Wounded Quotes - Page 5

• I felt a splinter of guilt wedge into my heart. Charlotte had hurt me; in return, I'd hurt Rob. Maybe that's what we do to the people we love: take shots in the dark and realize too late we've wounded the people we're trying to protect.

  Jodi Picoult

  Hurt, Heart, Dark

  Jodi Picoult (2009). “Handle with Care: A Novel”, p.252, Simon and Schuster

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• He told me once that there was no better faith than a wounded faith and sometimes I wonder if that is what he was doing all along --trying to wound his faith in order to test it--and I was just another stone in the way of his God.

  Colum McCann

  Order, Trying, Stones

  Colum McCann (2009). “Let The Great World Spin”, p.244, Bloomsbury Publishing

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• Has anyone ever won an argument with you? (Syd) Just Tee, and I was drunk and wounded at the time. (Joe)

  Sherrilyn Kenyon

  Drunk, Argument, Tees

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• Love is never easy. We begin by loving the things we can, according to our stature, but it is not long before we find that what we love is other than ourselves and that our love is no protection against being wounded. Do we then speak to dominate what we love, to make it bend to our will, to stop it from hurting us even though to do so is to betray love? And that is only where the difficulty begins.

  Alison Croggon

  Hurt, Love Is, Long

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• The owl flies, in the moonlight, over a field where the wounded cry out. Like the owl, I fly in the night over my own misfortune.

  Georges Bataille

  Night, Owl, Fields

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• You got guts taking that tone with me. (Nykyrian) What you gonna do, oh great wounded one? I’m the one with the injector. (Syn)

  Sherrilyn Kenyon

  Tone, Guts

  Sherrilyn Kenyon (2009). “Born of Night”, p.209, Macmillan

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• Reproach is infinite, and knows no end So voluble a weapon is the tongue; Wounded, we wound; and neither side can fail For every man has equal strength to rail.

  Homer

  Men, Weapons, Tongue

  Homer (2013). “Delphi Complete Works of Homer (Illustrated)”, p.822, Delphi Classics

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• Back up shall we? When my brother, the crazy chicken warrior, turned into a falcon and went up the pyramid’s chimney with his new friend, the fruit bat, he left me playing nurse to two very wounded people—which I didn’t appreciate, and which I wasn’t particularly good at.

  Rick Riordan

  Brother, Crazy, Warrior

  Rick Riordan (2010). “The Kane Chronicles, The, Book One: Red Pyramid”, Hyperion

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• Thus thought I, as by night I read Of the great army of the dead, The trenches cold and damp, The starved and frozen camp,-- The wounded from the battle-plain, In dreary hospitals of pain, The cheerless corridors, The cold and stony floors. Lo! in that house of misery A lady with a lamp I see Pass through the glimmering gloom And flit from room to room. And slow, as in a dream of bliss, The speechless sufferer turns to kiss Her shadow, as it falls Upon the darkening walls.

  Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

  Dream, Wall, Pain

  Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1871). “The Poetical Works”, p.283

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• Strife and Confusion joined the fight, along with cruel Death, who seized one wounded man while still alive and then another man without a wound, while pulling the feet of one more corpse out from the fight. The clothes Death wore around her shoulders were dyed red with human blood.

  Homer

  Fighting, Men, Blood

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• And I will not be beaten by that jackass." "Jackass?" said Foaly, wounded. "My favorite uncle is a jackass.

  Eoin Colfer

  Uncles, Favorite Uncle, My Favorite

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• For those that were never wounded by love, they will never be able to say: “I lived”. Because they haven’t.

  Paulo Coelho

  Able, Havens

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• And then Serafina understood something for which the witches had no word: it was the idea of pilgrimage. She understood why these beings would wait for thousands of years and travel vast distances in order to be close to something important, and how they would feel differently for the rest of time, having been briefly in its presence. That was how these creatures looked now, these beautiful pilgrims of rarefied light, standing around the girl with the dirty-face and the tartan skirt and the boy with the wounded hand who was frowning in his sleep.

  Philip Pullman

  Beautiful, Girl, Distance

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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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• Her eyes take on that suspicious, wounded look girls get when they know they've fallen off the top rung of friendship and someone else has passed them, but they don't know when or how the change took place.

  Libba Bray

  Girl, Eye, Looks

  Libba Bray (2010). “A Great and Terrible Beauty”, p.77, Simon and Schuster

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• We may talk a good game and write even better ones, but we never outgrow those small wounded things we were when we were five and six and seven.

  Chris Bohjalian

  Writing, Games, May

  FaceBook post by Chris Bohjalian from Jul 29, 2016

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• Behind a rack of framed photos of Snow, we encounter a wounded Peacekeeper propped up against a strip of brick wall. He asks us for help. Gale knees him in the side of the head and takes his gun.

  Suzanne Collins

  Wall, Gun, Snow

  Suzanne Collins (2010). “Mockingjay (The Hunger Games, Book 3)”, p.340, Scholastic Inc.

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• The weak fear happiness itself. They can harm themselves on cotton wool. Sometimes they are wounded even by happiness

  Osamu Dazai

  Wool, Cotton, Sometimes

  Osamu Dazai (1973). “No Longer Human”, p.81, New Directions Publishing

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• I never heard weeping like that before or after; not from a child, nor a man wounded in the palm, nor a tortured man, nor a girl dragged off to slavery from a taken city. If you heard the woman you most hate in the world weep so, you would go to comfort her. You would fight your way through fire and spears to reach her. And I knew who wept, and what had been done to her, and who had done it.

  C. S. Lewis

  Girl, Children, Hate

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• So I thought if I stopped being so, you know, wounded, we could take a shot at just being friends. - Peeta Mellark

  Suzanne Collins

  Just Being, Shots, Catching

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• Men!" "At least we don't fake it." "Listen, it was your uncle. And we were late, remember? So I made the sacrifice and got us there in time for dessert. You should be thanking me." Morelli's mouth was open slightly and his face was registering a mixture of astonished disbelief and wounded, pissed-off male pride. Okay, it wasn't that much of a sacrifice at the time, and I knew he shouldn't be thanking me, but give me a break here... this wasn't famine in Ethiopia

  Janet Evanovich

  Uncles, Pride, Sacrifice

  Janet Evanovich (2010). “Eleven on Top”, p.192, Macmillan

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• I think I could be a perfectly decent cat. I've been around cats long enough to know what the rules of being a cat are. When all else fails, wash. And I think I could master the thing that cats do, where they stalk away pretending they meant to do whatever it was in the first place; showing their wounded dignity.

  Neil Gaiman

  Cat, Thinking, Long

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• I have always disliked the morning, it is too responsible a time, with the daylight demanding that it be 'faced' and (usually when I wake for I wake late) with the sun already up and in charge of the world, with little hope of anyone usurping or challenging its authority. A shot of light in the face of a poor waking human being and another slave limps wounded into the light-occupied territory.

  Janet Frame

  Morning, Light, Challenges

  Janet Frame (1972). “Daughter Buffalo”

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• I'll tell you what's wrong!" he roared, "I'm trying to quit smoking!" Then he strode angrily to the truck, leaving her standing there. She blinked her eyes, and slowly a smile stretched her lips. She strolled to the truck and got in. "So, are you homicidal or merely as irritable as a wounded buffalo?" "About halfway in between," he said through clenched teeth. "Anything I can do to help?" His eyes were narrow and intense. "It isn't just the cigarettes. Take off your panties and lock your legs around me, and I'll show you.

  Linda Howard

  Eye, Smoking, Leaving

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• I thought at the time that I couldn't be horrified anymore, or wounded. I suppose that's a common conceit, that you've already been so damaged that damage itself, in its totality, makes you safe.

  Lionel Shriver

  Safe, Damage, Common

  Lionel Shriver (2011). “We Need to Talk about Kevin”, p.7, Counterpoint Press

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