They died hard, those savage men - like wounded wolves at bay. They were filthy, and they were lousy, and they stunk. And I loved them.
I will not eat oysters. I want my food dead - not sick, not wounded - dead.
The best people possess a feeling for beauty, the courage to take risks, the discipline to tell the truth, the capacity for sacrifice. Ironically, their virtues make them vulnerable; they are often wounded, sometimes destroyed.
You can't patch a wounded soul with a Band-Aid.
A wound that goes unacknowledged and unwept is a wound that cannot heal.
Turn your wounds into wisdom.
No person, possession, profession, or position ever fills the cup of a wounded, empty heart. It's an emptiness only God can fill.
A wounded deer leaps the highest.
Bury my heart at Wounded Knee.
Wakening from the dreaming forest there, the hazel-sprig sang under my tongue, its drifting fragrance climbed up through my conscious mind as if suddenly the roots I had left behind cried out to me, the land I had lost with my childhood - and I stopped, wounded by the wandering scent.
It is usually the imagination that is wounded first, rather than the heart; it being much more sensitive.
Leave it all in the Hands that were wounded for you
The wounded gladiator forswears all fighting, but soon forgetting his former wound resumes his arms.
As the eagle was killed by the arrow winged with his own feather, so the hand of the world is wounded by its own skill.
Americans are the great Satan, the wounded snake.
He jests at scars that never felt a wound.
I want my food dead. Not sick, not dying, dead.
We are not meant to stay wounded. We are supposed to move through our tragedies and challenges and to help each other move through the many painful episodes of our lives. By remaining stuck in the power of our wounds, we block our own transformation. We overlook the greater gifts inherent in our wounds - the strength to overcome them and the lessons that we are meant to receive through them. Wounds are the means through which we enter the hearts of other people. They are meant to teach us to become compassionate and wise.
I am tired and sick of war. Its glory is all moonshine. It is only those who have neither fired a shot nor heard the shrieks and groans of the wounded who cry aloud for blood, for vengeance, for desolation. War is hell.
The doctor is effective only when he himself is affected. Only the wounded physician heals.
Only the wounded physician heals.
When someone's wounded, the first order of business is to stop the bleeding. You can figure out later how best to help them heal.
Don't be ashamed to need help. Like a soldier storming a wall, you have a mission to accomplish. And if you've been wounded and you need a comrade to pull you up? So what?
There is no knowledge for which so great a price is paid as a knowledge of the world; and no one ever became an adept in it except at the expense of a hardened or a wounded heart.
I could endure the hunger. I had learned to live with hate. But to feel that there was feeling denied me, that the very breath of life itself was beyond my reach, that more than anything else hurt, wounded me. I had a new hunger.
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