Flesh Wound Quotes & Sayings

I call upon the deamhan and the sidhe ," Ruadan prayed. "To heal their son, flesh of their flesh, magic of their magic. So do I will it, so mote it be." I watched in terrified amazement as the whirling lights weaved into a heart. A real heart. The pulsating organ connected to the veins. Then the flesh sealed itself and within seconds, no wound existed at all. I stared at Patrick then looked at Ruadan, mouth gaping.
"Neat, huh?" he said. "I like the sparkling lights the best."
"That's it ?" I asked.
"Yep. — Michele Bardsley

Confederate surgeons usually performed "circular" amputations. They made a 360-degree cut through the skin, then scrunched it up like a shirt cuff. After sawing through the muscle and bone, they inched the skin back down to wrap the stump. This method led to less scarring and infection. Union surgeons preferred "flap" amputations: doctors left two flaps of flesh hanging beside the wound to fold over after they'd sawed through. This method was quicker and provided a more comfortable stump for prosthetics. Altogether, surgeons lopped off 60,000 fingers, toes, hands, feet, and limbs during the war. — Sam Kean

Don't worry. It's just a flesh wound. — David Letterman

The thing about love - no one is untouchable. It's as wild as that, as raw as an open flesh wound exposed to salty sea water, but when it actually breaks, it's silent. You're just screaming on the inside and no one can hear it. — Cecelia Ahern

What are the funniest famous last words you've ever heard?" Lost, Ryan just stared at her. Why did her brain constantly spit out nonsensical questions? "Fine be boring." She turned to Jaime, who was sprawled on the neighboring blanked, and repeated the question.

"Lightning never hits the same spot twice," said Jaime. Everyone laughted. "You know any"" she asked her mate.

"Pull the pin out and count to what?" said Dante.

Dominic plopped himself on the ground next to Zac. "I got one: Hold my beer while I do this."

Taryn raised her hand. "Hey, what does this button do?"
"This doesn't taste right," said Marcus.
Bracken, a Mercury Pack enforcer spoke. "It's just a flesh wound."
Ally offered, "No dummy, that's a dolphin fin."
"What's that red dot on your forehead?" said McKenna.
Amused in spite of himself - it was after all, a completely pointless conversation - Ryan kissed her temple. — Suzanne Wright

Trust the word of a man who thinks beheading is a flesh wound?"
"I didn't say it wouldn't have been inconvenient."
"Death is inconvenient?"
"Being dismembered is inconvenient. I don't know about death. — Devon Monk

You fear no inferno when you are born amidst flames.
It's another flesh wound, another lasting burn.
Carry them with you. — Renee Ruin

Let's say," Judd whispered, "that some fuck was to show up here and cause trouble. Let's say the piece of shit that put those bruises on your face shows up here, do you know what would happen?"
As I shook my head, Judd laid over the covers I rested under. "I would shoot the fucker. No warning shot. No flesh wound. One shot and it would be over. Do you understand? — Bijou Hunter

Aw, true love." Howler lands on the boat, rocking it. "It makes me want to puke. Doesn't it make you want to gag too, Hawk?" "I never thought it was a good idea in the first place," says Hawk as he lands beside Howler. "Eternal damnation is what I get for listening to you lot." "How's the flesh wound, boss?" Howler shows off his forearm that glistens with his raw, skinless muscles. "Want to compare and see who gets bragging rights? — Susan Ee

A single girl who needs nobody makes people uncomfortable, and my mom is right in this, appearance is everything, and appearing to have no one is like swimming alone in the middle of the ocean with a flesh wound. — Elissa Schappell

Forgetting himself for a moment, Francis brought his hand out from under his frock in order to bless the multitude. When the people saw his wound they bellowed madly. The women dashed forward with mantles outstretched to catch the drops; the men thrust in their hands and anointed their faces with blood. The villagers' expressions grew savage, and so did their souls. They longed to be able to tear the Saint limb from limb in order for each of them to claim a mouthful of his flesh, for they wanted to make him their own, to have him enter them so that they could become one with a saint - could be sanctified. Blind rage had overpowered them; their eyes were leaden, their lips ringed with froth. — Nikos Kazantzakis

I feel my griefs too, and there scarce is ground
Upon my flesh t'inflict another wound.
Yet dare I not complain, or wish for death
With holy Paul; lest it be thought the breath
Of discontent; or that these prayers be
For weariness of life, not love of thee. — Ben Jonson

I think this cut might need stiches," Scarlett said, yet as her cloth wiped away the blood it revealed a smooth line of unmarked, unbroken flesh. "Wait, I don't see a wound."
"There's not one. But that feels really good." Julian moaned and arched his back.
"You scoundrel! — Stephanie Garber

On the third Wednesday of every month I'd visit fat Dr. Pinski, an old demoralized psychiatrist who couldn't have spotted a suicide if the malcontent's errant bullet ricocheted off his desk and grazed him with a flesh wound. And chances are it would be a flesh wound, cuz he was packing. Flesh. Lots of it too. — Trebor Healey

Language used truly, not mere talk, neither propaganda, nor chatter, has real power. Its words are allowed to be themselves, to bless or curse, wound or heal. They have the power of a 'word made flesh,' of ordinary speech that suddenly takes hold, causing listeners to pay close attention, and even to release bodily sighs
whether of recognition, delight, grief, or distress. — Kathleen Norris

The term "FTM-Butch Border War" just sounds like an alien land of yore. How is it that the gravitational pull of my beard and low-voice should hold [my lesbian friend's] masculinity in deferential orbit? That when standing side-by-side we are supposedly read in comparison, rendering her unalterably more feminine - shorthand, in patriarchal societies, for "lesser than"?

Masculinity has more than enough space to spare. But sometimes its flesh-and-blood vessels act as if we have to wound each other for it, like dogs fighting over too few scraps. Anyway, [she] and I know without speaking that in reality, right here and right now in our present moment, that she and I are two different sides of the same coin; two keys sung for the same tune."

- from "Snapshots: "Sharing Space with Women," Original Plumbing Magazine 2014 — Mitch Kellaway

Donnelley was lifting his shirt away from the torn flesh in his side. He was cranked around, trying to assess the damage in the muck-spotted mirror. To Vero, he looked like an expressionist painting in which all the objects were the same color of too-vivid red: the shirt, the hands holding the shirt, the belt bassing through pant loops. At the center of it all was the thing that corrupted its surroundings with its own gruesome color - a wound. — Robert Liparulo

I'm sorry," Sylvan murmured, kneeling in front of her. And then she felt the needle slide home and liquid fire was traveling up her arm. Sophie gasped as tears sprang to her eyes. "It burns! Is it supposed to burn like that?" "Only for a moment," Sylvan assured her. His voice sounded strange and Sophie looked up at him. What she saw took her mind off the burning in her vein. Unshed tears glimmered in his ice blue eyes and the pain on his face was unmistakable. "Sylvan?" she whispered. Freeing her hand from Kat's supportive grip, she reached out to touch his cheek. "I'm sorry. I hate being the cause of your pain." His deep voice was rough with emotion and he looked away, blinking rapidly. "It's all right," she said softly as he withdrew the needle and sealed her wound with flesh glue. "You couldn't help it." "But I didn't want to hurt you," he said fiercely and looked at her again. "I never want to do that, Sophia." "I know," she whispered. For — Evangeline Anderson

The wound has gradually become dearer to me than my own flesh and blood, and I have thought its pain to be the emotion of the wound as it lived or even its murmur of affection — Osamu Dazai

In the beginning his flesh was simply soft, so soft that he was cut to the bone by dust particles, air currents and brushing overcoats while direct contact with doors and chairs seemed to occasion no discomfort. No wound healed in his soft, tentative flesh... Long white tendrils of fungus curled round the naked bones. — William S. Burroughs

I think I found your vampire," Andrew said, except this time he wasn't so amused.
However, Gabriella was, her smile huge as she laughed, the sound a trill in the densely packed cold air.
"You think this is funny?" The words came out surly, but Andrew couldn't stop his lips from twitching over her amusement.
"I thought they'd be bigger," she said, stifling another round of giggles. "Are you okay?"
"Just a flesh wound. — Laura Kreitzer

This love is more than just a flesh wound,
it is wreckage we choose not to crawl from. — Josh Boyd

I'd wear any of my private attire for the world to see. But I would rather have an open flesh wound than ever wear a band aid in public. — Lady Gaga

He slept still in the induced coma his doctors had kept him in since he arrived. She could see the bruises, see the healing wound of the burn that stretched over his side. She reached out a hand, hovered just above the field and traced the path of the yellow, black and angry red of his healing flesh.
She had done that to him. — Mary Brock Jones

Be useful, that's all you ever say to me. But how can I be useful?" "That's something you have to discover for yourself, like everything else in life. No one can give you advice about that. I'd really like to
if I thought it would do any good." "And I'd like to know what you really mean." Silvestri smiled. "Don't worry. All I mean is that we won't become what we are meant to be in life by listening to other people's words or advice. We have to feel in our own flesh the wound that will make us into proper men. Then it's up to us to act ... — Jose Saramago

I've had worse," Michael said, his voice strained. He shifted his weight, testing the leg, and made a hissing sound - but it supported his weight. "Only a flesh wound." "Yeah," I said. "'Tis but a scratch. Come on, ya pansy." He blinked and looked at me. "Pansy?" "Oh," I said. "You weren't quoting the movie. Sorry." "Movie?" "Holy Grail?" "Nicodemus still has it." I sighed. "Never mind. — Jim Butcher

Gregor's serious wound, from which he suffered for over a month - the apple remained imbedded in his flesh as a visible souvenir since no one dared to remove it - seemed to have reminded even his father that Gregor was a member of the family, in spite of his present pathetic and repulsive shape, who could not be treated as an enemy; that, on the contrary, it was the commandment of the family duty to swallow their disgust and endure him, endure him and nothing more. — Franz Kafka

When does real love begin?
At first it was a fire, eclipses, short circuits, lightning and fireworks; the incense, hammocks, drugs, wines, perfumes; then spasm and honey, fever, fatigue, warmth, currents of liquid fire, feast and orgies; then dreams, visions, candlelight, flowers, pictures; then images out of the past, fairy tales, stories, then pages out of a book, a poem; then laughter, then chastity.
At what moment does the knife wound sink so deep that the flesh begins to weep with love?
At first power, power, then the wound, and love, and love and fears, and the loss of the self, and the gift, and slavery. At first I ruled, loved less; then more, then slavery. Slavery to his image, his odor, the craving, the hunger, the thirst, the obsession. — Anais Nin

In the wee hours of the morning, the Edenic lovers wound themselves around each other, flesh against flesh, sleepy and sated in a large, white bed. Lightness and darkness, innocence and experience, kissed and caressed in the warmth and acceptance created by their love. The dark angel whispered to his muse in Italian until she fell asleep in his arms, happier than she had ever been. She was loved. — Sylvain Reynard

There is a wound in the flesh of human life that scars when it heals and often enough seems never to heal at all. Avoid — Marilynne Robinson

Philosophy can be compared to some powders that are so corrosive that, after they have eaten away the infected flesh of a wound, they then devour the living flesh, rot the bones, and penetrate to the very marrow. Philosophy at first refutes errors. But if it is not stopped at this point, it goes on to attack truths. And when it is left on its own, it goes so far that it no longer knows where it is and can find no stopping place. — Pierre Bayle

Is that all there is? they must be thinking. Shouldn't it be less ordinary, more sordid, more epic, more truly harrowing, this flesh wound of your? Tell us more! Couldn't we please crank up the pain? — Margaret Atwood

It's just a flesh wound! — Graham Chapman

This was then the reward of my benevolence! I had saved a human being from destruction, and as a recompense I now writhed under the miserable pain of a wound which shattered the flesh and bone. The feelings of kindness and gentleness which I had entertained but a few moments before gave place to hellish rage and gnashing of teeth. Inflamed by pain, I vowed eternal hatred and vengeance to all mankind. But the agony of my wound overcame me; my pulses paused, and I fainted. — Mary Shelley

It's simply the way things are when people come together out of hurt rather than happiness. When you try to use people as band-aids you merely reinfect the wound, and every moment you spend with them is like a speck of glass working itself deeper into your flesh. — Michael Marshall Smith

Someone did a study of the three most-often-heard phrases in New York City. One is "Hey taxi." Two is "What train do I take to get to Bloomingdales?" And three is "Don't worry, it's only a flesh wound. — David Letterman

He with whom neither slander that gradually soaks into the mind, nor statements that startle like a wound in the flesh, are successful may be called intelligent indeed. — Confucius