Broken Quotes - Page 3

Love?! When a piece of broke heart hits you.

But even a vessel pulsates, beats and pumps in ecstasy and in rage!I wonder are the way we are because we are trying to protect ourselves from the “monsters” not realizing this fear that we are harboring inside us is turning us into goblins and ghouls ourselves? Not even a heart caged inside of ribs can be protected. Who can really be to blame for your broken heart?In-turn we find our own vices , our own ways to cope, ways that we petrify our bodies our lives in such a fashion so we can stop and notice the stars sparkling in the sky everything and everyone that embodies love YOUR LOVE… and every spec dancing in our own light, specs we failed to see because of our own faults.

We are bodies of broken bones. I guess I’d always known but never fully considered that being broken is what makes us human. We all have our reasons. Sometimes we’re fractured by the choices we make; sometimes we’re shattered by things we would never have chosen. But our brokenness is also the source of our common humanity, the basis for our shared search for comfort, meaning, and healing. Our shared vulnerability and imperfection nurtures and sustains our capacity for compassion.We have a choice. We can embrace our humanness, which means embracing our broken natures and the compassion that remains our best hope for healing. Or we can deny our brokenness, forswear compassion, and, as a result, deny our humanity.

Once you embrace your value, talents and strengths, it neutralizes when others think less of you.

Henri said our names were fitting because we were destined to be together in our old age, like our great-great-aunts. Two gray old ladies in the bodies of teenage girls. Someday we’d live in a big house with faded curtains, a dozen or so cats, and a handful of our marbles long ago lost. On all accounts—our destiny, her clairvoyance, and our soon-to-be missing marbles—I believed her.

Henri held herself as if only her arms could keep her pieced together, and I saw that behind all her fake control—throwing herself at a teacher, carving our dad out of her heart—was something fragile. I wish we’d seen it sooner—my dad and Mr. Flynn, they had a responsibility to see it, to do better. Those moments were my sister spinning out.

It’s not okay,” I tell her. This gets her attention; it’s not what she was expecting. “You don’t have to be okay.” “What do you want from me?” Her voice is ragged, desperate. “I want you to let yourself be broken. Let yourself hurt.” She shakes her head again. “I can’t. If I let it out, it’ll never stop.” “Yes, it will.

You realize you've forgiven people, your past and yourself when you don't speak bad about them anymore, even if you're encouraged to do so, even if you remember you were once brutally broken because of them... you just move on, let go, let them be and let yourself be...

You can’t fix who you are on your own, but God is in the business of transforming broken girls into beautiful trophies of His grace.

Stop holding on to the broken pieces of that mirror even after you are bleeding so badly, I agree that the reflections you had imagined or saw once before were beautiful but sometimes holding on to them with a hope will just continue to hurt you even more and it will never get any better.

In that moment her heart fell out of her chest. Like the glass filled vase he had brought to her, it dropped. It was shattered into a million small pieces.

Ready for the cheap escapeOn the brink of self destruction Widespread panic Broken glass inside my head Bleeding down these thoughts ~

... and I realise the only way to tell the others is through the way my voice can take these broken wordsand turn it into music. Turn it into poetry.And I sing to make myself come alive, but also for you,because I’d like this to mean something.To not disappear with the dark I will enter one day and so now I will tell.If not for you, then for my own heart, because it tells me to,and I'm learning to listen.

I count everything. Even numbers, odd numbers, multiples of 10. I count the ticks of the clock i count the tocks of the clock I count the lines between the lines on a sheet of paper. I count the broken beats of my heart I count my pulse and my blinks and the number of tries it takes to inhale enough oxygen for my lungs. I stay like this I stand like this I count like this until the feeling stops. Until the tears stop spilling, until my fists stop shaking, until my heart stops aching. There are never enough numbers.

In this abundant earth no doubtIs little room for things worn out:Disdain them, break them, throw them by!And if before the days grew roughWe once were lov'd, us'd -- well enough,I think, we've far'd, my heart and I.

For a brokenhearted person memories are the vital parts of misery

...Here lie your hopes and dreams, shattered and swept aside...

I wash myself clean of guilt, of pain, of fear, of emotion. I am the ocean. I am empty. I am nothing.

There is no greater despair, than to tread with care upon ice that is already broken

Maybe that's what writers do-Maybe they exaggerate pain just so that you feel okay about what you're feeling.

I learned the rules mastered them like a pro. Then break them easily like an artist without any trouble." ― Sage Canny

If ur laptop doesnt smell like fire then ur losing.

The day you start falling in love, with the wrecked homes and broken windows instead of running away from them. You will find a story that fills your soul, behind every burnt door.

I barely know how to be with someone when I’m whole. How the hell am I supposed to be with you when I’m so fucking broken?

We are all a little broken, looking for something whole to hang on to. But sometimes, what seems whole is even more broken than we are.

You don't need to hold them, Just let them choose if they want to stay or be free.You're not a rope,You're a magnet.

Public education is not broken. It is not failing or declining. The diagnosis is wrong, and the solutions of the corporate reformers are wrong. Our urban schools are in trouble because of concentrated poverty and racial segregation. But public education is not ‘broken.’ Public education is in a crisis only so far as society is and only so far as this new narrative of crisis has destabilized it.

The government can pass bills, but only the Great Healer can heal a broken soul

You are not broken.Someone who did not love you,convinced you, you are...

And, like the prodigal son, he had returned broken in body and also in mind to the house where he had been born, and he and his child had been welcomed with open arms.

If people feel lost and alone and helpless and broken and hopeless today, what will it be like if the world really begins to come apart at the hinges?

I'll use the blood from my spilling heart to write the words that were never able to slip out of my mouth, so you can see how much you've broken me into a perpetual state of melancholy.

Nate and me... we aren't built for truces, for good times, for light jokes and giggles. We're meant for the shadows. For the dirty, ugly, secret parts of our souls, the parts we can't hide because we know each other too well.

Not all scars show, not all wounds heal. Often we don't see, the pain someone feels.A broken heart is like having broken ribs.No one can see but hurts everytime you breathe.

Once I had a love affair with myself.I was left heart broken.

... I was feeling so depressed I didn't even think. That's the whole trouble. When you're feeling very depressed, you can't even think

This drama had become her mess to deal with, and she had no idea where to even begin trying to mend all of the broken pieces back together. If mending them was even possible.

She fixed me and broke me all at once.

I'd rather have names to hurt me, than my bones broken with sticks and stones.

If Chase's wings are broken, then mine are shattered.

She made broken look beautiful and strong look invincible.

Broken love is the most dangerous love. It will slice you open with every touch.

For Saffron," it said in shaky old writing on the damaged base, and on the other side, "Saffy's angel."Saffron, picking up the broken fragments one by one, said it didn't matter. She hugged Rose and Indigo and Caddy and Sarah, and said again and again that it didn't matter, it didn't matter at all.

Never run back to whatever broke you.

That moment when your sitting there thinking after a silent cry with tears drying on your cheeks of all that has happen and you feel like something has just sucked every bit of energy and strength out of you and wonder how you will move forward .

Strength ebbed and flowed, but brittle would break.

Your love is a kind place, and I don't deserve to stay.

Broken people are the most dangerous...because they just don't give a fuck

Ani saw herself clearly in that moment, as a face in darkness gains sudden dimensions in a flash of lightning - a young girl, a silly thing, a lapdog, a broken mare.

In Nature, things are broken with a purpose—clouds break to pour rains, rivers break to water fields, fields break to yield crops, seeds break to yield plants … so if ever you feel broken, understand that you must be part of a better and more beautiful purpose...

Even though I had been broken, I was strong enough to love again someday.

We lay on our backs, looking at the ceiling and wondering what God had wrought when He made life so sad. We made vague plans to meet in Frisco.

Everything is more whole in the end when you forgo destruction and instead repair, he reasoned. But some things can’t be repaired. His arm can’t be repaired. He will always be broken because of me.

Work on making yourself a complete being. Though you were born with the physical traits of one sex, you possess the characteristics of both - including those of plants and animals. You were created as a nearly complete universal being, but with flaws. True perfection can only be achieved when one recognizes that they need to combine their oneness with others and nature. Only then is one considered complete.

So I am not a broken heart. I am not the weight I lost or miles or ran and I am not the way I slept on my doorstep under the bare sky in smell of tears and whiskey because my apartment was empty and if I were to be this empty I wanted something solid to sleep on. Like concrete. I am not this year and I am not your fault.I am muscles building cells, a little every day, because they broke that day,but bones are stronger once they heal and I am smiling to the bus driver and replacing my groceries once a week and I am not sitting for hours in the shower anymore. I am the way a life unfolds and bloom and seasons come and go and I am the way the spring always finds a way to turn even the coldest winter into a field of green and flowers and new life. I am not your fault.

He wondered about himself (whether he was broken, or special, or better, or worse) and about other people (whether they were really all as stupid as they seemed).

My father gave me a ruined boy to compensate for the fact that he does not love me. The boy is fragile, broken—broke himself—broke everything.I asked him why he did it. He said because the world was unlivable. He said it was unlovable, but I think he meant himself. I think he meant that loneliness is sometimes painful.I curl against him, tuck my head beneath his chin and listen to his heart. It says stay and wait. It says regret. He knows what it is to want love, a love so fierce you grow roots. I hear his heart say please. He went looking for angels and found me instead, girl of the sorrows, sad but not sorry. I waited for a sign, a star to fall. He reached for a knife and drew branches.

I feel so lonely every night and every day and I still push everyone away…

A carpenter is hired- a roof repaired, a porch built. Everything that can be fixed. June, July, August. Everyday we hear their laughter. I think of the painting by van Gogh, the man in the chair. Everything wrong, and nowhere to go. His hands over his eyes.

There are no people who are whole" he says. "Everyone has issues of their own to deal with. Mine might be a little harder, but the main thing is how on deals with them.