Scars Quotes Novels & Stories

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.”

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

“Sorry, I get nervous.” “It’s okay, darling. I know you can’t help it.” She takes my arms and turns them over. “Now, what happened here?” “I… I was in a really dark place and I lost hope.” Admitting to what I did, without actually saying it. She runs her thumb lightly over my scar, then looks at me solemnly. “You know, Zara. In our pack, scars are not a sign of weakness. They are a sign of strength. It means you survived something your wolf couldn’t help you through. So, who helped you through this?”

Then when I was done, I simply said, “I hate looking at my scars and I don’t want anyone else to see them either. So, I stay covered.” Mel swam up to me. “You know what I think, Iva?” “That I’m pathetic?” She looked at me like I was crazy. “No. I think you are still letting your family control you. All of us have scars in some fashion or another. They are not who you are though. Plus, it shows how strong you are. You survived some serious and heavy shit. I’d wear those scars with pride. Not hide them away.” Sable came into the pool. She showed me her several scars. “This one here…this one is the most important one. Jaxon gave me this one. It’s how we met.”

she said, her voice low but firm. She added, “I never thought for once that a day would come where they'd ever fade away” The old woman’s face brightened, she stepped closer. “Good. That means the medicine is working.” “Scars are like stories written on skin,” she said. “Sometimes they whisper, sometimes they scream but always, they remind” Anana lowered her eyes. “I don't want to be reminded.” The old woman said softly, her fingers already moving to prepare her satchel of ointments. “But healing doesn't mean forgetting, child.”

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.”

I guess that’s why I have my scar, a reminder of the fact that I’ll never be as strong as I need to be. As strong as I want to be. Maybe I deserve the scar…. I-i know I deserve my scar it’s all my fault. I… I need to search the body. I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand, collected the supplies and got to my feet, stumbling backwards as my backpack settled on my shoulders.