
Ron Chernow (Grant)
They were very sweet words. Words that soothed the gaping hurt in her soul. But the devil was good when it comes to dealing with damaged souls.
Stylo Fantome (Separation (The Kane Trilogy, #2))
Let's drink to broken families and damaged souls.
Sara Desai (The Dating Plan)
You persuade yourself that all is well even though you are feeling bored or unfulfilled and you are not sure if your husband or wife is your Soul mate. You have tried your best and you have created a pretty good life for yourself despite your circumstances. ‘At least you are safe’ your damaged self whispers. ‘At least no one suspects how wounded you are. In fact, I do not even think you are damaged anymore. Look at your nice home, your spouse, your career status, your wealth and all of your nice possessions. You are a success, you fool.
Victoria Holt (Heaven is Here - The Ultimate Guide to Living Your Best Life in this World and the Next)
Only a new love can help repair the damage left by an old one. Whether it be the love from another, a spiritual love, the love of self or all of the above, only love has that power.
Amari Soul (Reflections Of A Man)
I've read hundreds of novels in my life, most of them claiming that love was the center of the universe. That it could heal any damage inside of us. That it was what we need to survive. From Darcy to Heathcliff I tought they were fools. That love was something fictional, only found in worn pages of a book. But all that has changed since I met my Elizabeth Bennet. I never thought I would find myself completely and utterly consumed by another until her. She took my hand and lead me out of the darkness and showed me that, whatever our souls are made for hers and mine are the same. You once asked me who I loved most in this world, it's you.
Hardin Scott
There is an internal landscape, a geography of the soul: we search for its outlines all over our lives. Those who are lucky enough to find it ease like water over stone, onto its fluid contours, and are home. Some find it in a place of their birth; others may leave a seaside town, parched, and find themselves refreshed in the desert. there are those born in rolling countryside who are really only at ease in the intense and busy loneliness of the city. For some, the search is for the imprint of another; a child or a mother, a grandfather or a brother, a lover, a husband, a wife, or a foe. We may go through our lives happy or unhappy, successful or unfulfilled, loved, or unloved, without ever standing cold with the shock or recognition, without ever feeling the agony as the twisted iron in our soul unlocks itself and we slip at last into place.
Josephine Hart
Above all sins, guard against bold or arrogant ones. You are not beyond the danger of such. If caught in the web of presumptuous sin, call quickly to God for help. If you hesitate, you only give Satan time to entangle you more tightly. But if you cry out to God in true repentance, He will come at once to rescue you. The sooner you yield to the Spirit, the less damage is done to your soul.
William Gurnall (The Christian in Complete Armour: Daily Readings in Spiritual Warfare)
You, Ember. It’s you I don’t want put in danger. I can’t live without you. You burrowed yourself so deeply into my soul that I can’t exist without you. Don’t you get that? It’s fucking you I need.
L.A. Fiore (Beautifully Forgotten (Beautifully Damaged, #2))
One day you will meet someone who will break down your walls and stare into the depths of you. One day they will see the bruises on your soul, will hear about all of the terrible things you have done, and you will expect them to leave, but they won’t. They won’t. One day, you will meet someone who looks into the damage, who sees the wounds, the dark, and they will love you anyways. They will love you.
Bianca Sparacino (The Strength In Our Scars)
He saw her. Not just her mesmerizing eyes, her smooth skin and curly, brown hair. He saw beyond that. Way beyond, inside her soul. Inside where he could reach and touch the pieces of the heart he had broken. Some of the pieces were so badly damaged that they could never be fixed again, but he didn’t care about that because they were his broken pieces—his to cherish, his to love, his to bring back to life.
Astrid Jane Ray (Virtue & Vanity)
You think I ever expected to find a woman with so many of the things I wanted in a relationship? Your sexual nature, your spiritual outlook, your beauty, inside and out. And some things I didn't even realize I wanted until I started taking your class. Every week was the opportunity to learn something new about you, to see if it fit the mold. But most weeks what I learned broke it, and created an even better one." "Your going to take my breath away." "That's all right. You can have mine." ~Jon Forte to Rachael Madison
Joey W. Hill (Afterlife (Knights of the Board Room, #4))
Though I would have died rather than told anyone, I was worried my exuberant drug use had damaged my brain and my nervous system and maybe even my soul in some irreparable and perhaps not readily apparent way.
Donna Tartt (The Goldfinch)
When we mourn those who die young – those who have been robbed of time – we weep for lost joys. We weep for opportunities and pleasure we ourselves have never known. We feel sure that somehow that young body would have known the yearning delight for which we searched in vain all our lives. We believe that the untried soul, trapped in its young prison, might have flown free and known the joy that we still seek. We say that life is sweet, its satisfactions deep. All this we say, as we sleepwalk our time through years of days and nights. We let time cascade over us like a waterfall, believing it to be never-ending. Yet each day that touches us, and every man in the world, is unique; irredeemable; over. And just another Monday.
Josephine Hart (Damage)
Why”: Where do you even start to answer that simple one-word quandary? As huge as our souls are purported to be, what fills us with a bigger satisfaction—love or revenge? Would we rather give it all or take it all?
Corey Taylor (Seven Deadly Sins: Settling the Argument Between Born Bad and Damaged Good)
We are living in an age of intense activity. The very atmosphere is charged with a spirit of hurry and rush. This spirit influences our spiritual life in too great a measure and works damage to its development. Our souls are too noisy.
John Wright Follette (Broken Bread)
The Way Damaged People Love Damaged people love you like you are a crime scene before a crime has even been committed They keep their running shoes beside their souls every night, one eye open in case things change whilst they sleep. Their backs are always tense as though waiting to fight a sudden storm that might engulf them. Because damaged people have already seen hell. And damaged people understand that every evil demon That exists down their was once a kind angel before it fell.
Nikita Gill
WHEN GOD IS A DRUG—RELIGIOUS ADDICTION Mood alteration is an ingredient of compulsive/addictive behavior. Addiction has been described as “a pathological relationship to any mood-altering experience that has life-damaging consequences.” Toxic shame has been suggested as the core and fuel of all addiction. Religious addiction is rooted in toxic shame, which can be readily mood-altered through various religious behaviors. One can get feelings of righteousness through any form of worship. One can fast, pray, meditate, serve others, go through sacramental rituals, speak in tongues, be slain by the Holy Spirit, quote the Bible, read Bible passages, or say the name of Yahweh or Jesus. Any of these can be a mood-altering experience. If one is toxically shamed, such an experience can be immensely rewarding. The disciples of any religious system can say we are good and others, those not like us, the sinners, are bad. This can be exhilarating to the souls of toxically shamed people.
John Bradshaw (Healing the Shame that Binds You)
My God is in the business of miracles. And my God does not want anyone to suffer in hell. He wants all of his children to come to him—yes, even those of us “monsters” that are in or have been in the abortion industry. Hate comes from hell. Mercy comes from Christ. When we have hate in our hearts, our spirits are damaged. Be careful with your words. Not only are you a living witness of Christ and his truth, but you could put your own soul at risk. “Any one who hates his brother is a murderer, and you know that no murderer has eternal life abiding in him” (1 John 3:15). When we hate, we are no better than those who kill. I
Abby Johnson (The Walls Are Talking: Former Abortion Clinic Workers Tell Their Stories)
There are two types of laws, those that are just and those that are unjust. A just law is a man-made code that squares with the moral law. An unjust law is a code that is out of harmony with the moral law...Any law that uplifts the human personality is just. Any law that degrades human personality is unjust. All segregation statutes are unjust because segregation distorts the soul and damages the personality.
Martin Luther King Jr.
Sometimes I believe personalities are shaped more by damage than kindness. Kindness doesn’t sink as deep into your skin as the damage does. The damage stains your soul so bad, you can’t scrub it off. It stays there forever, and I feel like people can see all my damage just by looking at me. Things
Colleen Hoover (Heart Bones)
It is from the pulpit that God speaks to His people through His word, so when His voice is removed and replaced with another, the church is quickly led astray. History bears witness to the fact that when the church loses her influence, the culture suffers, degrades, and eventually falls. But worse than the damage to culture is the absolute tragic end of souls who meet their demise without ever being reconciled to God through the gospel of Jesus Christ.
Nate Pickowicz (Reviving New England: The Key to Revitalizing Post-Christian America)
People allow India to exist only in two versions: In the first, everything is too beautiful to be encapsulated, women are swarthy and hippy, shoeless boys play soccer in dirt roads, elephants roam the streets, and temples are merely there for your enjoyment. In the second, India is a country lurching forward awkwardly, suffering a rape epidemic, incapable of a feminist movement or proper health care, a place where people shit and piss in the streets, where the caste system has ruined entire generations, where poverty is so rampant and depressing that you'll hardly make it out with your soul intact, where your IT centre is based, a place just close enough to Pakistan or Iraq or Afghanistan to be scary, but stable enough to be fun and exotic. Because, boy, isn't the food good, and aren't the landmarks something, and hasn't everyone there figured out a kind of profound meditative inner peace that we should all learn from? Like all things, the truth lies somewhere in the middle. A place, any place, can be beautiful and perfect and damaged and dangerous at the same time.
Scaachi Koul (One Day We'll All Be Dead and None of This Will Matter)
One more in a long line, a dreary entity among many others like him, an almost endless number of brain-damaged retards. Biological life goes on, he thought. But the soul, the mind—everything else is dead. A reflex machine. Like some insect. Repeating doomed patterns, a single pattern, over and over now. Appropriate or not.
Philip K. Dick (A Scanner Darkly)
Soul has been demoted to a new-age spiritual fantasy or a missionary's booty, and nature has been treated , at best, as a postcard or a vacation backdrop or, more commonly, as a hardware store or refuse heap. Too many of us lack intimacy with the natural world and with our souls, and consequently we are doing untold damage to both.
Bill Plotkin (Nature and the Human Soul: Cultivating Wholeness and Community in a Fragmented World)
His makeup was running down his face, and he looked so vulnerable. He was just a little boy in love with himself, making deals without ever asking the price, thinking he'd never have to pay. She saw him, not evil, not good, just another boy who thought he was the only person in the world who mattered. So she did him a final kindness, and in her hour of truth she didn't say that he'd cut the track, she didn't mention the betrayal that still hurt after all these years, the way he'd just taken her baby away from her and mutilated it, and instead she said: "We, um, lost the tracks, they got damaged so it never made it onto the album." And like a little boy, Terry gave her a grateful grin.
Grady Hendrix (We Sold Our Souls)
When violence touched people, the damage didn’t stop once the deed was done. It burrowed into the soul and made itself at home.
Anonymous
Love is expensive to the heart and damaging to the soul.
A.C. Bextor (Hayden's Verse (Devil's Despair #2))
Too many of us lack intimacy with the natural world and with our souls, and consequently we are doing untold damage to both. (p. 6)
Bill Potkin
I was a perfect candidate for the secret world. I was smart, I had always been a loner and I was damaged deep in my soul.
Terry Hayes (I Am Pilgrim (Pilgrim, #1))
When violence touched people, the damage didn’t stop once the deed was done. It burrowed into the soul and made itself at home.
Melinda Leigh (She Can Scream (She Can #3))
You don’t have to damage your body and your soul and the people you love most in order to get done what you think you have to get done. You don’t have to live like this.
Shauna Niequist (Present Over Perfect: Leaving Behind Frantic for a Simpler, More Soulful Way of Living)
You become aware of the damage that you do to your own body when you feel and act without compassion.
Gary Zukav (The Seat of the Soul)
Fuck love. It’s more damaging to the soul than anything else in the world. Losing someone you love is like living through your own death
Ker Dukey (Lust (The Elite Seven, #1))
a father's rejection, damages the soul, of young girls, all the way into the pits of adulthood.
R.H. Sin (Algedonic)
I didn’t have a name for what my condition was until I was thirty-three-years-old. We’re each works-in-progress for as long as we live, and I was no different. When you’re in emotional distress, your life can feel like you’re spiraling up or down at any given moment. If these ups and downs are extreme and chronic, they do damage to your mind, body, and soul, and your relationships with other people, including those who care about you most. Recovery and healing require patience, something that is difficult for many people, and certainly was difficult for someone like me. But, I learned to submit to patience because it was either go step-by-step or die. Having patience means knowing that it is never too late to get well.
Jenifer Lewis (The Mother of Black Hollywood: A Memoir)
One can abort a potential child, but this will not harm the soul, who will seek another more appropriate time or person. Thus, abortion is not an issue for souls; it is more painful for the women on earth, and usually this anguish is more entwined with belief and conditioning than many realize. When I have come across a sad or upset soul in the womb, it is most often due to the parent(s) not wanting the child but having it (the burden) anyway. This is hurtful, and even damaging. We all want to be welcomed, to be loved, wanted and cherished.
Stephen Poplin (Inner Journeys, Cosmic Sojourns: Life transforming stories, adventures and messages from a spiritual hypnotherapist's casebook)
We all enter into fallow periods in our lives, times of questioning, of crisis, of not-knowing; times of depression, stagnation, terror and loss. We return from them; changed. Later we enter them again. There is no ceasing of this pattern. And it is by attempting to halt the pattern – to avoid the pain/fear/loss part of it – that we cause the greatest damage to ourselves.
Jane Meredith (Journey to the Dark Goddess: How to Return to Your Soul)
Because the “traumatic” view of early years so controls psychological theory of personality and its development, the focus of our rememberings and the language of our personal story telling have already been infiltrated by the toxins of these theories. Our lives may be determined less by our childhood than by the way we have learned to imagine our childhoods. We are, this book shall maintain, less damaged by the traumas of childhood than by the traumatic way we remember childhood as a time of unnecessary and externally caused calamities that wrongly shaped us.
James Hillman (The Soul's Code: In Search of Character and Calling)
But he knows it now. You have flitted into Lord Voldemort’s mind without damage to yourself, but he cannot possess you without enduring mortal agony, as he discovered in the Ministry. I do not think he understands why, Harry, but then, he was in such a hurry to mutilate his own soul, he never paused to understand the incomparable power of a soul that is untarnished and whole.
J.K. Rowling (Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince (Harry Potter, #6))
Wouldn’t it be incredible if everyone could be purged, somehow, of the projected not-them badness that they internalized and perhaps have acted out because their souls have been so damaged?
Eve Ensler (In the Body of the World: A Memoir of Cancer and Connection)
poems of experience bear the scars and wounds and scorch marks, even the imperfections that damage leaves on the soul, but a good poem also testifies to the triumph of still being able to speak.
Tony Hoagland (The Art of Voice: Poetic Principles and Practice)
All right, Tess. You want it all? You don't care about consequences? Then it is too late. I could tell you to leave him alone. That he's complicated, not in a sexy way, but in a damaged way. I could tell you damage isn't sexy, it's scary. You're still young enough to think every experience will improve you in some long-term way, but it isn't true. How do you suppose damage gets passed on?
Stephanie Danler (Sweetbitter)
MY FACE, and you will find not only My Presence but also My Peace. To receive My Peace, you must change your grasping, controlling stance to one of openness and trust. The only thing you can grasp without damaging your soul is My hand. Ask My Spirit within you to order your day and control your thoughts, for the mind controlled by the Spirit is Life and Peace. You can have as much of Me and My Peace as you want, through thousands of correct choices each day. The most persistent choice you face is whether to trust Me or to worry. You will never run out of things to worry about, but you can choose to trust Me
Sarah Young (Jesus Calling: Enjoying Peace in His Presence)
I have found that a writer is formed not so much by their experiences but by the way in which they view and capture those experiences. Like vivid, rainbow metallic skin cells on the wings of a fragile butterfly, it is how you touch and reveal those inner parts of yourself, without damaging the psyche, that determines whether the beauty is experienced and expressed and shared with others or, in fact, becomes the death of the self and Soul and psyche. I hope that I capture something in my work that is about the elusive, the magical and powerful and the transformative. The writing in itself is transformative for me.
H Raven Rose (Liquid Me: Poetry and Prose)
Look, if I picked up a sword right now, Ron, and ran you through with it, I wouldn’t damage your soul at all.” “Which would be a real comfort to me, I’m sure,” said Ron. Harry laughed. “It should be, actually!
J.K. Rowling (Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows (Harry Potter, #7))
Honesty hurts and depending on the situation you should really think twice about your words. They can be hurtful and have a bad influence. Once they leave your mouth they can cause allot of soul damage and heartache.
Lily Amis (Leo Mousi, Refugees Unwanted!)
Sometimes I believe personalities are shaped more by damage than kindness. Kindness doesn’t sink as deep into your skin as the damage does. The damage stains your soul so bad, you can’t scrub it off. It stays there forever
Colleen Hoover (Heart Bones)
Wanting his mind on other matters, she deliiberately challenged his statement. "You don't know so much about me. There was a man once. He was crazy about me." She tried to look wordly. "Absolutely crazy for me." His answering laughter was warm against her neck, her throat. His lips touched the skin over her pulse and skimmed lightly up to her ear. "Are you, by any chance, referring to that foppish boy with the orange hair and spiked collar? Dragon something?" Savannah gasped and pulled away to glare at im. "How could you possibly know about him? I dated him last year." Gregori nuzzled her neck, inhaling her fragrance, his hand sliding over her shoulder, moving gently over her satin skin to take possession of her breast. "He wore boots and rode a Harley." His breath came out in a rush as his palm cupped the soft weight, his thumb brushing her nipple into a hard peak. The feel of his large hand-so strong, so warm and possessive on her-sent heat curling through her body. Desire rose sharply. He was seducing her with tenderness. Savannah didn't want it to happen. Her body felt better, but the soreness was there to remind her where this could all lead. Her hand caught at his wrist. "How did you find out about Dragon?" she asked, desperate to distract him, to distract herself. How could he make her body burn for his when she was so afraid of him, of having sex with him? "Making love," he corrected, his voice husky, caressing, betraying the ease with which his mind moved like a shadow through hers."And to answer your question, I live in you, can touch you whenever I wish.I knew about all of them. Every damn one." He growled the worrds, and her breath caught in her throat. "He was the only one you thought of kissing." His mouth touched hers. Gently. Lightly. Returned for more. Coaxing, teasing, until she opened to him. He stole her breath, her reason, whirling her into a world of feeling.Bright colors and white-hot heat, the room falling away until there was only his broad shoulders,strong arms, hard body, and perfect,perfect mouth. When he lifted his head, Savannah nearly pulled him back to her.He watched her face,her eyes cloudy with desire, her lips so beautiful, bereft of his. "Do you have any idea how beautiful you are, Savannah? There is such beauty in your soul,I can see it shining in your eyes." She touched his face, her palm molding his strong jaw. Why couldn't she resist his hungry eyes? "I think you're casting a spell over me. I can't remember what we were talking about." Gregori smiled. "Kissing." His teeth nibbled gently at her chin. "Specifically,your wanting to kiss that orange-bearded imbecile." "I wanted to kiss every one of them," she lied indignantly. "No,you did not.You were hoping that silly fop would wipe my taste from your mouth for all eternity." His hand stroked back the fall of hair around her face.He feathered kisses along the delicate line of her jaw. "It would not have worked,you know.As I recall,he seemed to have a problem getting close to you." Her eyes smoldered dangerously. "Did you have anything to do with his allergies?" She had wanted someone, anyone,to wipe Gregori's taste from her mouth,her soul. He raised his voice an octave. "Oh, Savannah, I just have to taste your lips," he mimicked. Then he went into a sneezing fit. "You haven't ridden until you've ridden on a Harley,baby." He sneezed, coughed, and gagged in perfect imitation. Savannah pushed his arm, forgetting for a moment her bruised fist. When it hurt, she yelped and glared accusingly at him. "It was you doing all that to him! That poor man-you damaged his ego for life. Each time he touched me, he had a sneezing fit." Gregori raised an eyebrow, completely unrepentant. "Technically,he did not lay a hand on you.He sneezed before he could get that close.
Christine Feehan (Dark Magic (Dark, #4))
God is you…me….it is everyone, everywhere. It is a life force, and a collective conscience. Not a singular entity with some grand power. You’ve heard the expression ‘love thy neighbor’….well that is because your neighbor is more than just someone to have compassion for. Your neighbor is actually a part of you, and when you damage them, you are damaging yourself to that degree in the larger scope of things. They are part of the collective conscience that you are.
Cynthia Lucas (Hunter (Soul Warriors, #1))
Love is the one thing that can exploit your soul to the world, and mine is already damaged enough. I don't get Prince Charming because I'm not the damsel in distress locked away in the lonely tower. I'm the fire breathing dragon guarding the gate
Monty Jay (Ice Hearts (Fury, #2))
His shoulders sag in defeat, as if he’s about to hand over his soul to me. “Do you not have any idea what you mean to me, Wren?” “I thought I did. I was certain I could pull you from that dark place inside your head. But I’m not strong enough. You and I seem to be of the same thread. Infected with the same evil that damaged us.” “I knew exactly what I was doing last night. I didn’t do it for pleasure, or some morbid form of entertainment. I did it for you. Because he hurt you. And your pain is my pain.
Keri Lake (Juniper Unraveling)
Ayağı veya kolu sakat bir adam görünce kimse onu ayıplamaz, herkes merhamet duyar, fakat ruhça sakatlanmış biri karşısında kimse merhamet duymaz, herkes irkilir! Oysa böyle bir adam hayatın asıl temel direğinden yoksun olandır. Ben işte bundan yoksundum.
Panaït Istrati (Kyra Kyralina)
People can do things completely against their nature, completely. It’s like some tiny earthquake comes roaring through your body and soul, and it’s the only earthquake you’ll ever feel. But it damages so much, cracks the foundations of your life forever. So
Sherman Alexie (The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight in Heaven)
Listen to me. Now is the time to be healthy. Treat your body and soul well. You can't see the damage you do to yourself now, but when you get old you will suffer. Give yourself a chance to be in perfect health. Be an honest and kind person. It is the only thing.
Flea (Acid for the Children)
I believe in every part of my soul that one of the most world-changing practices of love is to help create corrective experiences for people—to have them experience, in the flesh, something different than the damage they received in their family, life, or church.
Kathy Escobar (Practicing: Changing Yourself to Change the World)
I regard him anew, at last seeing him for what he is. “If you could just be who you are in here”—I place my palm over his heart—“instead of who they made you, then you would be a great Emperor.” I feel his pulse thud against my fingers. “But they won’t let you, will they? They won’t let you have compassion or kindness. They won’t let you keep your soul.” “My soul’s gone.” He looks away. “I killed it dead on that battlefield yesterday.” I think of Spiro Teluman then. Of what he said to me the last time I saw him. “There are two kinds of guilt,” I say softly. “The kind that’s a burden and the kind that gives you purpose. Let your guilt be your fuel. Let it remind you of who you want to be. Draw a line in your mind. Never cross it again. You have a soul. It’s damaged, but it’s there. Don’t let them take it from you, Elias.” His eyes meet mine when I say his name, and I reach up a hand to touch his mask. It is smooth and warm, like rock polished by water and then left to heat in the sun. I let my arm fall. Then I leave his room and walk to the doors of the barracks and out into the rising sun.
Sabaa Tahir (An Ember in the Ashes (An Ember in the Ashes, #1))
Any man who lives his life habitually without integrity does great damage to his heart, mind, and soul. Although a man may never be caught in his indiscretion, the consequences of a guilty conscience and a heavy heart are equally, if not more, damaging to a man’s freedom and liberty.
Ryan Michler (Sovereignty: The Battle for the Hearts and Minds of Men)
Can you imagine how boring life would be without the seven little spices? you talk about sloth, but why would men and women get out of bed if there were no lust? Why would people want to be in a band if they couldn't feel the rush that rage bring to the musical table? Why would anyone want to be a bleeding heart without even a hint of greed in their dirty little soul? Why would the world go round if there weren't a few rules to break? A few revolutions to make? Let's put it this way: Why would you want to take a deep breath if you were expected to hold the damn thing?
Corey Taylor (Seven Deadly Sins: Settling the Argument Between Born Bad and Damaged Good)
it's telling yourself that you want the things that society tells you you should want. women thikn that survival depends on conformity. but for some women, conformity is death. it's a death to the soul. the soul, "she said, "is a precious thing. when you live a lie, you damage the soul.
Candace Bushnell (Lipstick Jungle)
Sometimes I believe personalities are shaped more by damage than kindness. Kindness doesn’t sink as deep into your skin as the damage does. The damage stains your soul do bad, you can’t scrub it off. It stays there forever, I feel like people can see all my damage just by looking at me.
Colleen Hoover (Heart Bones)
Relax Guild Boss. You have my word of honor that I won't tell a soul about your connection to Watson Whitaker." she winked. "Frankly,though, I doubt if the story would do you any real damage if it did get out. Might even give you a boost in the popularity ratings back home. People love legends.
Jayne Castle (Ghost Hunter (Ghost Hunters, #3))
Once everyone can enrich their souls for free, government subsidies for enrichment forfeit their rationale. To object, 'But most people don't use the Internet for spiritual enrichment' is actually a damaging admission that eager students are few and far between. Subsidized education's real aim isn't to make ideas and culture accessible to anyone who's interested, but to make them mandatory for everyone who *isn't* interested . . . The rise of the Internet has two unsettling lessons . . . First: the humanist case for education subsidies is flimsy today because the Internet makes enlightenment practically free. Second: the humanist case for education subsidies was flimsy all along because the Internet proves low consumption of ideas and culture stems from apathy, not poverty or inconvenience. Behold: when the price of enlightenment drops to zero, remains embarrassingly scarce.
Bryan Caplan (The Case Against Education: Why the Education System Is a Waste of Time and Money)
The Oldfields of the future are beyond hearing; they are shut up in the factories and the workshops, leading a rackety and mechanical existence, to the damage of their bodies and the peril of their souls, for the sake of an extra pound or so a week, which they promptly spend on mental or physical narcotics.
Beverley Nichols (Merry Hall)
Retaliation does not balance things, since it harms the soul of the retaliator and creates a more severe imbalance. Socrates noticed this peril and wrote: “It is better to suffer an injustice than to commit one.” This is because the body and mind are damaged by injustice from others, but it is our own soul that is damaged by revenge. A spiritually evolved adult is not cutthroat and does not believe that all is fair in love and war. He does not claw his way to the top but acts kindly at any rung of the ladder. He has personal ambition but not at the expense of others. This is an example of a moral standard becoming more important than success in the material world. The joy of a good conscience is the highest value for those who want to grow spiritually. With spiritual practice, our attitude toward an aggressor becomes compassion for the suffering dimension in his aggression. This response also serves to quiet him down.
David Richo (The Five Things We Cannot Change: And the Happiness We Find by Embracing Them)
There are two kinds of guilt,” I say softly. “The kind that’s a burden and the kind that gives you purpose. Let your guilt be your fuel. Let it remind you of who you want to be. Draw a line in your mind. Never cross it again. You have a soul. It’s damaged, but it’s there. Don’t let them take it from you, Elias.
Sabaa Tahir (An Ember in the Ashes (An Ember in the Ashes, #1))
Come to me in the dark, bring me all of your scars. I want to know every crack in your heart, every ache, every memory that haunts you. I want to see the realness in your face, the way your eyes stay light even when you talk of pain, and the way your lips are uneven when you smile. The grooves carved into your soul have made you beautiful and I want to run my fingers across the etches. I know people cover wounds and disguise their damage, but this is what makes you, you, and I want to know you. I want to sink inside of you and feel your depth. Don’t protect me from your story. We all have a story and I’m tired of drowning alone.
Jacqueline Simon Gunn
Polly asked him questions that were full of guile, and very deep—for she wanted to trap him into damaging revealments. Like many other simple-hearted souls, it was her pet vanity to believe she was endowed with a talent for dark and mysterious diplomacy, and she loved to contemplate her most transparent devices as marvels of low cunning. Said she: "Tom, it was middling warm in school, warn't it?" "Yes'm." "Powerful warm, warn't it?" "Yes'm." "Didn't you want to go in a-swimming, Tom?" A bit of a scare shot through Tom—a touch of uncomfortable suspicion. He searched Aunt Polly's face, but it told him nothing. So he said: "No'm—well, not very much.
Mark Twain (The Adventures of Tom Sawyer)
Not a single family finds itself exempt from that one haunted casualty who suffered irreparable damage in the crucible they entered at birth. Where some children can emerge from conditions of soul-killing abuse and manage to make their lives into something of worth and value, others can’t limp away from the hurts and gleanings time decanted for them in flawed beakers of memory. They carry the family cross up the hill toward Calvary and don’t mind letting every other member of their aggrieved tribe in on the source of their suffering. There is one crazy that belongs to each of us: the brother who kills the spirit of any room he enters; the sister who’s a drug addict in her teens and marries a series of psychopaths, always making sure she bears their children, who carry their genes of madness to the grave. There’s the neurotic mother who’s so demanding that the sound of her voice over the phone can cause instant nausea in her daughters. The variations are endless and fascinating. I’ve never attended a family reunion where I was not warned of a Venus flytrap holding court among the older women, or a pitcher plant glistening with drops of sweet poison trying to sell his version of the family maelstrom to his young male cousins. When the stories begin rolling out, as they always do, one learns of feuds that seem unbrokerable, or sexual abuse that darkens each tale with its intimation of ruin. That uncle hates that aunt and that cousin hates your mother and your sister won’t talk to your brother because of something he said to a date she later married and then divorced. In every room I enter I can sniff out unhappiness and rancor like a snake smelling the nest of a wren with its tongue. Without even realizing it, I pick up associations of distemper and aggravation. As far as I can tell, every family produces its solitary misfit, its psychotic mirror image of all the ghosts summoned out of the small or large hells of childhood, the spiller of the apple cart, the jack of spades, the black-hearted knight, the shit stirrer, the sibling with the uncontrollable tongue, the father brutal by habit, the uncle who tried to feel up his nieces, the aunt too neurotic ever to leave home. Talk to me all you want about happy families, but let me loose at a wedding or a funeral and I’ll bring you back the family crazy. They’re that easy to find.
Pat Conroy (The Death of Santini: The Story of a Father and His Son)
More often than not, these attempts at sociability ended in painful silence. His old friends, who remembered him as a brilliant student and wickedly funny conversationalist, were appalled by what had happened to him. Tom had slipped from the ranks of the anointed, and his downfall seemed to shake their confidence in themselves, to open the door onto a new pessimism about their own prospects in life. It didn't help matters that Tom had gained weight, that his former plumpness now verged on an embarrassing rotundity, but even more disturbing was the fact that he didn't seem to have any plans, that he never spoke about how he was going to undo the damage he'd done to himself and get back on his feet. Whenever he mentioned his new job, he described it in odd, almost religious terms, speculating on such questions as spiritual strength and the importance of finding one's path through patience and humility, and this confused them and made them fidget in their chairs. Tom's intelligence had not been dulled by the job, but no one wanted to hear what he had to say anymore, least of all the women he talked to, who expected young men to be full of brave ideas and clever schemes about how they were going to conquer the world. Tom put them off with his doubts and soul-searchings, his obscure disquisitions on the nature of reality, his hesitant manner. It was bad enough that he drove a taxi for a living, but a philosophical taxi driver who dressed in army-navy clothes and carried a paunch around his middle was a bit too much to ask. He was a pleasant guy, of course, and no one actively disliked him, but he wasn't a legitimate candidate?not for marriage, not even for a crazy fling.
Paul Auster (The Brooklyn Follies)
Psychological death is the key to all romances, isn't it? If the two lovers don't get together, they will each miss out on their "soul mate." Their lives will be incurably damaged. Since readers of traditional romances know they're going to end up together, it's all the more important to create this illusion of imminent psychological death.
James Scott Bell (Write Your Novel From the Middle: A New Approach for Plotters, Pantsers and Everyone in Between)
This false solution is last for a reason. Doing without is the final resting place of many who have tried the first six false solutions. It is where people go who have given up hoping for relationship. It is a place of quiet despair. When doing the same, the opposite, too much, nothing, for others, and to yourself fall through, you are left looking at yourself, alone, in a mirror. The very isolation of the dilemma is a judgment on you. It judges in several ways, telling you things like: You aren’t meant for safe people. You don’t qualify. You’ve been asking for too much. You can’t get it right. You are too damaged to have relationships. You aren’t spiritual enough. Typically, people who are trying this last false solution don’t make a big fuss about things. They get their lives in order. They bury themselves in work, service, or other worthwhile venues. And they try not to think about what they’re doing without. The disconnected part of the soul isn’t a very rude or demanding entity. It tends to die quietly, gradually withering away like a starving infant. After a period of time, you may no longer even be able to feel the pain of isolation. At that point, less pain but more damage is occurring. If you are in this position, part of you is still alive. You’re reading this book—even if you’re weary, cynical, and with no hope. But you are taking a step.
Henry Cloud (Safe People: How to Find Relationships That Are Good for You and Avoid Those That Aren't)
You are protected, in short, by your ability to love!" said Dum-bledore loudly. "The only protection that can possibly work against the lure of power like Voldemort's! In spite of all the temptation you have endured, all the suffering, you remain pure of heart, just as pure as you were at the age of eleven, when you stared into a mir-ror that reflected your heart's desire, and it showed you only the way to thwart Lord Voldemort, and not immortality or riches. Harry, have you any idea how few wizards could have seen what you saw in that mirror? Voldemort should have known then what he was dealing with, but he did not! But he knows it now. You have flitted into Lord Voldemort's mind without damage to yourself, but he cannot possess you with-out enduring mortal agony, as he discovered in the Ministry. I do not think he understands why, Harry, but then, he was in such a hurry to mutilate his own soul, he never paused to understand the incomparable power of a soul that is untarnished and whole." "But, sir," said Harry, making valiant efforts not to sound argu-mentative, "it all comes to the same thing, doesn't it? I've got to try and kill him, or —" "Got to?" said Dumbledore. "Of course you've got to! But not because of the prophecy! Because you, yourself, will never rest until you've tried! We both know it! Imagine, please, just for a moment, that you had never heard that prophecy! How would you feel about Voldemort now? Think!" Harry watched Dumbledore striding up and down in front ol him, and thought. He thought of his mother, his father, and Sinus. He thought of Cedric Diggory. He thought of all the terrible deeds he knew Lord Voldemort had done. A flame seemed to leap inside his chest, searing his throat. "I'd want him finished," said Harry quietly. "And I'd want to do it." "Of course you would!" cried Dumbledore. "You see, the prophecy does not mean you have to do anything! But the prophecy caused Lord Voldemort to mark you as his equal. ... In other words, you are free to choose your way, quite free to turn your back on the prophecy! But Voldemort continues to set store by the prophecy. He will continue to hunt you . . . which makes it certain, really, that —" "That one of us is going to end up killing the other," said Harry. "Yes." But he understood at last what Dumbledore had been trying to tell him. It was, he thought, the difference between being dragged into the arena to face a battle to the death and walking into the arena with your head held high. Some people, perhaps, would say that there was little to choose between the two ways, but Dumble-dore knew — and so do I, thought Harry, with a rush of fierce pride, and so did my parents — that there was all the difference in the world.
J.K. Rowling (Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince (Harry Potter, #6))
Survival is more than burying the damage, it is about befriending it - it is about being thankful for how, at a point in your life, it created graveyards within you. For when you look back, you will finally understand that it is nothing short of incredible, how you managed to emerge like wildflowers, from the cemeteries you held within your soul.
Bianca Sparacino (Seeds Planted in Concrete)
Many of us who have found ourselves to be useful in Christian service have found ourselves unable, if we’re honest, to connect with God any other way. We do for him, instead of being with him. We become soldiers, instead of brothers and sisters and daughters and sons. This is dangerous, damaging territory, and I’ve spent too much time there. These
Shauna Niequist (Present Over Perfect: Leaving Behind Frantic for a Simpler, More Soulful Way of Living)
Sometimes your ego and your inner mind say, “Well, if I let it go, what’s going to prevent them from hurting me again? I am opening myself up and making myself vulnerable. They will take advantage of me.” No one is telling you to be naïve. Nobody is saying that you should be stupid or foolish. There is an old adage, “Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.” Just because you forgave someone does not mean that you forgot what they did to you. You can forgive someone and also be smart enough to know that you need to move on. You are going to surrender that situation away. Maybe it’s time for you to let go of that person, if they are consistently hurting you. You have to forgive yourself so you can let that person go. It is just your guilty feelings that are holding you back and allowing the damage to be done to you. You are not forgiving yourself enough or being considerate enough to let go of this person. It is also your ego that is holding you back. It takes a lot of contemplation to realize this. It takes a lot of deep soul searching. Again,
Eric Pepin (Silent Awakening: True Telepathy, Effective Energy Healing and the Journey to Infinite Awareness)
Telling women that we do not matter as much as men do is dehumanizing and damaging to the soul. The way that Christianity has appropriated and erased Jewish history and culture and practiced anti-Semitism is dehumanizing. So, decolonization is a spiritual matter just as it is a physical, mental, social, and political one. We have to see it in a holistic light.
Kaitlin B. Curtice (Native: Identity, Belonging, and Rediscovering God)
LOVE: Deception of the flesh and damage to the spirit. Disease of the soul, atrophy of the brain, weakening of the heart, corruption of the senses, poetic lies from which one gets ferociously inebriated two or three times a day in order to consume this precious but stupid life more quickly. And yet I would prefer to die of love. Its the only swindler, after Judas, that can kill with a kiss.
Renzo Novatore (Toward the Creative Nothing and other writings)
a completely unhinged, typhon-souled, damaged Romeo wo would break your bed, heart, and resolve if you let him. not maliciously, no. And not because he wants to. He simply cannot help himself. H e would wreck everything in his way. This misunderstood, beautiful, brilliant boy who is burdened with gifts he never asked for, but unwrapped nonetheless. His talent, charm, and beauty are a weapon, and right now they're aimed at me
L.J. Shen (In the Unlikely Event)
In the Celtic world, and especially in the Celtic world of the senses, there was no barrier between soul and body. Each was natural to the other. The soul was the sister of the body, the body the sister of the soul. As yet there was no negative splitting of dualistic Christian morality, which later did so much damage to these two lovely and enfolded presences. The world of Celtic consciousness enjoyed this unified and lyrical sensuous spirituality
John O'Donohue (Anam Cara: A Book of Celtic Wisdom)
This seat taken?" My eyes grazing over the only other occupant, a guy with long glossy dark hair with his head bent over a book. "It's all yours," he says. And when he lifts his head and smiles,my heart just about leaps from my chest. It's the boy from my dreams. The boy from the Rabbit Hole,the gas station,and the cave-sitting before me with those same amazing,icy-blue eues, those same alluring lips I've kissed multiple times-but only in slumber, never in waking life. I scold my heart to settle,but it doesn't obey. I admonish myself to sit,to act normal, casual-and I just barely succeed. Stealing a series of surreptitious looks as I search through my backpack, taking in his square chin,wide generous lips,strong brow,defined cheekbones, and smooth brown skin-the exact same features as Cade. "You're the new girl,right?" He abandons his book,tilting his head in a way that causes his hair to stream over his shoulder,so glossy and inviting it takes all of my will not to lean across the table and touch it. I nod in reply,or at least I think I do.I can't be too sure.I'm too stricken by his gaze-the way it mirrors mine-trying to determine if he knows me, recognizes me,if he's surprised to find me here.Wishing Paloma had better prepared me-focused more on him and less on his brother. I force my gaze from his.Bang my knee hard against the table as I swivel in my seat.Feeling so odd and unsettled,I wish I'd picked another place to sit, though it's pretty clear no other table would have me. He buries his smile and returns to the book.Allowing a few minutes to pass,not nearly enough time for me to get a grip on myself,when he looks up and says, "Are you staring at me because you've seen my doppelganer roaming the halls,playing king of the cafeteria? Or because you need to borrow a pencil and you're too shy to ask?" I clear the lump from my throat, push the words past my lips when I say, "No one's ever accused me of being shy." A statement that,while steeped in truth, stands at direct odds with the way I feel now,sitting so close to him. "So I guess it's your twin-or doppelganer,as you say." I keep my voice light, as though I'm not at all affected by his presence,but the trill note at the end gives me away.Every part of me now vibrating with the most intense surge of energy-like I've been plugged into the wall and switched on-and it's all I can do to keep from grabbing hold of his shirt, demanding to know if he dreamed the dreams too. He nods,allowing an easy,cool smile to widen his lips. "We're identical," he says. "As I'm sure you've guessed. Though it's easy enough to tell us apart. For one thing,he keeps his hair short.For another-" "The eyes-" I blurt,regretting the words the instant they're out.From the look on his face,he has no idea what I'm talking about. "Yours are...kinder." My cheeks burn so hot I force myself to look away,as words of reproach stampede my brain. Why am I acting like such an inept loser? Why do I insist on embarrassing myself-in front of him-of all people? I have to pull it together.I have to remember who I am-what I am-and what I was born to do.Which is basically to crush him and his kind-or,at the very least,to temper the damage they do.
Alyson Noel (Fated (Soul Seekers, #1))
But then one day I hear him doing the dishes, and here's what I do not think: Yes! No, there is no yes at all. I think: He is running the water too long. He'll damage my nice pan. He doesn't know where anything goes. I am so accustomed to thinking of him as unwilling and unable - useless - that I find it is very hard to stop...I have to fight the impulse to go into the kitchen and take over, or oversee. The impulse is not an abstraction. It feels like an itch inside my fingers.
Nina Renata Aron (Good Morning, Destroyer of Men's Souls: A Memoir of Women, Addiction, and Love)
killing is the ultimate expression of hatred and fear, as sex is the ultimate expression of romantic love and desire. And, as with sex, killing a stranger who has otherwise provoked no emotion is inherently unnatural. I suppose you could say that a man who kills a stranger is not unlike a woman who has sex under analogous circumstances. That a man who is paid to kill is like a woman who is paid to fuck. Certainly the man is subject to the same reluctance, the same numbing, the same regrets. The same damage to the soul.
Barry Eisler (A Lonely Resurrection (John Rain, #2))
No human being was ever meant to be the source of personal joy and contentment for someone else. And surely, no sinner is ever going to be able to pull that off day after day in the all-encompassing relationship of marriage! Your spouse, your friends, and your children cannot be the sources of your identity. When you seek to define who you are through those relationships, you are actually asking another sinner to be your personal messiah, to give you the inward rest of soul that only God can give. Only when I have sought my identity in the proper place (in my relationship with God) am I able to put you in the proper place as well. When I relate to you knowing that I am God’s child and the recipient of his grace, I am able to serve and love you. I have the hope and courage to get my hands dirty with the hard work involved when two sinners live together. And you are able to do the same with me! However, if I am seeking to get identity from you, I will watch you too closely, listen to you too intently, and need you too fundamentally. I will ride the roller coaster of your best and worst moments and everything in between. And because I am watching you too closely, I will become acutely aware of your weaknesses and failures. I will become overly critical, frustrated, disappointed, hopeless, and angry. I will be angry not because you are a sinner, but because you have failed to deliver the one thing I seek from you: identity. But none of us will ever get the well-being that comes from knowing who we are from our relationships. Instead, we will be left with damaged relationships filled with hurt, frustration, and anger. Matt
Timothy S. Lane (Relationships: A Mess Worth Making)
We usually think that envy happens over one's appearance, wealth, status. But that's not what causes intense forms of envy. Intense forms of envy are caused by one's energy: the atmosphere you bring into a room, the way your eyes glisten and sparkle when you laugh from your soul, the way another person's eyes glisten and sparkle when they mention your name. Envy of your energy can be the most damaging form of harshness you'll ever become victim of. People will do ANYTHING to rob you of the soul - space you inhabit. Anything to dull that glow in your eyes.
C. JoyBell C.
Darkness my beloved home, I return! I return, not whole, but damaged. Fatigued by quixotic tendencies, The prodigal has come back famished. An outer world, so hostile and strange Filled immensely with ignorant natives The land where all good is forgotten Where hatred itself is life’s matrix. Though I’ve brought an odd mystery, An enigma that requires my genius A phenomenon, in foreign land; A veiled embodiment of Venus. Since, I’ve craved for my sanctuary, I have returned to you, oh darkness! Now I will restore my lost vigor to Unravel demeanors of this goddess. But..... Why am I estranged to this darkness? Maybe I’ve been away for too long, But shouldn’t home always feel home? Why am I in dire need to belong? As if this soul is deprived of life As if this body is in swift decay As if this mind screams for peace As if this heart calls to be lured ‘way Unwise, to have brought the goddess, When she is of a different realm Unfortunate, to have fallen in love, As she leaves to retain her helm Perhaps, this home lies deep within For everything is, but mere illusion Hence, I’ll reside her in my heart; To feel her, even in seclusion.
Zubair Ahsan
Tell me this- if you could have a guarantee that your child would be a National Merit Scholar and get into a prestigious college, have good work habits and a successful career, but that your relationship with him would be destroyed in the process, would you do it? Why not? Because you are made to love, that's why. We care about our relationships more than about our accomplishments. That's the way God made us. Then why don't we live that way? Why, come a damp and gloomy day in March, do we yell over a  math lesson or lose our temper over a writing assignment? Why do we see the lessons left to finish and get lost in an anxiety-ridden haze? We forget that we are dealing with a soul, a precious child bearing the Image of God, and all we can see is that there are only a few months left to the school year and we are still only halfway through the math book. When you are performing mommy triage- that is, when you have a crisis moment and have to figure out which fire to put out first- always choose your child. It's just a math lesson. It's only a writing assignment. It's a Latin declension. Nothing more. But your child? He is God's. And the Almighty put him in your charge for relationship. Don't damage that relationship over something so trivial as an algebra problem. And when you do (because you will, and so will I), repent. We like to feed our egos. When our children perform well, we can puff up with satisfaction and pat ourselves on the back for a job well done. But as important as it is to give our children a solid education (and it is important, don't misunderstand me), it is far more important that we love them well.  Our children need to know that the most important thing about them is not whether they finished their science curriculum or score well on the SAT. Their worth is not bound up in a booklist or a test score. Take a moment. Take ten. Look deep into your child's eyes. Listen, even when you're bored. Break out a board game or an old picture book you haven't read in ages. Resting in Him means relaxing into the knowledge that He has put these children in our care to nurture. And nurturing looks different than charging through the checklist all angst-like. Your children are not ordinary kids or ordinary people, because there are no ordinary kids or ordinary people. They are little reflections of the
Sarah Mackenzie (Teaching from Rest: A Homeschooler's Guide to Unshakable Peace)
that rotten feeling of antlike industry. There is really no need to belabor the point, since it is obvious to most of us these days that mathematics has taken possession, like a demon, of every aspect of our lives. Most of us may not believe in the story of a Devil to whom one can sell one’s soul, but those who must know something about the soul (considering that as clergymen, historians, and artists they draw a good income from it) all testify that the soul has been destroyed by mathematics and that mathematics is the source of an evil intelligence that while making man the lord of the earth has also made him the slave of his machines. The inner drought, the dreadful blend of acuity in matters of detail and indifference toward the whole, man’s monstrous abandonment in a desert of details, his restlessness, malice, unsurpassed callousness, money-grubbing, coldness, and violence, all so characteristic of our times, are by these accounts solely the consequence of damage done to the soul by keen logical thinking! Even back when Ulrich first turned to mathematics there were already those who predicted the collapse of European civilization because no human faith, no love, no simplicity, no goodness, dwelt any longer in man.
Robert Musil (The Man Without Qualities)
That's what love is. It's taking a leap of faith. It's opening yourself up and letting your walls down and allowing someone to see every dark and broken corner of your soul. It's truth and honesty with yourself and them. It's raw and brutal and terrifying and real. You can't just claim to want it, but refuse to allow yourself to be vulnerable to it. That's not how it works. If you love someone, truly love them, you'll bear your soul to them and let them be the keeper of your heart no matter how fragile or damaged it might be. And if they love you then they'll do everything in their power to keep it safe, to nurture and protect it and heal over all the old wounds.
Caroline Peckham, Susanne Valenti
There’s a force that can be equally as damaging as a gun because it means life or death not just to the body but to the soul, and every human being is issued one at birth. It’s called the mouth. Proverbs says, “The tongue has the power of life and death, and those who love it will eat its fruit” (Prov. 18:21 NIV). Words are powerful. So much of our baggage—self-esteem, pride, trust, and envy—has been planted in our souls by the words that important people in our life used. With words self-esteems are shaped. Wars started. Murders initiated. Divorces sealed. Children crushed. And while we are sensitive about the words that come to us, we are often careless about what comes out.
Pete Wilson (Let Hope in: 4 Choices That Will Change Your Life Forever)
From all that I’ve read, what Harry did to Riddle’s diary was one of the few really foolproof ways of destroying a Horcrux.” “What, stabbing it with a basilisk fang?” asked Harry. “Oh well, lucky we’ve got such a large supply of basilisk fangs, then,” said Ron. “I was wondering what we were going to do with them.” “It doesn’t have to be a basilisk fang,” said Hermione patiently. “It has to be something so destructive that the Horcrux can’t repair itself. Basilisk venom only has one antidote, and it’s incredibly rare--” “--phoenix tears,” said Harry, nodding. “Exactly,” said Hermione. “Our problem is that there are very few substances as destructive as basilisk venom, and they’re all dangerous to carry around with you. That’s a problem we’re going to have to solve, though, because ripping, smashing, or crushing a Horcrux won’t do the trick. You’ve got to put it beyond magical repair.” “But even if we wreck the thing it lives in,” said Ron, “why can’t the bit of soul in it just go and live in something else?” “Because a Horcrux is the complete opposite of a human being.” Seeing that Harry and Ron looked thoroughly confused, Hermione hurried on, “Look, if I picked up a sword right now, Ron, and ran you through with it, I wouldn’t damage your soul at all.” “Which would be a real comfort to me, I’m sure,” said Ron. Harry laughed. “It should be, actually!
J.K. Rowling (Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows (Harry Potter, #7))
I've often thought that among all the afflicting sights of the world, none can be much more so than this one short walk along three city blocks, where night after night it's possible to see--indeed, it's impossible not to see--these faces from which hope and joy and dignity and light have been draining so steadily and for so long that now there is nothing left but this assortment of indifferent, damaged masks. They belong to human beings who, after a lifetime of struggling to become one thing or another, have succeeded only in becoming the rough sketches of their species, recognizable but empty, the bruised and wretched bodies and souls of the saddest people on earth: the people who no longer care.
Edwin O'Connor (The Edge of Sadness)
I think the soul anguish we get when we are not in agreement with our twin is caused by any relative disconnection between the two minds. It's a lack of harmony. That is why it is best to back off and not do anything. Allow space between the twins so the differences don't cause anguish to the two. It's like a nut and bolt that don't quite fit together, forcing them together only causes damage. Internal re-tooling may be necessary, whether it happens during the current earthly phase or at some time after. Both twins need to be of the same mind in order for full fruition to occur. If they are not, there will be friction rather than fruition, to whatever extent there is a lack of harmony between the twins.
Sienna McQuillen
We are all damaged now,’ said Arvida, watching the approach. ‘All but you.’ Yesugei sat back against the curve of the hull. ‘No living thing is undamaged.’ ‘Yet you still smile. You still believe.’ ‘So do the rest. They need to remember, that is all. For now, all they see is slow defeat. They forget they have been... magnificent. They fight alone when all others are lost or manning walls far away. They come at enemy out of the glare of the sun. They have made him halt, turn back, come after us. They have forsaken the world they loved, have let it pass into ruin, all for this.’ Yesugei thought of Qin Xa then, from whom there had never been a murmur of unbelief. ‘They will remember, before the end. Other Legions have failed this test – they let their souls change.
Chris Wraight (The Path of Heaven (The Horus Heresy #36))
Spiritual mindedness releases the flow of God’s life in you, but carnal mindedness shuts it off. Simply stated, carnal mindedness = death, and spiritual mindedness = life and peace (Rom. 8:6). “Death” means “anything that’s a result of sin.” This isn’t limited only to the ultimate physical death of your body but includes all of death’s progressive effects as well (i.e., sadness, loneliness, bitterness, illness, anger, poverty, etc.). In this fallen world, being dominated by your natural senses produces death. But spiritual mindedness produces life and peace! Jesus declared, “The words that I speak unto you, they are spirit, and they are life” (John 6:63). When your thoughts are dominated by what the Word says, you’re spiritually minded. It doesn’t matter what your physical circumstances might be—God can keep you in perfect peace! “Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on thee: because he trusteth in thee” (Is. 26:3). As your mind stays on Him, your soul agrees with your spirit, and God’s peace is released into your soul and body. Your born-again spirit is always in perfect peace—it’s just a matter of drawing it out! On the other hand, you won’t experience the peace within when your mind stays fixed on your problems. Peace—an emotion—is linked to the way you think! Your lack of peace isn’t because of any circumstance or person; it’s just that you’ve allowed your mind to be dominated by what you can see, taste, hear, smell, and feel. You’re busy thinking about the potential damage, considering what the problem has done to others, and hashing through their opinions on the subject. All the while, God’s peace has been present in your spirit, but you haven’t drawn it out. Open that closed valve and let peace flow!
Andrew Wommack (Spirit, Soul and Body)
Father, thank you for giving us a new birth in spite of our sin and rebellion. Lord, part of us longs to be holy and sinless, but there is much in us that still cherishes our sin and clings to it. Please help us to hate our sin and run from it. As you draw us toward heaven, open our eyes and help us to see how offensive our sin is to you, and how damaging it is to us. When we are dazzled by the alluring temptations of sexual and nonsexual sins, teach us that you are the only feast that satisfies our souls deeply and permanently. Fill us with awe and wonder that you give us the radiant robes of your Son’s perfection to wear, and carry us to a place of high honor for his glory. Thank you that you have begun a good work in us that nothing can stop, and that one day we will stand before you in the bliss of sinless perfection as Christ’s beautiful bride. We give thanks for this in Jesus’ name, amen.
Barbara R. Duguid (Prone to Wander: Prayers of Confession and Celebration)
No doubt it often happens that a child possesses qualities of his ancestors which were perhaps missing in his parents, or even two or three generations back; however, this is another heritage, a heritage which is known to us as such. I might express this by saying that a soul borrows a property from the spheres of the jinn, and a more concrete property from the physical world; and as it borrows this property, together with this transaction it takes upon itself the taxation and the obligations as well as the responsibilities which are attached to the property. Very often the property is not in proper repair, and damage has been done to it, and it falls to his lot to repair it; and if there be a mortgage on that property that becomes his due. Together with the property he becomes the owner of the records and the contracts of the property which he owns. In this is to be found the secret of what is called Karma.
Hazrat Inayat Khan (The Way of Illumination (The Sufi Teachings of Hazrat Inayat Khan Book 1))
One day Lot went into Sodom, took office, tried to reform the evil city, succeeded in vexing his righteous, but unspiritual soul with the filthy conversation of the wicked, got down to the level of the natural man, lost his testimony and seemed to his friends and intimates like a madman or the most excuselessly inconsistent trifler when he attempted to take up once more his damaged testimony. Then there was a night when God’s angels came and snatched him out of the doomed city. The next morning the fire of God fell and Lot “saved so as by fire” looked on at the blaze and the burning of all his works of righteousness as wood hay and stubble, big in bulk but rejected of God. Looking forward to His Second Coming and backward for an illustration the Son of God declared as it was in the days of Lot so should it be when the Son of man should come again. There are good and righteous Christians—righteous enough but wholly unspiritual who are seeking to make spotless town of a world God has judged and doomed, failing to see the cross is not only the judgment of the individual, but equally the judgment of the world; that not only does the cross reveal the end of all flesh but the end in God’s sight of that system of things which men call the world; that on the cross the world is crucified to the Christian and the Christian to the world; and failing to see this, failing to get the mind of God are daily descending to the plane of the natural man, are losing and in many cases deliberately setting aside the testimony once for all delivered to the saints. Without warning, they will be snatched away to meet a descending Lord (if they be real and regenerated Christians) and this alone because their faith be it never so small holds them securely in the bonds of the covenant. After that the Lord will be revealed in flaming fire to execute judgment on the world and all the works of misguided social reformers because these works are built, not upon the righteousness of God, but the righteousness of man.
Isaac Massey Haldeman (Why I Preach the Second Coming)
Fantasy is reality. Aristotle says that music is the most realistic of the arts because it represents the movements of the soul directly. Surely the mode of fantasy (which includes many genres and effects) is the only way in which some realities can be treated. I grew up in United States in the 1950s, in a world in which fantasy was supposed to be the opposite of reality. 'Rational,' 'mature' people were concerned only with a narrowly defined 'reality' and only the 'immature' or the 'neurotic' (all-purpose put-downs) had any truck with fantasy, which was then considered to be wishful thinking, escapism, and other bad things, attractive only to the weak and damaged. Only Communists, feminists, homosexuals and other deviants were unsatisfied with Things As They Were at the time and Heaven help you if you were one of those. I took to fantasy like a duckling to water. Unfortunately for me, there was nobody around then to tell me that fantasy was the most realistic of arts, expressing as it does the contents of the human soul directly.
Joanna Russ (How to Suppress Women's Writing)
In everyone's inner solitude there is that bright and warm hearth. The idea of the unconscious, even though it is a very profound and wonderful idea, has sometimes frightened people away from coming back to their own hearth. We falsely understand the subconscious as the cellar where all our repression and self-damage is housed. Out of our fear of ourselves we have imagined monsters down there. Yeats says, "Man needs reckless courage to descend into the abyss of himself." In actual fact, these demons do not account for all the subconscious. The primal energy of our soul holds a wonderful warmth and welcome for us. One of the reasons we were sent to earth was to make this connection with ourselves, this inner friendship. The demons will haunt us, if we remain afraid. All the classical mythical adventures externalize demons. In battle with them, the hero always grows, ascending to new levels of creativity and poise. Each inner demon holds a precious blessing that will heal and free you. To receive this gift, you have to lay aside your fear and take the risk of loss and change that every inner encounter offers.
John O'Donohue (Anam Cara: A Book of Celtic Wisdom)
Dear Orphan Soul, I never thought it is was easy to wipe away your tears when you are used to crying endlessly on the inside. Today was the first time ever that I felt a sense of relief. I laughed for the first time in a long time, or maybe my first time ever. I used to think I was permanently damaged, but Nurse Hope told me that it is okay for me to be myself. However, I do not know who I am. All my life, my mind and actions have been like loaded guns. I never knew when or where the bullets were coming from—most of the time, they came from someone else, and sometimes they came from me. My eyes are wet with tears as I write because of my life struggles. Sadness still remains because Nurse Hope says this is not permanent. Well, to give myself hope, nothing lasts forever. Therefore, nothing in life is permanent. Right? I am an orphaned soul. Nurse Hope's love reminds me of the ocean’s tide. It is a cycle of crashes as it knocks against the stones and shells as it gradually rolls up on the shore. I wonder if her love is going to say farewell to Kace and me as it sucks and pulls itself back into the ocean. Well, we’ve been washed up since we’ve been born. I hope instead of the tides sucking Nurse Hope's love away, I hope it sucks up our memories as they fade away with the tides, never to be found or returned again. Nothing is permanent.
Charlena E. Jackson (Pinwheels and Dandelions)
When He Needs to Understand the Power of His Own Words Death and life are in the power of the tongue, and those who love it will eat its fruit. PROVERBS 18:21 MANY MEN DON’T FULLY COMPREHEND the power and impact of their words. Just by reason of being male, a man’s voice has the strength to be intimidating. A man can say something casually, carelessly, or insensitively without even realizing that he has frightened or hurt someone. Not all men use their voice to that degree, but many do. A man has the power to heal or harm the heart of those to whom he speaks, and never is that more true than within his marriage and family. What your husband says to you or your children—and the way he says it—can build up or tear down. His words can strengthen family relationships or break them apart. You cannot have a successful and fulfilling marriage when your husband is careless or thoughtless in the words he speaks or the manner in which he speaks them. When a husband speaks hurtful words to his wife, he strikes her soul with a damaging blow far greater than he may realize. If your husband ever does that, pray he will understand his potential to intimidate or even wound. Ask God to help your husband hear what he is saying and the way he says it even before he says it. The book of Proverbs says, “He who guards his mouth preserves his life, but he who opens wide his lips shall have destruction” (13:3). Pray that God will fill your husband’s heart with an abundance of His love, patience, kindness, and goodness so that they overflow in the words he speaks to you and your children. If your husband has never hurt another with his words, then thank God for that and pray he never will. Pray that his gentle spirit will rub off on the other men around him. My Prayer to God LORD, I pray You would lead my husband in the way he speaks to me and our family. Help him to build up with his words and not tear down. Teach him to bless and not curse, to encourage and not discourage, to inspire and not intimidate. I pray when he must speak words that are hard for others to hear, help him speak them from a kind heart. Your Word says that out of the overflow of our hearts we speak (Matthew 12:34). If ever his heart is filled with anger, resentment, or selfishness, I pray he will see that as sin and repent of it. Fill him instead with an abundance of Your love, peace, and joy. Help him to understand that “life and death are in the power of the tongue” and there are consequences to the words he says (Proverbs 18:21). Where my husband has been abusive or hurtful in the words he has spoken to me, I pray You would convict his conscience about that and cause him to see the damage he is doing to me and to our marriage. If I have spoken words to him that have caused harm to our relationship, forgive me. Enable me to speak words that will bring healing. Help us both to think carefully about what we say to each other and to our children and how we say it (Proverbs 15:28). Enable us to always consider the consequences of the words we speak. I know we have a choice about what we say and the way we say it. Help us both to always make the right choice. In Jesus’ name I pray.
Stormie Omartian (The Power of a Praying Wife Devotional)
There is a good deal of the Nietzschean standpoint in this verse. It is the evolutionary and natural view. Of what use is it to perpetuate the misery of tuberculosis, and such diseases, as we now do? Nature's way is to weed out the weak. This is the most merciful way, too. At present all the strong are being damaged, and their progress hindered by the dead weight of the weak limbs and the missing limbs, the diseased limbs and the atrophied limbs. The Christians to the Lions! Our humanitarianism, which is the syphilis of the mind, acts on the basis of the lie that the King must die. The King is beyond death; it is merely a pool where he dips for refreshment. We must therefore go back to Spartan ideas of education; and the worst enemies of humanity are those who wish, under the pretext of compassion, to continue its ills through the generations. The Christians to the Lions! Let weak and wry productions go back into the melting-pot, as is done with flawed steel castings. Death will purge, reincarnation make whole, these errors and abortions. Nature herself may be trusted to do this, if only we will leave her alone. But what of those who, physically fitted to live, are tainted with rottenness of soul, cancerous with the sin-complex? For the third time I answer: The Christians to the Lions! Hadit calls himself the Star, the Star being the Unit of the Macrocosm; and the Snake, the Snake being the symbol of Going or Love, the Dwarf-Soul, the Spermatozoon of all Life, as one may phrase it. The Sun, etc., are the external manifestations or Vestures of this Soul, as a Man is the Garment of an actual Spermatozoon, the Tree sprung of that Seed, with power to multiply and to perpetuate that particular Nature, though without necessary consciousness of what is happening. (―New Comment on Liber AL vel Legis III:48)
Aleister Crowley (Magical and Philosophical Commentaries on The Book of the Law)
Democracy’s brand was also damaged by America’s reaction to the Al Qaeda attacks in 2001. George W. Bush’s response to 9/11 dealt a twin blow to Western democracy’s allure. The first came in the form of the Patriot Act, which paved the way for spying on American citizens and gave the green light to multiple dilutions of US constitutional liberties. That imperative was then extended to America’s relations with any country, democratic or not, which pledged to cooperate in the ‘war on terror’. Autocrats such as Putin and Pakistan’s Pervez Musharraf went from pariahs to soul brothers almost overnight. When the Bush administration said ‘You are either with us or against us,’ it was referring to the opening of ‘black sites’ where the CIA could waterboard terrorist suspects, and the no-questions-asked exchanges of terrorist lists against which there was little prospect of appeal – a practice known in international law as refoulement. This gave undemocratic regimes an excuse to logroll domestic opponents onto the international lists, with devastating effects on political rights around the world. In the decade after 9/11, the number of Interpol red notices rose eightfold.3 Such practices belied Bush’s democratic agenda. For example, it robbed the US of the moral standing to criticise the Shanghai Cooperation Organization, a China-backed body of central Asian autocracies that today operates its own refoulement exchanges of political dissidents in the name of counter-terrorism. The Bush administration’s approach was also geopolitically shortsighted. Just as the West’s support for the Afghan jihad against the Soviets in the 1980s laid the ground for the rise of Islamist terrorism, so America’s Faustian post-9/11 pacts with autocratic regimes helped sow the seeds for the world’s current democratic recession. That is certain to deepen under Trump.
Edward Luce (The Retreat of Western Liberalism)
28 When I Must Rethink My Expectations My soul, wait silently for God alone, for my expectation is from Him. PSALM 62:5 WE WIVES TOO OFTEN come into our marriage with great expectations of what our mate is going to be like and who he will become. We see things we want to see, and we don’t always see the things we should. Because our expectations are so high, when our husband doesn’t live up to them we can’t hide our disappointment. It comes out in moodiness, discontent, disrespect, disdain, critical words, and the ever-popular silent treatment. A wife can become the victim of her own misplaced expectations, and her husband pays for it. King David had it right when he told his soul to wait quietly for the Lord and put his expectations in Him. We must do the same. Your husband can only be who he is. You cannot put expectations on him to fulfill you in ways that only God can do. Your husband simply can’t be everything to you—nor is he supposed to be—but God can be. And He wants to be. Has your husband fulfilled every expectation you have had of him? If not, tell God about it and ask Him to fulfill those needs instead. Of course, there are certain expectations you should have of your husband, such as fidelity, love, kindness, financial support, protection, and decency. If he cannot, or won’t, provide those things for you, he is not living up to what God expects of him either. But beyond that, if you are constantly disappointed in your husband, ask God to show you whether you should be looking to your Lord and Savior, instead of your husband, for everything you need. My Prayer to God LORD, show me any expectations I have of my husband that are unfair, and for which I should be looking to You to provide instead. I know he cannot meet my every emotional need—and I should not expect him to—but You can. I look to You for my comfort, fulfillment, and peace. I thank You for all the good things my husband provides for me, and I ask You to keep me from being critical of him for not being perfect. Lord, help me to wait quietly for You to provide what I need, for I put all my expectations in You. For everything I have expected from my husband and have been disappointed because he couldn’t provide, I now look to You. If I have damaged my husband’s self-respect in any way because I have made him feel that I am disappointed in him, I confess that to You as sin. Help me to apologize and make that up to him. Bring restoration, and heal any and all wounds. Where there are certain things I should expect of him as a husband and he has failed to provide, help me to forgive him. I release him into Your hands to become who You made him to be and not what I want him to be. Help me to keep my expectations focused on You so I can live free of expectations I have no right to put on him. In Jesus’ name I pray.
Stormie Omartian (The Power of a Praying Wife Devotional)
I’m the living dead. I feel no connection to any other human. I have no friends and I don’t really care much about my family any longer. I feel no love for them. I can feel no joy. I’m incapable of feeling physical pleasure. There’s nothing to ever look forward to as a result. I don’t miss anyone or anything. I eat because I feel hunger pangs, but no food tastes like anything I like. I wear a mask when I’m with other people but it’s been slipping lately. I can’t find the energy to hide the heavy weight of survival and its effect on me. I’m exhausted all the time from the effort of just making it through the day. This depression has made a mockery of my memory. It’s in tatters. I have no good memories to sustain me. My past is gone. My present is horrid. My future looks like more of the same. In a way, I’m a man without time. Certainly, there’s no meaning in my life. What meaning can there be without even a millisecond of joy? Ah, scratch that. Let’s even put aside joy and shoot for lower. How about a moment of being content? Nope. Not a chance. I see other people, normal people, who can enjoy themselves. I hear people laughing at something on TV. It makes me cock my head and wonder what that’s like. I’m sure at sometime in my past, I had to have had a wonderful belly laugh. I must have laughed so hard once or twice that my face hurt. Those memories are gone though. Now, the whole concept of “funny” is dead. I stopped going to movies a long time ago. Sitting in a theater crowded with people, every one of them having a better time than you, is incredibly damaging. I wasn’t able to focus for that long anyway. Probably for the best. Sometimes I fear the thought of being normal again. I think I wouldn’t know how to act. How would I handle being able to feel? Gosh it would be nice to feel again. Anything but this terrible, suffocating pain. The sorrow and the misery is so visceral, I find myself clenching my jaw. It physically hurts me. Then I realize that it’s silly to worry about that. You see, in spite of all the meds, the ketamine infusions and other treatments, I’m not getting better. I’m getting worse. I was diagnosed 7 years ago but I’m sure I was suffering for longer. Of course, I can’t remember that, but depression is something that crept up on me. It’s silent and oppressive. I don’t even remember what made me think about going to see someone. But I did and it was a pretty clear diagnosis. So, now what? I keep waking up every morning unfortunately. I don’t fear death any more. That’s for sure. I’ve made some money for the couple of decades I’ve been working and put it away in retirement accounts. I think about how if I was dead that others I once cared for would get that money. Maybe it could at least help them. I don’t know that I’ll ever need it. Even if I don’t end it myself, depression takes a toll on the body. My life expectancy is estimated to be 14 years lower as a result according to the NIH. It won’t be fast enough though. I’m just an empty biological machine that doesn’t know that my soul is gone. My humanity is no more
Ahmed Abdelazeem
When he lifted his head, Savannah nearly pulled him back to her. He watched her face, her eyes cloudy with desire, her lips so beautiful, bereft of his. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are, Savannah? There is such beauty in your soul, I can see it shining in your eyes.” She touched his face, her palm molding his strong jaw. Why couldn’t she resist his hungry eyes? “I think you’re casting a spell over me. I can’t remember what we were talking about.” Gregori smiled. “Kissing.” His teeth nibbled gently at her chin. “Specifically, your wanting to kiss that orange-bearded imbecile.” “I wanted to kiss every one of them,” she lied indignantly. “No, you did not. You were hoping that silly fop would wipe my taste from your mouth for all eternity.” His hand stroked back the fall of hair around her face. He feathered kisses along the delicate line of her jaw. “It would not have worked, you know. As I recall, he seemed to have a problem getting close to you.” Her eyes smoldered dangerously. “Did you have anything to do with his allergies?” She had wanted someone, anyone, to wipe Gregori’s taste from her mouth, her soul. He raised his voice an octave. “Oh, Savannah, I just have to taste your lips,” he mimicked. Then he went into a sneezing fit. “You haven’t ridden until you’ve ridden on a Harley, baby.” He sneezed, coughed, and gagged in perfect imitation. Savannah punched his arm, forgetting for a moment her bruised fist. When it hurt, she yelped and glared accusingly at him. “It was you doing all that to him! The poor man— you damaged his ego for life. Each time he touched me, he had a sneezing fit.” Gregori raised an eyebrow, completely unrepentant. “Technically, he did not lay a hand on you. He sneezed before he could get that close.” She laid her head back on the pillow, her ebony hair curling around his arm, then her arm, weaving them together. His lips found her throat, then moved lower and found the spot over her breast that burned with need, with invitation. Savannah caught his head firmly in her hands and lifted him determinedly away from her before her treacherous body succumbed completely to his magic. “And the dog episode?” He tried for innocence, but his laughter was echoing in her mind. “What do you mean?” “You know very well what I mean,” she insisted. “When Dragon walked me home.” “Ah, yes, I seem to recall now. The big bad wolf decked out in chains and spikes, afraid of a little dog.” “Little? A hundred-and-twenty-pound Rottweiler mix? Foaming at the mouth. Roaring. Charging him!” “He ran like a rabbit.” Gregori’s soft, caressing voice echoed his satisfaction. He had taken great pleasure in running that particular jackass off. How dare the man try to lay a hand on Savannah? “No wonder I couldn’t touch the dog’s mind and call him off. You rotten scoundrel.” “After Dragon left you, I chased him for two blocks, and he went up a tree. I kept him there for several hours, just to make a point. He looked like a rooster with his orange comb.” She laughed in spite of her desire not to. “He never came near me again.” “Of course not. It was unacceptable,” he said complacently, with complete satisfaction, the warmth of his breath heating her blood.
Christine Feehan (Dark Magic (Dark, #4))
Mazel Amsel- I have the obsession of destroying Nevaeh, she is so perfect, I cannot stand it! My girls have to be on top, and I am never going to let her be anything, I will make sure of it! That is what I have been doing for years. Nevaeh that no good little pussy licker; even if she knows it is me, she will not be able to ‘Prove it.’ I am just that well-liked by everyone, I am so powerful that no one will ever defeat me. I am the master manipulator, Nevaeh- yes, she is the tower! She is about for a hundred pounds, unnatural blond hair, lime green glowing eyes, and a voice that bellows! To me, she looks like a bulldog in the face, yet evil wicked witch-like also, yet to everyone else she blends in, to the others she looks as they do, just a normal mom, with normal kids. Yet I think she is crumbling, I think some people are seeing through her veil, because of what happened recently. Mazel- I have everyone wrapped around my little finger. Likewise, if they do not bow down to me, I will make their life a living hell. That is the way; I have to have it, all the time for Nevaeh! I have to know what she is doing at all times. I have to hack into her social networking and get her pears to think she is a ‘Creep’ and ‘Stocker’ to young girls. So, she has no friends at all. So, my girls can be the supreme of this area, so that they can do as they please, without anyone stopping them from being the best, no matter what, and from getting what they want, and what I want for them. Besides, foremost I wanted to make sure that she would never date anyone. So, I came up with the story of telling everyone that she was into girls and that she is just plain crazy. I should know my eyes are on her always. I did not want to see her go to proms; I did not want to see her succeed. I did not want her to be loved. I would like to see her die, and not walk away from it. I have dreamed of ways to kill her repeatedly. Like this one, I would like to see her be impaled on a sharp wooden stick, starting through her butt hole, and then slowly have gravity have it go up into her delicious miniature body until it hits her brain, and she screams out my girl’s names, as we get what we need. I would love to see a Nevaeh- kabob! I would love to see her stoned out in the open with rocks! I would love to see my girls bite their nipples off with their teeth! I want to see my girl claw her up to head to toe. I hunger to see them scratch her sweet blue eyes that are so heavenly right out of her face! I want to see her gush that cobalt blood like a waterfall from her naked sliced-up body. Yes, I want us to torture her any way we can until she says yes to us. We are going to get at anything of hers we can until she comes with us! As we would, all dance around her, as we would light her up, cheerfully for the last time. How I would love to bleach and fry that perfect hair with chemicals. I and we all in our family want to fuck her up and down anyways we can! Mwah Ha, ha! Yes, Beforehand, we all would kiss, touch, lick, and stick her, and do what we want to get the life from her by sucking away. We would eat her soul away as it would come down from the heavens then through her body, and into ours, as we would drink it out, the way we do. Yes, yes, hell- yes, I can see it now! Yes, I want her soul! Besides, anything or everything I can get out of her to add to my shrine. We even have a voodoo doll of her with pins in it. I have a few things of hers like her hymen-damaged red blood tarnished pink polka-dotted gym underwear, and her indigo pantiliner she had on. That my girl ripped off of her in school, the more things we have the more we can control her mind, but I want more!
Marcel Ray Duriez
Beloved, we need God. We will always need Him. He is the infinite pursuit. The endless wellspring of life. The unceasing source. He is the constant bliss, joy, and peace of being. Without His presence the soul extends itself toward other things, lesser things, things that can never satisfy, and if they are tolerated, they will inflict great damage.
Eric Gimour (Union)
Love is never worthless. Never believe that your love makes no difference. Even if you can’t see its impact, the impact is there, if only in the way that it affects your own soul.
Ovadya ben Malka (A Damaged Mirror)
Holding unforgiveness in my heart and expecting it to hurt my abusers was the equivalent of drinking poison myself and expecting it to kill the other guy. I thought I was punishing them, but in reality I wasn’t doing any damage to them—I was only doing damage to my own soul and to my walk with Jesus.
Perry Noble (Unleash!: Breaking Free from Normalcy)
the time has come and so have I,I'll laugh cause you come to die.The damage done the pain subsides and I see the fear clean when I look in your eyes. I never kneel and I'll never rest you can tear the heart from my chest. I'll make you see what I do best,I'll succeed as you breathe your very last breath. Now I know how the angel fell,I know the late and I know it too well. I'll make you wish you had a soul to sell, when I strike you down and send you straight to hell.my army comes from deep within beneath my soul,beneath my skin as you're ending I'm about to begin. I will never give in!!! I'll tell you now I'm the one to survive you never break my faith or my stride. I'll have you choke on your own demise, I make the angel scream and the devil cry.
Abir Berrahal
…when you look at her, your heart starts slamming uncontrollably in your chest. So much that it scares you. And every other noise that surrounds you slowly fades away into absolute silence. You only hear the sounds she makes. And when she looks back at you, when her eyes meet yours, it’s as if she is looking deep inside your soul. And she can see all of the hatred you’re consumed in. Her eyes quench the thirst of your soul, gently soothing your damaged heart in the most alluring way… a way you could only dream of.” His peaceful face started to fill with pain. “Then those magical eyes start to look away. The time-freeze you were caught in starts to wear off. And fear takes over. You want to pull those eyes to yours again so that you could once again feel the fascinating sensations of happiness. Then, when she’s out of your sight, you feel empty inside. Your heart is back to normal. Only this time, it’s left with an aching worse than before. But you can never tell her. You can never be with her. You are alone in your pitiful existence-
E.M. Jade (Captivated (An Affliction Novel, #1))
After all, killing is the ultimate expression of hatred and fear, as sex is the ultimate expression of romantic love and desire. And, as with sex, killing a stranger who has otherwise provoked no emotion is inherently unnatural. I suppose you could say that a man who kills a stranger is not unlike a woman who has sex under analogous circumstances. That a man who is paid to kill is like a woman who is paid to fuck. Certainly the man is subject to the same reluctance, the same numbing, the same regrets. The same damage to the soul.
Barry Eisler (A Lonely Resurrection (John Rain, #2))
All segregation statutes are unjust because segregation distorts the soul and damages the personality. It gives the segregator a false sense of superiority and the segregated a false sense of inferiority. Segregation, to use the terminology of the Jewish philosopher Martin Buber, substitutes an “I-it” relationship for an “I-thou” relationship and ends up relegating persons to the status of things.
Bryan Loritts (Letters to a Birmingham Jail)
To borrow the words of Jean-Marie Lustiger, the great French churchman, '[How] can we claim to be Christians when we continue to live like pagans?' But we're often worse than pagans. True pagans had a reverence for nature and the gods. Today we worship ourselves and our tools. That sin defaces the world. It also kills our ability to see things as they really are. Simple blades of grass in heaven cause the visiting souls from hell so much pain in C.S. Lewis's The Great Divorce because they're too real to bear for creatures made unreal by their own delusions. Consumer culture - the world we live in every day - is deeply ani-Christian not just in its gluttony and its exclusion of the needs of others, but also in its damage to the mature, self-thinking self.
Charles J. Chaput (Strangers in a Strange Land: Living the Catholic Faith in a Post-Christian World)