Scars Quotes Novels & Stories

The firelight dances over our faces, showing the deep feeling in our eyes. “I need you to know something, Xander,” I begin nervously, clutching a small charm that has been with me through many problems. “Every scar on my skin, every wound, it tells a story—a story of pain, loss, and sometimes, hope. But I fear that some of these scars... they might break us apart if we allow them.” Xander’s eyes soften, and he takes my hand in his. “Aria, those scars are proof of your survival. They are signs that you’ve survived pain and still stand here, stronger than ever. They don’t define you...they improve you.”

He looked away after saying that. “What do you mean?” I asked, moving closer towards him. He summoned his courage and looked up at me, “It’s because I do not deserve you. You do not deserve a man like me, a man with scars.” “It’s okay to have scars,” I replied with conviction. “In fact, I love men with scars. People that have been hurt are better lovers. Moreover, the fact that they have scars means they have healed.” “Really? If they’ve been healed, why doesn’t the scar disappear?” Kelvin asked. I looked into his eyes, burning for him,

"Shouldn't you say something else?" "Should I?" He patted his hair as he looked at her with a tilted smile. "Take a bath and I'll help you with your injuries." She said. "Imogen would heal it overtime." He said. "But there'll be scars..you shouldn't leave scars all over your body." She shook her head. "Scars are a mark of victories." "Not today's scars." She moved closer to him, "These are marks of distraction." She whispered and raisedd her brows, her eyes brightening like the sun. Xandros's expression darkened as he stared at her.

“I felt like a monster that broke my mum’s beautiful marriage though she never blamed me” She held my lips with her right hand. “You are not,” she whispered, shaking her head. Our eyes locked. “Neither do you, Miss Glasses. Believe me,” I responded sharply. She quietly removed her hand from my mouth and looked away to the window. “My mum always told me, back when I was ashamed of the scar, that our scars make us beautiful and different,” I snapped. “They show that we can overcome anything—if we accept them and flaunt them the way we like.”

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.

"Oh no I am hideous, all the scars I have, such a terrible sight." "Your scars are beautiful." "Even the one across my face?" Prince Mangus asked. "Especially the one across your face." They smiled faintly to each other. "Scars are reminders of not what you have been through but you have overcome so you are just a wonder of a sight." "Wow, you are so nice, I guess it really was just me bringing out the hostility in you," he said and they chuckled. "I did say that," she said and they chuckled on.

He noticed my discomfort and raised an eyebrow at me and asked very simply “why do you hide your scars from me?” “Because, I do not want to see the love in your eyes for me slowly fade away” I replied, he picked up my hands and gently pulled up the sleeve just above my wrists and he kissed the scars. “ I would never love you less, beauty is only skin deep and your beauty is much more deeper; it shines from within you my angel; these scars will vanish, but my love and respect for you and what you have put yourself through for our safety has only increased and it will keep growing and flourishing.”

Unable to speak, I slowly nodded my head and traced his toned abs which were visible through his black fitted shirt. “Wanna feel them, skin to skin?” His lips curved up and I looked away. Skilfully, he removed his shirt and I almost forgot to breathe when his naked chest came into my view, the Greek God in human flesh was sitting next to me. He had toned abs and scarred skin, it left no to imagination. He had won many battles, ditched death multiple times because who scars looked old. My fingers traced them very delicately. “They remind me of who I am and what is expected from me. My scars are my trophy, they motivate me to learn from the past and reshape my present as I wish.” He said and g

Still hers. She trailed her fingertips his arm, as the morning light danced over the bruises and healing wounds as if trying to make sense of the pain etched into his skin. Battle scars. Every one of them earned in the fight to get Sophie back. The war might have been over, but peace hadn't yet settled down in her heart. Grayson stirred beside her. "You ever going to stop watching me sleep like a serial killer?" She smiled faintly. "Probably not." He cracked one eye open. "Creepy and sexy. That's very on-brand for you."

“It was rude of me to stare. But yes, I am here for work.” Elara’s expression softened, and she nodded. “You may be surprised to learn that my scars are a symbol of my strength, Miss Rogers.” She ran a finger along the length of her neck, staring into space. “This scar is a reminder of everything I’ve overcome to get to where I am today.” I swallowed hard.