Quotes On Emotional Scars Novels & Stories

I SURVIVED Don't ever be ashamed of the scars life has left you with. A scars mean a hurt is over and the wound is close. It means you conquered the pain , learned a lesson, grew stronger and move forward. A scar is a tattoo of triumph to be proud of . Don't allow your scars to hold you hostage. Don't allow them to make you live your life in fear. You can't make scars in your life disappear , but you can change the way you see them. You can start seeing your scars as a. Sign of strength and not of pain. ---

Chapter 1: The "Scarred One" Amelie "I, Amelie Ashwood, reject you, Tate Cozad, as my mate. I REJECT YOU!" I screamed with the last of my energy. I took the silver blade dipped in my blood to my mate mark. The searing pain my body and my wolf felt was like my heart was being ripped from my chest while being hit by a bus. I guess not all new starts are bright and shiny. The physical pain was unbearable, but my mind was clear. "I did it. I'm free." I passed out naked, bloody, and alone but free; after ten years, I was free.

Ann replied. “ I became your friend before she became your acquaintance, so you should definitely take mine too” Richard said. “Although you bullied me into becoming friends with you, I guess I could take yours too” Ann smirked. “ Wow, I hope you haven't forgotten who you are speaking to” Richard said. “ How can I forget a friend?” Ann said with sarcasm. “ Why do I get this scary feeling that I just walked into a sinking sand?” Richard said faking a shiver.

"We have scars, Liam. And sometimes... they're going to ache. Sometimes, I'm going to look at you and remember the hotel room. Sometimes, you're going to look at me and remember the empty apartment." "And then what?" he asked, his voice low. "And then," she said, "we acknowledge it. We say, 'I'm hurting today.' Or 'I'm scared today.' And we don't try to fix it immediately. We just... let it be." "We honor the scars," Liam said. "Yes," she said. "Because they remind us that we survived." She wrote it down. 4. We don't forget. She put the pen down. She pushed the pad toward him.

Or simply the quiet joy of being alive. "Let me see you," she said, reaching for his shirt. He allowed her to undress him, his body emerging from the layers of leather and wool. The scars on his chest caught the light, silver lines on bronze skin. She traced them with her fingers, each one a story, each one a battle survived. He shivered beneath her touch. "You are beautiful," she said. "I am scarred." "So am I." She pressed her palm flat against his chest, feeling his heartbeat. "Scars are not ugly. They are proof that we did not break."

Fear and anxiety was written all over her face. "Please don't" her eyes were moist when she stopped me. But I didn't pay a hay to her protest. "You just have to trust me" I only told her this before kissing every inch of her scar. Starting from the above, I laid open mouthed kisses along the length of the scar as she started sobbing silently. Her hands were clenching the sheets as if she was in pain. "You need to love yourself Camellia, your scars are beautiful just like you are. Instead they are the ones which make you pretty. There is no beauty in perfection." I said against her warm skin and her drenched face smiled at me.

" She... She re-opened dad's case? Why? Isn't she the one who told me that I should stop fighting against that invisible enemy of us? Why would she... Do this?" I stood up even if I feel like I would fall in any moment. I accidentally passed by a mirror and saw my scar. The memories that I buried six feet under the ground starts to flash like a flood. The screams in pain, the culprit's laugh, dad's cry in pain, our maids' shouts, and my cries. God, I need to stop this again. If this kept on flashing back, I'll lost myself again. And I don't want that to happen.

And in every bright sunny day comes a cold and chilling rainy afternoon. People keep saying that I should move on. Yes, I have moved on. I definitely have already let him go. But in the heart of a person who has experienced loss while being bombarded by the trials of life…it’s not easy. One can always heal a wound but you can never hide the scars. It will rest there forever. You can cover it as long as you like but you can never erase it. It serves as a reminder, a warning, a gift. For you can never learn from your mistake if you didn’t make a mistake in the first place.

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

"But I know I have people who rely on me." "That was just the past, Cole. So can we just forget about it?" He was still looking at me with concern. "Things like that don't just go away, Ray." His eyes looked down at the scars on my chest. "It's like a scar..." He rubbed his thumb over my skin. "Scars are ugly and disgraceful... But no matter what we do, the scars won't go away." His eyes lifted to meet my gaze. "So we learn to live with them."