Quotes About Emotional Scars Novels & Stories

But here I was, cracked open by the softest touch and the quiet presence of the one person I never thought I’d trust. “It hurts,” I said, my voice a ragged whisper. I didn’t look at her, couldn’t. “I’ve been holding it in so long. I forgot what it’s like to say that out loud.” She didn’t flinch or pull away. Instead, she leaned closer, her voice tender and calm, like a balm itself. “It’s okay. Scars are meant to hurt.” Her fingers brushed my hand gently, reassuring. “You know, my grandma used to say… no medicine in the world could heal a scar better than love.”

Instead, she raises her shirt up exposing her back, revealing a pattern of wide scars scattered across her skin out of reach from her tattoos, as if her tattoos where their frame. I feel lost for words as my eyes scan over her faded markings, feeling unable to grasp how anyone could survive receiving so much trauma when she lowers her shirt and turns around, shrugging as if they were nothing. As if they held no control over her. “I like to think of mine as my battle scars. Each one standing for what I’ve overcome, you know? Think of yours as the same. It’s not every day you came across a badass wolf who’s survived two serious neck injuries. Hell, girl, you’re a bloody miracle!” she bursts in

N O T E A scar is the mark of a story that, on the surface, is private. It is an implication of what lies beneath and within. Complete scar removal is not possible, but most scars will gradually fade over time. Scars are a natural part of the healing process. Most will fade although they never completely disappear. At times, emotions and memories are stored so well that they can’t be recalled on command. Alternately, the psyche veils itself with trauma that has left its mark and overcompensates to dissociate from trauma. The scar is a container and a

That song, was the mark that means the end of the game. She cried and cried her eyes out in joy. 'Thank god,' she said inside her heart. 'I have survived another day of the hunt.' —

“No.” “Why?” “I think it’s beautiful only because it’s free and alive. You take away any of those and its beauty wouldn’t ever be the same again.” “Why not?” “Because then it will have scars and no matter how much you glorify scars, they’ll always be ugly to the one carrying them, an eternal reminder of something they wish to forget…” “I’ll make sure it doesn’t get hurt when I cage it.” “There has been no cage that hasn’t wounded the one inside it, and not all wounds are visible,” I said.

Her tears soaking into his shoulder while he murmured soft reassurances against her hair. "I thought I was broken," she whispered when she could speak again. "Thought all these marks meant I was damaged beyond repair. That no one would want me once they saw how much I'd been hurt." "You're not broken." Carlos pulled back enough to look at her, his hands framing her face. "You're scarred. There's a difference. Broken means can't function. Scarred means survived something that tried to destroy you and kept going anyway. And that's not weakness. That's the strongest thing I've ever witnessed."

Flora looked off, lost in thought for a long, long time before she ever spoke again," I flash back my father saying to me,' Honor is not bestowed — it's earned with every scar, every immolation.' But I wonder, however, if I am fated to bear those scars, if every decision I make is just leading me further down a path of keeping a oath I noway swore." Vincent set his mug gently on the table." You see, I believe the scars define us. They're proof that we were there, that we survived. perhaps what you are searching for is not leaving your history behind, but to claim it — to use it to drive the person you want to be."

It was time for them to begin their journey to the North. She was grateful to have Nick by her side the previous night when she had an outburst. He embraced her as she sobbed uncontrollably in his chest. He quoted the words of a wise man, “the passage of time will heal all wounds, but the greater the loss, the deeper the cut, and the more difficult the process to become whole again.” He also told her that if she wanted to experience real change, she had to rise above her emotional exhaustion. The pain may fade, but it leaves scars that serve as reminders of her sufferings.

I wasn’t sure. "My papa used to say scars represent our past. Scars make us strong and powerful." A small smile played on her lips as she spoke. “He said if you see someone with scars, don’t underestimate them.” I swallowed, watching her intently. A comfortable numbness spread through my chest. "You're a good man sometimes… boss," she mumbled, her eyes searching mine. My brows furrowed. “Don’t judge me quickly, Iris,” I warned, my voice low. “Words can’t be taken back.”

She has the right to cover all mirrors and wish that blindness will be granted to her, so that she does not see every day the horror of what she has been through for all these two centuries of her life. He looked up at her, smiling cunningly “These scars testify to your pride, your violence, and your warrior and fighting spirit. These scars are a source of pride for me, because every time I see them, I will remember how much you were able to withstand that damn devil, how brave you were, and stood by his path and not succumb to him.”