Broken Person Quotes Novels & Stories

"Listen to me. Really listen. You are not weapon. You are not mistake. You are not wrong. You are extraordinary. Different. Special. And yes, that makes things hard. Makes fitting in impossible. Makes normal life—difficult. But that does not make you wrong. That makes you rare. That makes you—priceless." "I do not feel priceless. I feel broken." "Broken is how we feel before we heal. Broken is temporary. Broken is—human. Everyone feels broken sometimes. Even normal people. Especially normal people. You think Marco does not feel broken? You think Sophie does not have nights where she cries and feels wrong? Everyone does. Everyone hurts. Everyone struggles. You are not alone in that. You are j

It's just that, My heart broke, And mended, With you, On the outside, And then he came, And you left, Forever. Once I was a glass figurine, perfect to the eye, fragile underneath. Since you used your words as weapons I am ground to the finest of dust - still glass, yet vulnerable to any gust. I still feel pain, so much raw pain, but I can't be broken anymore. You did your worst, but I am still here, sparkling in the midwinter light.

Nothing violent or possessive. Just tender. Real. I pulled back. Gasping. Crying harder. "I'm sorry. I can't. I want to but I can't." "It's okay. We have time." "Do we? People keep trying to kill us. Time isn't guaranteed." "Then we make the most of what we have." He wiped my tears with his thumb. The gesture so simple. So kind. "I'm broken," I said. "Flynn broke something in me I don't know how to fix."

I said as the anchor watched me slowly and then nodded. “One last question,” she said and I braced myself. “If you could say anything to the world right now, what would it be?” she continued. This time, I didn't hesitate, I turned slightly, facing the camera directly. My reflection stared back at me through the lens, but it didn't feel like the same woman anymore. “I won't be broken,” I said firmly, my voice didn't shake. “Not by lies, not by betrayal, not by anyone who thinks they can reduce me to something small. Not anymore” I said and I exhaled. The words landed with weight.

Worship made me blind. Now I see. Now I take. Now I become the kind of man who doesn’t break. Because broken things don’t bleed. They cut.

"For what? For Victoria's press conference this afternoon? For whatever new lies she's going to tell about me?" "For yourself. For the boys. For getting through this." I set down my spoon. "What if I can't get through this? What if this is the thing that finally breaks me?" "It won't." "How do you know?" "Because you've survived worse. You survived giving up Alexander. You survived almost dying in that warehouse. You survived being shot. You're the strongest person I know." "I don't feel strong. I feel broken." "Broken things can be repaired." "Not always. Sometimes they're too shattered. Too many pieces to put back together."

My Grandma died some few years ago but not after telling me everything I have to know, not after leaving a great burden on my shoulders. It was after her death that I decided to relocate. Thea tried all her best to let me stay but I told her I had to leave for my own good. I know that it is bad and very coward of me to always relocate when I am betrayed. I know I should learn to face my demons but what can a broken person really do? What good can ever come out of a broken Pieces of heart? Thea even insisted to follow me here too but I immediately turned her down and explained things clearly to her and she eventually understood.

Monique "I'm not broken," I said quietly, the words escaping my lips like a confession I wasn’t sure I believed. I wanted to... God, I wanted to. Because what is a broken person, really? Is it someone who cries at night and hides it in the morning? Someone who gives their heart to someone and watches them shatter it without warning? If so, maybe I was broken. But I didn’t want to be. “I know you’re not,” Marcus said gently, his voice solid and sure.

I think I am broken. -----------

Even a stranger could see the love in his eyes when he looked at her. “Everyone thinks I am broken or something.” He laughs harshly. “I don’t like people treating me like that, Daphne.” My hand finds his and I squeeze with encouragement. “Screw what they think. You don’t have to explain yourself or fit their idea of ‘broken.’ You’re not damaged, you are grieving. Don’t let anyone turn your grief into their drama.” Jasper's eyes crinkle at the corner with a smile. “Thank you, I really needed to hear that.”