Cant Hurt Me Novel Quotes Novels & Stories

Diana continued insulting me. I lowered my head, taking their insults at me, my body trembling withstood their new blows. Hurting someone with words indeed hurts more than hurting them physically. If the physical wound can still be treated, but the hurt in the feeling is too difficult to heal, "I'm not a bum," I said, shaking. I hold back my tears from coming out.

-Karen- “As Bart said, I’m stubborn and you of all people should know that! I want to do things myself despite my injuries. The pain, no matter how great, reminds me that I’m still fighting even though I may want to give up sometimes.” I whispered hugging him tighter. I can never repay your kindness, Conor. Even if I did everything you asked of me in ten lifetimes, it would never equal the great kindness you have shown me since day one.

I wouldn’t be his slave but he would be mine because he already gave up on his life and I was the one fighting for it. I jumped from my bed and stared at the moon; it felt gentle tonight. It was like it consoled me. I wouldn’t let his words discourage me. Even if his sentences were hurtful and his phrases but quotes, I wouldn’t let them get to me. My feelings already hurt me with the simple idea of losing him. Anything that would discourage me, let me make it all taboo!

“Don’t ever forget that. No matter what anyone says or does… you’re the best thing in my life, Ethan. I’d burn everything down before I let anyone hurt you like they hurt Catherine.” Tears slipped down his face. It was pleasure, pain, and emotion, all mixed together. He came first with a strangled shout, spilling over my fist and onto the floor. His asshole clenched so tight around me that I followed right after, burying myself as deep as I could and filling him up with a long, guttural groan.

As soon as I saw Tania sitting next to him, I turned away, touching my scarred cheek to remind myself that I had been through worse in my life and I got through all of it just fine. ‘Hunter-and-Tania-kissing-under-a-tree’ was not even a fifth of the hell my stepfather put me through when I was younger. I’m older now. Stronger. Wiser. “What doesn’t kill you, only makes you stronger,” I whispered. “What doesn’t kill you makes you want to kill it in return,” Chaise suggested, overhearing me. I raised a brow at him. “Sorry, I’m more of a ‘do-unto-others-what-they- do-unto-you’ kind of guy.”

And I sit there. Naked. Bloodied. Hardly breathing. Her name on my tongue like a prayer I don’t deserve to say. Catalina. I wanted her warmth. Her softness. Her loyalty. And I took it from someone else. Dirtied her name with it. Because I’m too much of a coward to go home. I punched the wall once. Twice. Until the plaster cracks. I don’t scream. I just bleed. Because this rage? This sickness in my gut?

"If the hurt comes, so will the happiness. So don't ever lose hope." [Jacqueline] ..... [Jacqueline's POV] I stared at him stunned. His words were spoken with so much determination that I felt the intensity of his emotions behind the words. His eyes were throwing daggers at me. I had never explained this much to anyone. Neither did I ever warn anyone. It wasn't me. What's wrong with me? Now I seem to have made another enemy? I should have stuck to my mantras of channeling my emotions with a behavioral alteration. I shouldn't have yelled it aloud. I shouldn't have screamed myself hoarse. I glanced down at myself feeling heavily embarrassed, my white kurta had a shoe print on them, a gift from

She rubbed the salt right on my scar and left me to bear the pain. I had to grit my teeth in anger and let my knuckle bear the impact as I clutched it to white. " Such a cunny sly b*tch* I muttered.

I just sat there waiting for any consequences that was to befall me. Since Vincent died, I don't care about what the rest of the people do or say to me. I have gone through even more painful things than just mere abuses. I stod up so exhausted as I stood up pouring juice into a glass and giving it to her. She at first takes a sip , contemplating it for some time and then pouring it straight onto my face.

Luciano’s cold, cutting words echoed in my mind, steadily dismantling any lingering doubts. “If you want to survive in this unforgiving place, you have to fight for yourself and reclaim what’s yours,” he had said, his voice low and threatening. That chilling statement resonated deeply within me, serving as an unexpected wellspring of strength and determination. Each word became a mantra, propelling me to embrace my own power and resilience in the face of adversity.