Scars Quotes Novels & Stories

"What, is Mom not as important as some junk locket? You know what happens if her condition worsens." "I know." I cut him off, my voice cracking as I crouched on the floor. "No one knows better than me when she loses it." My old scars burned as I recalled it. Like a volatile child, she'd speak kindly one moment, and the next, brand me with a hot poker. The smell of scorched flesh haunted my nightmares. Andre fell silent, knowing how diligently I had cared for Evelyn, but a moment later, he hardened again. "I got it, you don't want her to get better."

“It was my mother and grandmother who saved me. Ruff had slowed him down, poor sweet creature. And of course my father had been the one to end Cujola. If they had given up on me for even a moment, I wouldn’t be here. But thanks to all of them, I made it through. Now, I have this horribly ugly scar to remind me of what happened.” Kit looked down, pulling the sheet away where it covered part of the jagged line that ran down the length of his left side. “It’s not ugly to me,” she replied, bending to place her lips in several places along the path. “It’s a story—it tells what you have overcome.” She looked back into his eyes. “Don’t ever think any less of yourself because of it. Scars make us wh

If he would say that it was his right, then that would be a lie. It was Liara who had suggested to him the night when she saw his scars for the first time by saying, 'Scars are beautiful when we see them as glorious reminders that we courageously survived. 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 the scars in your life disappear, but you can change the way you see them. And if you will ask me, then you can get your body tattooed with beautiful art to change the way to look at your body.'

These questions need answers so we can reveal the hidden truths. Scars have a unique strength; they remind us of our struggles over time. Many say time heals all wounds, but I disagree. Scars are reminders of our journeys. Time may ease the pain a little, like a gentle touch, but the hurt stays underneath. Our minds try to keep us sane by covering this pain, making it less sharp but never completely getting rid of it. You might see me as a complex person made from love, but remember, every part of me comes from my deep affection for you.

One cruel message from Jace lit up the screen: “We’re done. I can’t be with you when you’re like this anymore.” His words cut deeper than the cold. My fingers shook as I gazed at the illuminated text. The girl I’d been — the one who laughed, who believed — felt buried under layers of shame and doubt. The rain blurred the surroundings, but I could feel the needles that stung my flesh with each sharp raindrop.

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.' —

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.”

“Trapped inside myself, like I’m in a cage I can’t open. Afraid to let anyone in, scared that if I do, I’ll just end up broken again.” Ryan’s hand moved slowly, deliberately, until his fingers brushed a loose strand of hair from my face, tucking it gently behind my ear. His touch was light, tender — full of unspoken promises. “We all carry scars,” he said softly. “Every single one of us has been hurt. But those scars don’t have to be the end of the story. They don’t mean you’re broken beyond repair. Healing doesn’t erase the past — it just means you’re choosing to keep going, to believe there’s something better waiting for you.”

It was old, but the pain it must have caused was evident. "It must have hurt," I murmured, my fingers tracing the raised edges of the scar. His body tensed, a flicker of fear in his eyes. I just felt like I could connect with him so much after seeing this. His scar was physical, but my own scars, though invisible, ran just as deep. I bent my head, pressing a soft kiss against the scarred flesh, a silent apology for the pain he had endured.

“Rue, do not make fun of me.” “I am not making fun of you,” I said. “I am reminding you that you are still handsome even when you look awkward.” Percy looked away. His fingers moved close to the scars on his arm. I reached for his hand before he could hide them. “Do not look at them like that,” I said. He became quiet. “They are not pleasant to look at.” “They are part of you,” I said. “Some came from old injuries. Some came from the blood pact backlash. Some came because you suffered too much alone. I hate that you were hurt, but I do not hate your scars.”