Bruised Quotes - Page 4

• When he went blundering back to God, His songs half written, his work half done, Who knows what paths his bruised feet trod, What hills of peace or pain he won? I hope God smiled and took his hand, And said, "Poor truant, passionate fool! Life’s book is hard to understand: Why couldst thou not remain at school?" A poem by Charles Hanson Towne

  Mitch Albom

  Song, Pain, Book

  Mitch Albom (2009). “For One More Day”, p.11, Hachette UK

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• They are not brave, the days when we are twenty-one. They are full of little cowardices, little fears without foundation, and one is so easily bruised, so swiftly wounded, one falls to the first barbed word. To-day, wrapped in the complacent armour of approaching middle age, the infinitesimal pricks of day by day brush one but lightly and are soon forgotten, but then—how a careless word would linger, becoming a fiery stigma, and how a look, a glance over a shoulder, branded themselves as things eternal.

  Daphne du Maurier

  Fall, Brave, Age

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• Christ is building His kingdom with earth's broken things. Men want only the strong, the successful, the victorious, the unbroken, in building their kingdoms; but God is the God of the unsuccessful, of those who have failed. Heaven is filling with earth's broken lives, and there is no bruised reed that Christ cannot take and restore to glorious blessedness and beauty. He can take the life crushed by pain or sorrow and make it into a harp whose music shall be all praise. He can lift earth's saddest failure up to heaven's glory.

  J.R. Miller

  Inspirational, Strength, God

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• when you want something so desperately, you shake with the need for it. you tell yourself that you don't need more than one sip, because it's just the taste you crave, and once it's on your tongue you will be able to make it last alifetime. you dream of it at night. you see a thousand mile-high obstacles between where you stand and what you want, and you convince yourself you have the power to hurdle them. you tell yourself this even when, leaping the first block, you wind up bruised and bloodied and flattened.

  Jodi Picoult

  Dream, Block, Night

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• Adrian Ivashkov: "Rose Hathaway, I can't wait to see you again. If you're this charming while tired and annoyed and this gorgeous while bruised and in ski clothes, you must be devastating at your peak." Rose Hathaway: "If by 'devastating' you mean that you should fear for your life, then yeah. You're right.

  Richelle Mead

  Tired, Mean, Clothes

  Michelle Rowen, Richelle Mead (2011). “Vampire Academy: The Ultimate Guide”, p.38, Penguin

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• You're bruised, as ugly as one of your Cyclops, and I can barely stand to look at you." - Duncan to Madelyne.

  Julie Garwood

  Looks, Ugly, Duncan

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• ...and our footsteps rang and echoed till it sounded like the room was full of dancers, the house calling up all the people who had danced here across centuries of spring evenings, gallant girls seeing gallant boys off to war, old men and women straight-backed while outside their world disintegrated and the new one battered at their doors, all of them bruised and all of them laughing, welcoming us into their long lineage.

  Tana French

  Girl, Spring, War

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• But death was sweet, death was gentle, death was kind; death healed the bruised spirit and the broken heart, and gave them rest and forgetfulness; death was man’s best friend; when man could endure life no longer, death came and set him free.

  Mark Twain

  Sweet, Heart, Men

  Mark Twain (1973). “What Is Man? and Other Philosophical Writings”, p.443, Univ of California Press

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• They were bullyin' him, Hermione, 'cause he's so small!" said Hagrid. "Small?" said Hermione. "Small?" "Hermione, I couldn't leave him," said Hagrid, tears now trickling down his bruised face into his beard. "See -- he's my brother!

  J. K. Rowling

  Brother, Tears, Beard

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• You're not the way everyone says you are," Kaye said, looking at him so fiercely that he couldn't meet her gaze. "I know you're not." "You know nothing of me," he said. He wanted to punish her for the trust he saw on her face, to raze it from her now so that he would be spared the sight of her when that trust was betrayed. He wanted to tell her he found her impossibly alluring, at least half enchanted, body bruised and scratched, utterly unaware she would not live past dawn. He wondered what she would say in the face of that.

  Holly Black

  Past, Sight, Dawn

  Holly Black (2008). “Tithe: A Modern Faerie Tale”, p.188, Simon and Schuster

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• The best remedy for a bruised heart is not, as so many people think, repose upon a manly bosom. Much more efficacious are honest work, physical activity, and the sudden acquisition of wealth.

  Dorothy L. Sayers

  Heart, Thinking, People

  Dorothy L. Sayers (2012). “Have His Carcase”, p.6, Open Road Media

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• Holding her gaze, he closed the final distance between them and went down to his knees, that beautiful bruised face looking up at her.

  Nalini Singh

  Beautiful, Distance, Finals

  Nalini Singh (2012). “Nalini Singh: Guild Hunters Novels 1-4”, p.1200, Penguin

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• And that's when I realised that a mans' ego was like fruit; easily bruised.

  Lauren Kate

  Ego, Fruit, Realised

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• ...you are battered and bruised in the collisions between reminiscence and reality.

  David Eagleman

  Reality, Collision, Battered

  David Eagleman (2009). “Sum: Forty Tales from the Afterlives”, p.110, Vintage

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• All right, then. Emergency medical situation, take two.” He leaped to his feet, staggered, keeled over, then lifted his head weakly. “Chloe? Is that you?” He coughed. “Do you have my insulin?” I placed it in his outstretched hand. “You saved my life,” he said. “How can I ever repay you?” “Undying servitude sounds good. I like my eggs scrambled.” He held up a piece of fruit. “Would you settle for a bruised apple?” I laughed.

  Kelley Armstrong

  Hands, Eggs, Two

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• You knocked the door down." Disbelief rang in his matter-of-fact tone. "I know," she answered,unable to say anything else. Unable to look away from his body. "But it's solid oak." "I know." She felt the solid oak beneath her and a little shocked that she'd done it, too. If it mattered at all, her shoulder felt a little bruised. And it was the slight pain that brought some reality back into the moment. "You don't have any clothes on." Oh, God, did she really say that?

  C.C. Hunter

  Pain, Reality, Doors

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• Love and hate hold hands always so it made natural sense that they'd get confused by upset married folk in the wee hours once in a while and a nosebleed or bruised breast might result. But it just seemed proof that a great foulness was afoot in the world when a no-strings roll in the hay with a stranger led to chipped teeth or cigarette burns on the wrist.

  Daniel Woodrell

  Hate, Confused, Hands

  Daniel Woodrell (2012). “Winter's Bone”, p.32, Hachette UK

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• I was afraid. Of getting hurt in other ways. To be truthful, I still am." His thumb stroked her cheek. "I would never hurt you." "I don't think you can promise me that." She squeezed his bruised fingers. "But it makes things a bit more equal, to know that I can hurt you, too." His gaze fell to her lips. He said simply, without any trace of irony, "You are killing me.

  Tessa Dare

  Hurt, Thinking, Promise

  Tessa Dare (2010). “One Dance with a Duke”, p.213, Ballantine Books

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• A wretched soul, bruised with adversity, We bid be quiet when we hear it cry; But were we burdened with light weight of pain, As much or more we should ourselves complain.

  William Shakespeare

  Pain, Adversity, Light

  William Shakespeare, William Dodd (1854). “The Beauties of Shakespeare. [By W. Dodd.]”, p.19

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• Because he knows you have to laugh at the things that hurt you just to keep yourself in balance, just to keep the world from running you plumb crazy. He knows there's a painful side; he knows my thumb smarts and his girlfriend has a bruised breast and the doctor is losing his glasses, but he won't let the pain blot out the humor no more'n he'll let the humor blot out the pain.

  Ken Kesey

  Running, Girlfriend, Hurt

  Ken Kesey (2016). “One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest”, p.128, Hamilton Books

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• The bird that would soar above the level plain of tradition and prejudice must have strong wings. It is a sad spectacle to see the weaklings bruised, exhausted, fluttering back to earth.

  Kate Chopin

  Strong, Wings, Bird

  Kate Chopin (1899). “The Awakening”, p.217

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• Patient endurance permits us to cling to our faith in the Lord and our faith in His timing when we are being tossed about by the surf of circumstance. Even when a seeming undertow grasps us, somehow, in the tumbling, we are being carried forward, though battered and bruised.

  Neal A. Maxwell

  Endurance, Tumbling, Surf

  Neal A. Maxwell (1991). “Men and Women of Christ”, Bookcraft Pubs

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• I will be thin and pure like a glass cup. Empty. Pure as light. Music. I move my hands over my body - my shoulders, my collarbone, my rib cage, my hip bones like part of an animal skull, my small thighs. In the mirror my face is pale and my eyes look bruised. My hair is pale and thin and the light comes through. I could be a lot younger than seventeen. I could be a child still, untouched.

  Francesca Lia Block

  Children, Moving, Eye

  Francesca Lia Block (2009). “The Hanged Man”, p.14, Harper Collins

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• Heroes didn't leap tall buildings or stop bullets with an outstretched hand; they didn't wear boots and capes. They bled, and they bruised, and their superpowers were as simple as listening, or loving. Heroes were ordinary people who knew that even if their own lives were impossibly knotted, they could untangle someone else's. And maybe that one act could lead someone to rescue you right back.

  Jodi Picoult

  Hero, Simple, Hands

  Jodi Picoult (2003). “Second Glance”, p.450, Simon and Schuster

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• But we had with us, to keep and to care for, more than five hundred bruised bodies of men- men made in the image of God, marred by the hand of man and must we say in the name of God? And where is the reckoning for such things? And who is answerable? One might almost shrink from the sound of his own voice, which had launched into the palpitating air words of order- do we call it? - fraught with such ruin. Was it God's command we heard or His forgiveness we must forever implore?

  Joshua Chamberlain

  Men, Air, Hands

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