Quotes When You Are Hurt Novels & Stories

I know where this talk is going. “Bullshit, Ivann,” I responded. I closed my eyes once more and started massaging my temples for a second before looking at him straight in the eye. “It’s funny thinking that it doesn’t only happen inside a book or a movie but also in real life,” I sarcastically said. “Someone who can actually hurt you and then make up an excuse using a disease just so they can be forgiven,” I added, acting like I was surprised.

" They're just words, they can't hurt me that much," " Words hurt more than punches and kicks," I knew this because , well, my father . He's hurled alot of hurtful words my way because of one issue involving my rebellious ways or another. Felt like I took a dagger to my heart or something. " I would have been more okay if Leslie slapped your stupid face or even kicked your shins or something. But no one ever recovers from the pain of hurtful words."

The memory of that moment haunted me, a stark reminder of the lengths we go to shield ourselves from ridicule. "When you protect yourself from pain, be sure you don't protect yourself from love. That's how we are; we choose pride over our own preferences, so the ending is you are the one that gets hurt in the end," his words echoed in my mind, stirring a whirlwind of emotions within me. The fragility of our bond laid bare before us, a testament to the vulnerabilities we dared not confront.

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!

“Do not be nonchalant about your feelings.” That hurt, that hurt so fucking much.

Michael said quietly, and I heard his footsteps retreating from the door. I watched as silent tears slid down my face. The ache inside me was unbearable, so loud, so consuming, I didn’t know what to do with it. I was tired. Tired of pain. Tired of surviving on anger. Tired of pretending like hurting him would make anything better. It didn’t. It never would. Hurting him only hurt me. And that was the most brutal truth of all. “Before you embark on a journey of revenge, dig two graves.” Now I understood that quote as it made much more sense now.

"That's it, I forgot the lyrics." A few people applauded reluctantly. And even though I'd been preparing for a heartbreak from the moment I'd met him, I felt a tug at my chest. It was a surprisingly weak tug. I supposed that horrible things are considerate too - they don't come alone, they bring some of their friends around. Because when you're already hurting, more hurt hurts a little less. -

It really hurts so much… I don’t like this pain… Mommy… Please make this pain go away… What did I do wrong? I am sorry… I just want you to like me… Please stop being mean to me…. It hurts… My heart hurts… My heart hurts… My heart hurts… My heart hurts… My heart hurts… My heart hurts… My heart hurts… My heart hurts… My heart hurts… My heart hurts… My heart hurts… My heart hurts… My heart hurts… My heart hurts… My heart hurts… My heart hurts… My heart hurts… My heart hurts… My heart hurts… My heart hurts… My heart hurts… My heart hurts… My heart hurts… My heart hurts… My heart hurts… My heart hurts… My heart hurts… My heart hurts… My heart hurts… My heart hurts… My heart hurts… My heart hurts…

“What about you?” “Sorry everyone. I’m not trying to make any one feel guilty, just trying to prove a point. Marcus, remember what I told you about my life before?” “Yes.” “Do you realize that people that hurt me are sitting right at this table in varying degrees? Some by ignorance, or turning a blind eye. Some with words. Some with silence. Some physically. Some through rejection.” “Um.”

I pointed out. “If you don’t care about him, then why can I still hear the sound of pain in your voice while you talk about him—” “Because he hurt me!” I snapped. “He hurt me right here!” I pointed to my heart. “And those kinds of wounds, they don’t ever heal.” I spat.