Quotes & Sayings About A Bruised Heart

Moses, without any mercy, breaks all bruised reeds, and quenches all smoking flax. For the law requires personal, perpetual and perfect obedience from the heart, and that under a most terrible curse, but gives no strength. It is a severe task master, like Pharaoh's, requiring the whole tale ofbricks and yet giving no straw. Christ comes with blessing after blessing, even upon those whom Moses had cursed, and with healing balm for those wounds which Moses had made. — Richard Sibbes

He has a heart so huge, it's kept pumping, kept going long past endurance - even though life has bruised it to a pulp. — Nalini Singh

I felt my heart skip a beat, just one, but it was enough that I took notice. It was nice to know that the poor thing wasn't too wounded to get up and try again. It had been beaten, bruised, and bloodied, broken in two and wrapped up again, but it was still there, still thumping away for one more chance at that perfect kiss, that perfect person that could take the darkness and the bad memories and the anger and push it all away again, bring out the sun and light up my soul. — C.M. Stunich

He fell back. He had cried out so loud that even if there had been no breach in the wall, I should have heard him in my room. He voiced his whole dream, he threw it out passionately. This sincerity, which was indifferent to everything, had a definite significance which bruised my heart.
"Forgive me. Forgive me. It is almost a blasphemy. I could not help it."
He stopped. You felt his will-power making his face calm, his soul compelling him to silence, but his eyes seem to mourn. — Henri Barbusse

A true artist willingly removes their heart, allows constructive criticism to stomp it, then puts it back
bruised and aching
to continue improving due to the all-consuming obsessive love for their art. — H.G. Mewis

There were moments in your life that brought you to your knees. Moments that punched the absolute fuck out of you.
I was having one of those moments.
I thought life had already handed me my heart on a platter. Bleeding and bruised. Turned out life wasn't done with me yet. Bleeding and bruised wasn't enough. — Nina Levine

You can't go through life without your heart being bruised or broken. Otherwise, you're not truly, fully, a person. — JoBeth Williams

When you are deeply hurt, no person on this earth can shut out the innermost fears and deepest agonies. The best of friends cannot really understand the battle you are going through or the wounds inflicted on you. Only God can shut out the waves of depression and feelings of loneliness and failure that come over you. Faith in God's love alone can salvage the hurt mind. The bruised and broken heart that suffers in silence can be healed only by a supernatural work of the Holy Spirit, and nothing short of divine intervention really works. — David Wilkerson

ISCARIOT"

"A box of doves
I placed beside your chest
Liar
A stork of silk
With rubies in it's nest
Fire
Of my love
Will burn thee to a wizened word
For ere to go unheard.

A mare of wood
Elder, elm and oak
Liar
Will keep you fair
If you jest me no joke
Fire
Of my love
Will burn thee to a wizened word
For ere to go unheard.

I'm old and bruised
But my fate is that of youth
Liar
Trickster you
Be a grisly dragon's tooth
Fire
Of my love
Will burn thee to a wizened word
For ere to go unheard.

You gashed the heart of my heart
Like a Portuguese
Witch,
I'd planned for you this land
But you devoured my hand. — Marc Bolan

An unaccustomed weed of jealousy sprang up in Jamie's heart, stinging like nettles. He stamped firmly on it; he was fortunate indeed to know that his son enjoyed a loving relationship with his stepfather. There, that was the weed stamped out. The stamping, though, seemed to have left a small bruised spot on his heart; he could feel it when he breathed. — Diana Gabaldon

The only sounds in the cave were the hopeless, abandoned sobbing, and plop-plop-plop of the drips.
Petra looked at us, then at the figure on the bed, then at us again, expectantly. When neither of us moved she appeared to decide that the initiative lay with her. She crossed to the bedside and knelt down concernedly beside it. Tentatively she put a hand on the dark hair.
'Don't,' she said. 'Please don't.'
There was a startled catch in the sobbing. A pause, then a brown arm reached out round Petra's shoulders. The sound became a little less desolate ... it no longer tore at one's heart: but it left it
bruised and aching.. — John Wyndham

I know why the caged bird sings, ah me, When his wing is bruised and his bosom sore,- When he beats his bars and would be free; It is not a carol of joy or glee, But a prayer that he sends from his heart's deep core, But a plea, that upward to Heaven he flings- I know why the caged bird sings! — Paul Laurence Dunbar

It is a grave misconception to regard the mystical progress as passing mostly through ecstasies and raptures. On the contrary, it passes just as much through broken hearts and bruised emotions, through painful sacrifices and melancholy renunciations. — Paul Brunton

And how is your head? Better?" he asked.
"Very much. Sometimes it hurts." Right now it was throbbing. "But every day I am much improved."
"Where did you hit it? Are you bruised?"
I put a hand to the back of my head, a little to the left, where I had landed with such jarring force. "Here," I said. "It's still a little tender."
And leaning forward, he touched my hair right where I had just laid my hand. Such was he glamour that attended him that I expected the ache to instantly melt away, healed by his royal caress. But in fact, I felt a sudden leap in my heart that made the pain briefly more intense. — Sharon Shinn

Her heart was bruised by the kiss, smashed and surprised and unsettled by it. September thought kisses were all nice, sweet things asked for gently and given gladly. It had happened so fast and sharp it had taken her breath. Perhaps she had done it wrong, somehow. She put the kiss away firmly to think about later. Instead, she smiled at him and pulled a carefree mask over her face. — Catherynne M Valente

A demon seduced an angel in the middle of the night
and they gave the stars a glimpse.
There was nothing casual about it,
it was tender skin and battle scars
breathless passion under storm clouds
a rapid river stream mirroring the moon light.
Until one day, he left her with nothing,
just a bruised heart and carved memories
iridescent wings chipped on the edges
heat under her skin, like an ember burning low.
I asked her, "What do you do after a love like that?"
She laughed.
And madness danced behind her eyes.
But she flew so high the world was jealous. — M.J. Abraham

Most believers who are hurt, are hurt in their soul and not their spirit. The Church is a spiritual living organism that continues to grow, thrive and is increasing in that which flows from Jesus Christ, the Anointed One. The anointing keeps destroying any yolk that seeks to bind us especially yolks of pain. The anointing is the oil or the balm that heals. The anointing frees those who have been bruised. The anointing heals the broken heart. Moreover, this oil has not stopped flowing from the great head of the Church. Jesus spoke of the anointing and Him being anointed in the scriptures, hear ye the word of the Lord in Luke 4:18-19. "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he hath anointed me to preach the gospel to the poor; he hath sent me to heal the brokenhearted, to preach deliverance to the captives, and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty them that are bruised, To preach the acceptable year of the Lord. — Sharon Peters

Falling in love was as much about receiving as it was giving, was it? It seemed selfish. It was not, though. It was the opposite. Keeping oneself from being loved was to refuse the ultimate gift.
He had thought himself done with romantic love. He had thought himself an incurable cynic.
He was not, though.
He was only someone whose heart and mind, and very soul, had been battered and bruised. It was still - and always - safe to give since there was a certain deal of control to be exerted over giving. Taking, or allowing oneself to receive, was an altogether more risky business.
For receiving meant opening up the heart again.
Perhaps to rejection.
Or disillusionment.
Or pain.
Or even heart break.
It was all terribly risky.
And all terribly necessary.
And of course, there was the whole issue of trust ... — Mary Balogh

Pain lanced through his neck. He gasped and his eyes flew open; Simon was sitting up on him, staring down with wide eyes, his hand across his own mouth. Simon's wounds were gone, though fresh blood stained the front of his shirt.
Jace could feel the pain of his bruised shoulders again, the slash across his wrist, his punctured throat. He could no longer hear his heart beating, but he knew it was slamming away inside his chest.
Simon took his hand away from his mouth. The fangs were gone. "I could have killed you," he said. There was a sort of pleading in his voice.
"I would have let you," said Jace. — Cassandra Clare

Life is an infiltration course. We all try and get through it. We all try and get through it unscathed - maybe not hurt, not bruised. No bones broken, maybe a few hearts here and there. — Mickey Rooney

A WORD OF CAUTION The material in this chapter is "tough stuff." It should be read, studied, and prayed about when life is more or less routine. It should be stored up or hidden in our hearts (see Psalm 119:11) for the time of adversity when we must draw upon its truth. Above all, we need to be very sensitive about instructing someone else in the sovereignty of God and encouraging that person to trust God when he or she is in the midst of adversity or pain. It is much easier to trust in the sovereignty of God when it is the other person who is hurting. We need to be like Jesus, of whom it was said, "A bruised reed he will not break" (Matthew 12:20). Let us not be guilty of breaking a bruised reed (a heavy heart) by insensitive treatment of the heavy doctrine of the sovereignty of God. — Jerry Bridges

A bruised heart that chooses to beat with a passion for God amid pulsing pain and confusion may just be the most expensive offering placed on the divine altar. — Beth Moore

Scratch marks on the back, sore muscles and bruised hip bones won't get you into a woman's heart or mind ... Gentle whispers and holding her hand will. — Alice Walsh

At the end of your life, go out with a bruised-up, worn out heart that gave too much and loved too strongly and felt too fiercely. — Heidi Priebe

The best remedy for a bruised heart is not, as so many people think, repose upon a manly bosom. Much more efficacious are honest work, physical activity, and the sudden acquisition of wealth. — Dorothy L. Sayers

Her heart was a little bruised up His had not yet learned to forget When they hugged, there were fragile parts." -MJ ABRAHAM — Claire Contreras

My soul was a burden, bruised and bleeding. It was tired of the man who carried it, but I found no place to set it down to rest. Neither the charm of the countryside nor the sweet scents of a garden could soothe it. It found no peace in song or laugher, none in the company of friends at table or in the pleasures of love, none even in books or poetry ... Where could my heart find refuge from itself? Where could I go, yet leave myself behind? — Wally Lamb

Every night I empty my heart, but by morning it's full again.
Slow droplets of you seep in through the night's soft caress.
At dawn, I overflow with thoughts of us
An aching pleasure that gives me no respite.
Love cannot be contained, the neat packaging of desire
Splits asunder, spilling crimson through my days.
Long, languishing days that are now bruised tender with yearning,
Spent searching for a fingerprint, a scent, a breath you left behind. — Shamim Sarif

Finally realizing what a broken heart really feels like. I'd thought before that I'd known. When Luke broke up with me by text message, when other people had let me down as a child, it had hurt. A lot. But I'd been wrong about those painful moments. They had bruised my heart, yes. But this right here? This was real pain. This was true heartache. — Elle Casey

The dearer a book was to my heart, the more battered and bruised it became. — Azar Nafisi

Combat comes before victory. If God has chosen special trials for you to endure, be assured He has kept a very special place in His heart just for you. A badly bruised soul is one who is chosen. — Lettie B. Cowman

This is what it felt like to have a broken heart. It felt less like a cracking down the middle and more like she had swallowed it whole and it sat bruised and bleeding in the pit of her stomach. — Wendy Wunder

A true artist removes his heart willingly, allows constructive criticism to stomp it, then puts it back - bruised and aching - as he continues to strive for excellence due to the all-consuming obsession and love for his art. — H.G. Mewis

She sighed. "I don't know, Father, how do you get over someone who's held your heart in their hands for so long? And what do you do when they constantly turn your love away, leaving you battered and bruised?" A sob broke free from her throat to pierce the darkness.
His arm stiffened, paralyzed over her shoulder.
Marcy's voice rose, quiet and strong, to counter her daughter's pain. "You run to the arms of the Almighty, Lizzie. 'Because thou hast been my help, therefore in the shadow of thy wings will I rejoice.' That's the only place our hearts are safe, the only place they can heal. — Julie Lessman

But you, fine sir." John Miller clapped Dexter on the shoulder, a bit unsteadily. "You have problems of your own."
"This is true," Dexter replied, nodding.
"The women," John Miller sighed.
Dexter wiped a hand over his face, and glanced down the road. "The women. Indeed, dear squire, they perplex me as well."
"Ah, the fair Remy," John Miller said grandly, and I felt a flush run up my face. Lissa, in the front seat, put a hand to her mouth.
"The fair Remy," Dexter repeated, "did not see me as a worthwhile risk."
"Indeed."
"I am, of course, a rogue. A rapscallion. A musician. I would bring her nothing but poverty, shame, and bruised shins from my flailing limbs. She is the better for our parting."
John Miller pantomined stabbing himself in the heart. "Cold words, my squire."
"Huffah," Dexter agreed.
"Huffah," John Miller repeated, "Indeed. — Sarah Dessen

What madness, to love a man as something more than human! I lived in a fever, convulsed with tears and sighs that allowed me neither rest nor peace of mind. My soul was a burden, bruised and bleeding. It was tired of the man who carried it, but I found no place to set it down to rest. Neither the charm of the countryside nor the sweet scents of a garden could soothe it. It found no peace in song or laughter, none in the company of friends at table or in the pleasures of love, none even in books or poetry. Everything that was not what my friend had been was dull and distasteful. I had heart only for sighs and tears, for in them alone I found some shred of consolation. — Augustine Of Hippo

I hate you for all the years I 'll have to live without you. How can a heart hurt this much and still go on beating? How can I feel this bad without dying from it?
I 've bruised my knees with praying to have you back. None of my prayers have been answered. I tried to send them up to heaven but they 're trapped here on earth, like bobwhites beneath the snow. I try to sleep and it's like I 'm suffocating.
Where have you gone?
Once you said that if I wasn't with you, it wouldn't be heaven.
I can't let go of you. Come back and haunt me. Come back. — Lisa Kleypas

The inner life is bruised by a running against the laws of the Kingdom. The bruises are guilt complexes, a sense of inferiority, of missing the mark, of being out of harmony with God and with oneself, a sense of wrongness. Divine forgiveness wipes out all that sense of inner hurt and condemnation. Brings a sense of at-homeness- at home with God and oneself and with life. The universe opens its arms and takes one in. You are accepted- by God, by yourself, and by life. All self-loathing, self-rejection, all inferiorities drop away. You are a child of God; born from above, you walk the earth, a conqueror, afraid of nothing. Healed at the heart, you can say to life: Come on, I'm ready for anything. — E. Stanley Jones

When you do fall in love with me, Eena, I don't want it to be because I gave into your demands, but because your heart gave into its desire to truly be loved. With an injured frown he uttered goodnight and left the room.
She stood alone, chastised and bruised. It seemed right to apologize for her insensitive words, but not now. Not while a room full of people remained out there. — Richelle E. Goodrich

The human heart is a wild and bruised beast and often acts accordingly. — N.M. Kelby

Jesus says. "Acknowledge and accept who I want to be for you: a Savior of boundless compassion, infinite patience, unbearable forgiveness, and love that keeps no score of wrongs. Quit projecting onto Me your own feelings about yourself. At this moment your life is a bruised reed and I will not crush it, a smoldering wick and I will not quench it. You are in a safe place."
Brennan Manning. Abba's Child: The Cry of the Heart for Intimate Belonging — Brennan Manning

Each day millions of children arrive in American classrooms in search of more than reading and math skills. They are looking for a light in the darkness of their lives, a Good Samaritan who will stop and bandage a bruised heart or ego. — Jim Trelease

My heart is too bruised and I want to keep the pain as a reminder. I don't want sunlight on it. I don't want it to heal. Because if it does, I might be tempted to use it again. — Nicola Yoon

How can so much beauty hide such a bruised and steely heart, and why must I love him, why must I lean in my weariness upon his irresistible yet indomitable strength? Is he not the wizend funeral spirit of a dead man in a child's clothes? — Anne Rice

Yes, we should pound our fists over persisting ills we see, but unless we also put our hands to work in providing workable solutions to those problems, what are we left with in the end but bruised fists and a bitter heart? — Jack Graham

He wondered, as her blades crackled in the too quiet room, and waves of electricity spiraled around them, if he'd made a mistake. He hadn't seen her in years, but he'd heard the rumors. He hadn't truly known if she could wield those weapons with the glory and grace that drew blood and split bones.
But now, as Androma hissed, "I'm going to kill you," and her words sent a slice of fear charging through Dex's heart, he knew.
Gone was the girl he'd once known, that shivering thing he;d found bruised and broken in the wilderness of Adhira.
In her place stood the warrior he'd trained and hardened and turned into something devilishly delicious.
He reached for his gun as the Bloody Baroness attacked. — Sasha Alsberg