Hurt The Voice Quotes & Sayings

Just asleep, Eddis reassured her.
At the sound of her voice Eugenides's head turned slightly, but he didn't wake. Attolia, seeing the movement, breathed again and pressed her hand to her chest where it hurt. — Megan Whalen Turner

With a slow, deliberate movement, he pushed his hand into the fall of her hair, wrapping a thick strand around his fingers and wrist. His voice dropped, deepening as he spoke words meant for her. "I love your hair. The color of blood at its most fragrant and powerful."
The light tug on the strands didn't hurt. Instead it sensitized her. The swirl of color in his eyes was myriad shades of red reflected and magnified. "You should let go now," she said, low even tones that matched his own.
The corner of that edible mouth lifted, baring a fang. "Never. — Danielle Monsch

Then Shame raised his voice, obviously talking to me. "Aren't you going to ask why I came by?" I shrugged the shoulder that didn't hurt. "You need a reason to harass Zay?" "Hell no. But I'm not here to talk to Zay. I'm here for you." He strolled across the room toward me. — Devon Monk

I hear a small voice
in the back of my mind
and it is chanting a prayer:
'Please don't fall in love again,
please don't fall in love again.'
Maybe this time I will listen.
Maybe this I will learn. — Tina Tran

If you do come to Christ he will appear as a lion, in his glorious power and dominion, to defend you. All those excellencies of his in which he appears as a lion, shall be yours, and shall be employed for you, in your defense, for your safety, and to promote your glory; he will be as a lion to fight against your enemies: he that touches you, or offends you, will provoke his wrath, as he that stirs up a lion. Unless your enemies can conquer this lion, they shall not be able to destroy or hurt you; unless they are stronger than he, they shall not be able to hinder your happiness. Is. 31:4, For thus hath the Lord spoken unto me, like as the lion, and the young lion, roaring on his prey, when a multitude of shepherds is called forth against him, he will not be afraid of their voice, nor abase himself for the noise of them; so shall the Lord of hosts come down to fight for Mount Zion, and for the hill thereof. — Jonathan Edwards

The first time we went out on a date, a little voice in my head said: This man will never hurt you, and nothing he had done in the seven years since had led me to doubt it. And then he turned into Marathon Man. — Jojo Moyes

I love you, Kitten."
How puny those words seemed compared to the feelings strafing mine, but his voice vibrated as he said them. Then he crouched beside me.
"I would never hurt you that way save for one reason: to keep you safe. I can live with your anger, your retribution ... bloody hell, despise me if you must, but don't expect me to behave as though you aren't the most important thing in my life. You are, and I will let no one, yourself included, bring you to harm. — Jeaniene Frost

George!' [Horace] said, the relief evident in his voice. 'Are you all right?'
'No! I am not!' George replied with considerable spirit. 'I have a whacking great arrow stuck through my arm and it hurts like the very dickens! How could anybody be all right in those circumstances?' ...
'You saved my life, George,' Horace said gently ...
George grimaced. 'Well, if I'd known it was going to hurt like this, I wouldn't have! I would have just let them shoot you! Why do you live this way?' he demanded in a high-pitched voice. 'How can you bear it? This sort of thing is very, very painful. I always suspected that warriors are crazy. Now I know. — John Flanagan

So much of what I love about poetry lies in the vast possibilities of voice, the spectacular range of idiosyncratic flavors that can be embedded in a particular human voice reporting from the field. One beautiful axis of voice is the one that runs between vulnerability and detachment, between 'It hurts to be alive' and 'I can see a million miles from here.' A good poetic voice can do both at once. — Tony Hoagland

Will's voice dropped. "Everyone makes mistakes, Jem."
"Yes," said Jem. "You just make more of them than most people."
"I - "
"You hurt everyone," said Jem. "Everyone whose life you touch."
"Not you," Will whispered. "I hurt everyone but you. I never meant to
hurt you."
Jem put his hands up, pressing his palms against his eyes. "Will - "
"You can't never forgive me," Will said in disbelief, hearing the
panic tinging his own voice. "I'd be - "
"Alone?" Jem lowered his hand, but he was smiling now, crookedly. "And
whose fault is that? — Cassandra Clare

Everyone keeps telling me that time heals all wounds, but no one can tell me what I'm supposed to do right now. Right now I can't sleep. It's right now that I can't eat. Right now I still hear his voice and sense his presence even though I know he's not here. Right now all I seem to do is cry. I know all about time and wounds healing, but even if I had all the time in the world, I still don't know what to do with all this hurt right now. — Nina Guilbeau

I wanted a drink. There were a hundred reasons why a man will want a drink, but I wanted one now for the most elementary reason of all. I didn't want to feel what I was feeling, and a voice within was telling me that I needed a drink, that I couldn't bear it without it.
But that voice is a liar. You can always bear the pain. It'll hurt, it'll burn like acid in an open wound, but you can stand it. And, as long as you can make yourself go on choosing the pain over the relief, you can keep going. — Lawrence Block

Am I hurting you?" he asked, his voice breaking and his eyes vulnerable.
"The only time you ever hurt me is when you leave me," she replied, wrapping herself around him. "Don't ever leave me again. — Josephine Angelini

She leaned toward him and hissed, "I told you what would happen if you crossed the line and tried to get into my shorts! The only reason I'm not making you hurt even more is because someone might wonder about the screams. From now on, you're going to sleep on the deck." The tone in her voice was deadly as she continued. "If you ever try anything like that again, my next problem will be working out how to dispose of your corpse. — Robert Adrian

Methought I heard a voice cry, Sleep no more!
Macbeth does murder sleep, - the innocent sleep;
Sleep that knits up the ravell'd sleave of care,
The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath,
Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course,
Chief nourisher in life's feast. — William Shakespeare

People think I am unemotional because my voice is flat and a bit boring. It is unfortunate but it is just the way it is. I've tried to change it but it doesn't seem to make a difference. The truth is, I have lots of emotions inside. I cried after the semi-final at Wimbledon [2012] because I was proud to reach the final and I knew how much it meant to the country. I cried after the [losing] final [to Federer], too, for different reasons. I felt I had let people down. I think people warmed to that. They could see how much it hurt. — Andy Murray

Nurture your felt love for nature. Never deny it. That love is the eons, the purifying intelligence, beauty and diversity of nature sustaining us in its perfection. Our disconnection from this love and its advice produces our hurt, greed and destructiveness. We must reconnect and restore its peaceful voice in our thoughts, soul and surroundings. — Michael J. Cohen

Brianna! Is Sam okay?" Astrid cried.
"No. Drake tore him up." She wanted to sound tough, but the sobs came bubbling up and overtook her. "Oh, God, Astrid, he's hurt so bad."
Astrid gasped and covered her hand with her mouth. Brianna put her arms around Astrid and sobbed into her hair.
"Is he going to die?" Astrid asked, voice wobbly.
"No, I don't think so," Brianna said. She stood back and wiped her tears. "I gave him something for the pain. But he's messed up, Astrid. — Michael Grant

I did not want to hurt you earlier," he said. His voice had returned to the even tone from before. "But you are going to have to learn. It might not be something you want to do, but you are no longer allowed to make those decisions. — Kristin Elyon

It is easy to hurt people when we do not filter our thoughts, when we do not choose our words, when we do not control the tone of voice and the body language. — Saif Samir

There's a unicorn in there bin hurt badly by summat. This is the second time in a week. I found one dead last Wednesday. We're gonna try an' find the poor thing. We might have ter put it out of its misery." "And what if whatever hurt the unicorn finds us first?" said Malfoy, unable to keep the fear out of his voice. — J.K. Rowling

Out in the sky the great dark clouds are massing;
I look far out into the pregnant night,
Where I can hear a solemn booming gun
And catch the gleaming of a random light,
That tells me that the ship I seek is passing, passing.
My tearful eyes my soul's deep hurt are glassing;
For I would hail and check that ship of ships.
I stretch my hands imploring, cry aloud,
My voice falls dead a foot from mine own lips,
And but its ghost doth reach that vessel, passing, passing.
O Earth, O Sky, O Ocean, both surpassing,
O heart of mine, O soul that dreads the dark!
Is there no hope for me? Is there no way
That I may sight and check that speeding bark
Which out of sight and sound is passing, passing? — Paul Laurence Dunbar

His breathing was heavy, and full of life. He shivered still, his hand finding Katty unsteady and unprepared of what was going to come next.
"I hurt you!" Nico said, his voice raised with worry.
"No, not at all, honey, my sweetest Master, but you have me, all of me, the wholeness of me and my darkness."
"You play with the devil dear." Nico sombered.
"No." Katty defiantly said. "You took my blood and it made me your slave, yet I love every minute of it."
"Tell me you love me Katty." He said, nearing her closer than close, mending the space between them with the threads of courage. "Tell me you have no fear, nor no weakness against me. Or no shame in loving me."
"I fear you not, my love." Katty sincerely committed. "I fear only that you will be taken away by the hands of the vampire hunter, and only then, will I fall. — Keira D. Skye

As I pulled aside the linen curtain to the back room, I heard the front door open again. If it was Christina returning to make a second effort at my leggings, I was going to be forced to get loud, and I didn't like getting loud.
But it wasn't Christina I heard at the front of the store.
Instead, a very familiar voice said, "No, no, I'm looking for something very particular. Oh, wait, I just saw it."
I turned around.
Cole St. Clair smiled lazily at me.
I gave so many damns at once that it actually hurt. — Maggie Stiefvater

The greatest tragedy in your life will not be the death of a loved one or a natural disaster; those things hurt like hell and devastate to the core. But loss like that is part of life. What's not necessary and is therefore most tragic is the demise of your truest identity, your dying before you're dead, the moments when you let the words and judgments of others define who you are instead of rising above that pain to be the person you were meant to be. No matter what has happened in your past, you are still capable of becoming a better version of who you are at this moment. Think right. Believe the voice inside of you that speaks the truth. You are a divine marvel. Act like it. Live like it. — Toni Sorenson

I love you," she said, a little louder. A little stronger. She waited another handful of seconds before saying, "Now would be the time for you to say something, Elliott."
"I don't want to see you again."
Simone drew in a long, sobbing breath that hurt her in every single inch, but managed to find the voice to answer him. "That's not what I was hoping to hear. — Megan Hart

Tell me." Edward had to raise his voice a little. "Do you live by the principle that what people don't know can't hurt them?" "No," Harper replied. "What people don't know can't hurt me. — Ginn Hale

You really need better spatial awareness." A familiar, deep voice from behind her made her jump out of her skin.
Feeling almost numb, she turned to find Graysen West standing there - and looking way too sexy for his own good. Or for her own good. She'd thought she was completely alone in the elevator.
She blinked once. Yep, he was still there. Well over six feet of raw masculinity, bright blue eyes she could drown in, and a disapproving frown that somehow made him look sexy.
Isa felt almost possessed as she lashed out. A year of built-up anger and hurt came bursting to the surface. Her arm was moving before she'd processed what she was doing but when her fist connected with his nose, she cursed at the pain that jolted through her hand. Punching someone hurt. — Katie Reus

Ray's voice echoes in my head from one of his many self-defense lectures.
It's the panic that's gonna kill you or get you seriously hurt, Annie. — E.L. James

Hey, he's awesome. A little unstable, but awesome. We got along great." Adrian opened the door to the building we were seeking. "And he's a badass in his way too. I mean, any other guy who wore scarves like that? He'd be laughed out of this school. Not Abe. He'd beat someone almost as badly as you would. In fact ... " Adrian's voice turned nervous. I gave him a surprised look.
"In fact what?"
"Well ... Abe said he liked me. But he also made it clear what he'd do to me if I ever hurt you or did anything bad." Adrian grimaced. "In fact, he described what he'd do in very graphic detail. Then, just like that, he switched to some random, happy topic. I like the guy, but he's scary. — Richelle Mead

I sustained an injury by singing with the flu during the second performance of Andrea Chenier in Buenos Aires. I was very sick, with chills and sweats, but against my better judgement I let them talk me into singing. Of course I gave the performance everything I had and my voice was hurt. It was scary at first, but fortunately there was no permanent damage. I just had to be patient and wait for the voice to return. It took six weeks of physical recuperation and it took time to recover my confidence as well. — Ben Heppner

Giving the emotion a name is the way we come to understand how what happened affected us. After we've told the facts of what happened, we must face our feelings. We are each hurt in our own unique ways, and when we give voice to this pain, we begin to heal it. — Desmond Tutu

I didn't want to hear this. "What the hell are you talking about?" "Necromancer with a chaser of werewolf; a drink to make any vampire giddy." He giggled. Jean-Claude never giggled. I ignored him, if you can ignore an intoxicated vampire. "Jason, can you stand?" "I think so." His voice was thick, heavy but not sleepy, more the languor after sex. Maybe I was glad my bite had hurt. "Larry?" Larry walked over to us, glancing at Magnus, gun naked in his hand. He didn't look happy. "Can we trust him?" "We're going to," I said. "Help me stand up, and let's get out of here before fangface busts a gut." Jean-Claude was doubled over with laughter. He seemed to think "fangface" was outrageously funny. Ye gods. Larry — Laurell K. Hamilton

Aren't you scared?" I asked. She had a way about her that made you question existence.
"I am strong," she answered. Her voice grew with every word. "I am fiercely beautiful," she continued. Her face lit up with every utterance. "And I am not afraid," she whispered. I swear she rose a thousand feet with every note.
To this day I've never seen anything like the girl. She made breathing hurt. She swore she'd change it all. And now? Look at her. She's defying gravity. — C.R. Beck

When children feel understood, their loneliness and hurt diminish. When children are understood, their love for their parent is deepened. A parent's sympathy serves as emotional first aid for bruised feelings. When we genuinely acknowledge a child's plight and voice her disappointment, she often gathers the strength to face reality. — Haim Ginott

In a fairy tale, the story can't be altered. The prince and princess will never have a fight. You'll never hear the queen raise her voice. No on ever gets sick; no one ever gets hurt. Maybe love is only safe in places where it can't change. — Jodi Picoult

So," he said, shaking his head. "I'm too much for you. You should have said something. We might be married, Mercy, but no still means no."
I widened my eyes at him. "I just haven't wanted to hurt your feelings."
"When I give you that little nudge, hmm?" His voice took on a considering air. "Come to think of it, I'm feeling a little nudge coming on right now."
"Now?" I whispered in horrified tones. I looked up toward Jesse's room. "Think of the children."
He tilted his head as if to listen, then shook it. "They won't hear anything from there." He started slowly down the stairs.
"Think of Darryl, Zack, Lucia, and Joel," I said earnestly. "They'll be scarred for life."
"You know what they say about werewolves," he told me gravely, stepping down to the ground.
I broke and ran - and he was right on my tail. Figuratively speaking, of course. I don't have a tail unless I'm in my coyote shape. — Patricia Briggs

Beth's voice broke. "I can't lose you guys." And there it was. She sat here bleeding because she loved me and Isaiah. For the millionth time, I wished the system was a person. One person I could name, know and hold responsible for screwing every single one of us. Right now, Beth's mom's new boyfriend would have to do. — Katie McGarry

Inside us all are pieces of that which makes the neagitve. Demons are neither good nor bad. Like you, they have many facets. It is that inner essence, or drive, if you will, that we all have that guides us through our lives. Sometimes those voices that drive us are whispered memories that live deep inside and cause us such pain that we have no choice except to let it out and to hurt those around us. But at other times, the voice is love and compassion, and it guides us to a gentler place. In the end, we, alone, must choose what path to walk. No one can help us with it. (Menyara) — Sherrilyn Kenyon

He pulled back, barely a fraction, but I knew he was hurt. Why was it so easy to do that these days? For both of us. He wouldn't want to talk about something, and I'de be hurt. Or I wouldn't want to talk about something, and he'd be hurt. Or he'd invite me along with the guys, and I'd analyze every nuance of his voice and expression, worrying that he really didn't want me along, was only being polite. Or, like the other night, I'd want to comfort him, but would be worried about how he might misinterpret that.
It never used to be like this. Maybe that's just part of having a close friend of the opposite sex. As a kid, you don't think anything about it. Then you're a teenager, and you can't help but think about it. — Kelley Armstrong

Please," he whispered. His voice was low but clear. "Don't hurt me anymore."
Attolia recoiled. Once, as a child, she'd thrown her slipper in a rage and had knocked an amphora of oil from its pedestal. The amphora had been a favorite of hers. It had smashed, and the scent of the hair oil inside had lingered for days. She remembered the scent still, though she didn't know what in the stinking cell had brought it to mind. — Megan Whalen Turner

I'd seen Sage bleed. I'd made Sage bleed. Not that it hurt him any; he healed so quickly ... In smaller doses it has incredible healing powers. Ben's voice rang out in my head. I remembered he said that earlier, about ... the Elixir of Life.The crackpot, completely bogus, absolutely insane Elixir of Life.Did it actually exist? Had Sage had some? Enough to keep him alive, young, and speed-healing for the last five hundred years?And if so, had he used that time to find one woman, again and again in different incarnations, to love her ... or destroy her? — Hilary Duff

I moved closer as I dragged myself through the frozen bracken. "Who's coming?" My voice trembled like an autumn leaf in the wind.
"Your Angels," he replied breathily right before he crumpled to the ground in a great heap.
My body went into sensory overload. I was hurt, angry, broken, sad, terrified, and ... hopeful. He said my Angels were coming. — Laura Kreitzer

This man took my last son. No one could claim my hurt, or my anger. No one could have a greater claim on this one's life." Her voice was tight and fierce. She patted Ray's arm. "There's been enough killing down here. We have to find a way to live without the killing. — Robert Crais

Yes. But ... " She stroked the smooth backs of her claws down his arms. "You'll have to spend eternity making it up to me."
He released her to lever himself above her, cupping the back of her neck. His gaze flickered over her face, then met the eyes of his wife as she smiled up at him. Feeling love for her so strong it hurt him, his voice ragged with it, he rasped, "Milaya, it is done. — Kresley Cole

Are you hurt?" Alex asked.

Chris felt his chest seize with panic. "No, are you?" he asked quickly.

"No," Alex replied. "My head hurts, but I'm guessing that's because I was knocked out."

"Yeah," Chris said, trying to ignore the pounding in his skull. "Mine too." He let out a frustrated breath. "Thanks a lot!"

There was a pause before Alex asked, "You're blaming me for this?"

"You distracted me," Chris accused. "If you hadn't been there, I would have sensed the attack."

"Yeah, sure," Alex said, sarcasm thick in his voice. "You would have sensed it. You have great intuition, after all."

"Shut up!" Chris barked. — S.F. Mazhar

Do you remember when I told you that I sometimes believe that you're not real? That I imagined you just to hurt myself?" Reed says softly with a bitterly self-effacing laugh that has nothing to do with humor. "I know now that you have to be real. This kind of pain cannot exist if you were imaginary," Reed's sexy voice breathes. I feel like I could reach out and touch him, he feels that close to me. "I know you exist, but you're like a sunset to me now - beautiful and so distant that no matter how fast I fly, I cannot reach you. You are always on the next horizon," Reed says sadly, and my breath catches in my throat as an unbelievable ache throbs in my chest. "Tel me where you are. I wil meet you
wherever you are in the world. I wil be there. Just you and me, I swear it. We don't have to endanger anyone else
we'l make sure Buns and Brownie and Zephyr are safe. Just you and me, I promise ... I wil meet you anywhere at anytime ... I wil ... — Amy A. Bartol

His own voice was older than he was. Ancient, unearthed from some mystical subterranean place ... The voice seemed to make his whole body ache. Maybe it made him bleed inside. I wondered if it hurt, if it burned in his throat. — Francesca Lia Block

Then your tail will divide and shrink until it becomes what the people on earth call a pair of shapely legs. But it will hurt; it will feel as if a sharp sword slashed through you. Everyone who sees you will say that you are the most graceful human being they have ever laid eyes on, for you will keep your gliding movement and no dancer will be able to tread as lightly as you. But every step you take will feel as if you were treading upon knife blades so sharp that blood must flow. I am willing to help you, but are you willing to suffer all this?"
"Yes," the little mermaid said in a trembling voice, as she thought of the Prince and of gaining a human soul. — Hans Christian Andersen

Go past the insecurity. Go past the little voice that says doing that thing will hurt you. Instead let the pain flow through you, and just hold on. At that very point, you will find yourself invincible. — Rishank Jhavar

The force of the blast did not scatter the crystals, as Bridget's common sense told her it absolutely should have. Instead it just seemed to disperse, spreading out like a wave. Where the wave spread, the little crystals burst into hot, angry light. And abruptly and all at once, they rose into the air in a cloud of glowing motes. Folly appeared among them, striding forward, flickers of light dancing along her candy-stripe hair, her mismatched eyes blazing. Sark loosed several more blasts, all of which dispersed into the crystals, making them glow with even brighter light. Folly's voice rang out, cold and hard. "We don't like it when people try to hurt our friends." And the entire cloud of crystals flew at Sark like bullets loosed from a gun. Sark — Jim Butcher

I trusted you," Evan bellowed, as the distance grew between us. I stopped and turned back around. He walked towards me until we were only a foot apart. "I trusted you, and you couldn't trust me."
I stared back, watching the hurt reveal itself in his eyes. My heart ached in return.
"I unpacked for the first time ever - for you. I was honest with you about everything-even with the truth about how I felt about you. I've never been that honest before. I trusted you." His voice drifted into a whisper as he leaned closer to me. "Why couldn't you trust me? — Rebecca Donovan

I never could have done that last one without you." Her voice was both shy and lovely. "You know ... my birth sire? He never did anything like that for me. He never ... he didn't even want me to go to the clinic. You know, even though I was hurt..." She cleared her throat. "So thank you. You're the best father ever. — J.R. Ward

Thirteen years old, I thought to myself, but I felt a spear of admiration for the girl. When I'd been sad, I hurt myself. Amma hurt other people. When I'd wanted attention, I'd submitted myself to boys: Do what you want; just like me. Amma's sexual offerings seemed a form of aggression. Long skinny legs and slim wrists and high, babied voice, all aimed like a gun. Do what I want; I might like you. — Gillian Flynn

He wasn't in a lot of pain, was he?" he asks. "Not that I could tell." He was convulsing but not in pain. I doubt he was feeling much. "That's my biggest fear. That he'll be in a lot of pain when it happens. It scares me to death." "So you've thought about it," I blurt out. I want to take it back immediately, but it's too late. "Thought about it." He snorts. "It's all I ever fucking think about. Ever." His voice cracks on the last word. "I'm his big brother. I'm supposed to be able to save him from anything that could hurt him. But I can't save him from this." I just listen because there's nothing I can say to comfort him. A teardrop rolls down his cheek, and he brushes it away with a hurried swipe. "He knows how much you care," I say. It's probably the wrong thing to tell him. "The fucker better know how I feel about him. I'd die for every last one of them. I wish it was me instead of him. I'd trade places with him in a heartbeat." "He wouldn't let you." It's the truth. — Tammy Falkner

I'm scared," she told him softly, her voice wobbling. "Every time I love, I get hurt."
"Sometimes love is about hurting, Violet." He brushed the backs of his fingers over her cheeks, dashing away her tears. "But the pleasure in love is greater than the pain. So much greater. You just have to be willing to take that leap. — Jessica Clare

I thought about how Bree and I were so different... and yet so similar. She carried the guilt of not fighting when she thought she should have, and I carried the scar of what happened when you did. We had each reacted differently in a moment of terror, and yet we both still hurt. Maybe there was no right or wrong, no black or white, only a thousand shades of gray when it came to pain and what we each held ourselves responsible for. ~Archer, Ch.15 — Mia Sheridan

ALYCE: 'Gracie's got brown hair, like me. She's about the same height, too. People notice her. I think it's her voice. It's always louder than you expect and covered with laughter.
I was surprised when she said she didn't want to work with me. I don't know Gracie very well, but I remember once in Year 3 she gave me an invitation to her party. She spelt my name right. Everyone always spells it with an 'i', even the teachers. Ever since then I thought she would be nice. I never thought she'd look at me like I was nothing. — Cath Crowley

This isn't over. I won't give up on you."
"I've given up on you," he said back, voice also soft. "Love fades. Mine has."
I stared at him in disbelief. All this time, he'd never phrased it like that. His protests had always been about some greater good, about the remorse he felt over being a monster of how it had scarred him from love. I've given up on you. Love fades. Mine has.
I backed up, the sting of those words hitting me as hard as if he'd slapped me. Something shifted in his features, like maybe he knew how much he'd hurt me. I didn't stick around to see. Instead, I pushed my way out of the aisle and ran out the doors in the back, afraid that if I stayed any longer, everyone in the church would see me cry. — Richelle Mead

I get to keep you," he said, staring at me with an
intensity that made me shiver.
"Keep me?" I asked, reaching up to kiss his chin and trail
kisses down his perfect neck.
"Not here. I can't take much more, Pagan. I'm only so
strong," he said in a husky voice as he pulled me against his
chest. "You're mine now. While you walk the Earth you
belong to me. Nothing can hurt you." I heard a touch of
humor in his voice. "It's pretty impossible to hurt what Death
protects. — Abbi Glines

Gemma, I'm not going to hurt you." His voice is as smooth as silk as he winds around the bed, his radiant, green eyes fixed on me. "I promise I won't hurt you. Everything's okay."
I laugh sharply as I put weight on my weak legs. "That's the biggest lie I've ever heard come out of your mouth, which says a lot since you're the biggest liar I've ever met. — Jessica Sorensen

The gremlin stopped, blinking up at me with an almost hurt expression. 'Master punish bad kitty?' he said in a pitiful voice.
'No I'm not going to punish the bad kitty,' I said and Grimalkin snorted.
'And you aren't either. I want to talk to you. Will you stay and not run off if we let you go?'
He bobbed his head, as best as he could while his ears were gripped tightly by Puck. 'Master wants Razor stay, Razor stay. Not move until told. Promise. — Julie Kagawa

Perhaps we can take a turn in the garden. The slave can avail himself of the garden seat and rest his injuries'
'How thoughtful of you, Councillor,' said Laurent. He turned to Damen and said in a melting voice, 'Your back must hurt terribly.'
'It's fine,' said Damen.
'Kneel on the ground then,' Laurent said. — C.S. Pacat

But aside from those curling green tendrils, the gown was the bright pink of ... of ... of ... All comparisons failed Oliver. It wasn't the bright pink of anything. It was a furious shade of pink, one that nature had never intended. It was a pink that did violence to the notion of demure pastels. It didn't just shout for attention; it walked up and clubbed one over the head. It hurt his head, that pink, and yet he couldn't look away. The room was small enough that he could hear the first words of greeting. "Miss Fairfield," a woman said. "Your gown is ... very pink. And pink is ... such a lovely color, isn't it?" That last was said with a wistful quality in the speaker's voice, as if she were mourning the memory of true pink. — Courtney Milan

I didn't know a living person could hurt you so badly.
When the pain originates with someone who is gone, it's your own memory that hurts you. Walking through the house, touching things they've touched, hearing sounds they heard, wondering what they would've thought of one thing or another. This is pain that I know, pain that I can handle, pain that is so much a part of me that if it were removed I would not be whole.
But when it's someone who's alive who hurts you, the pain can't be escaped. The things they've touched are still warm because they were just there, the sounds they hear reach your ears too - sometimes their own voice, and it's excruciating to bear. I know what he thinks about this, that, or the other because I can hear him saying so. But not to me. He doesn't talk to me anymore. — Mindy McGinnis

Samuel," Amelie said, and her voice was low and quiet and warm. She bent closer to him. "Samuel. Come back to me."
His eyes opened, and they were all pupil. Scary owl eyes. Claire bit her lip and thought again about running, but Hans and Gretchen were at her back and she knew she didn't have a chance, anyway.
Sam blinked, and his pupils began to shrink slowly to a more normal size. His lips moved, but no sound came out.
"Breathe in," Amelie said, in that same quiet, warm tone. "I'm here, Samuel. I won't leave you." She stroked fingers gently over his forehead, and he blinked again and slowly focused on her.
It was like there was nobody else in all the world, just the two of them. Amelie was wrong, Claire thought. It isn't just that Sam loves her. She loves him just as much. — Rachel Caine

Thack seemed to sort something out for a moment.
"Sometimes I watch him when he's playing with Harry or digging in the yard. And I think: This is it, this is the guy I've waited for all my life. Then this other voice tells me not to get used to it, that it'll only hurt more later. It's funny. You're feeling this enormous good fortune and waiting for it to be over at the same time."
"You seem happy," Brian ventured.
"I am."
"Well ... that's a lot. I envy you that."
Thack shrugged. "All we've got is now, I guess. But that's all anybody gets. If we wasted that time being scared ... "
"Absolutely. — Armistead Maupin

Don't stop talking to me, Makenna. I need your words. Your voice."
"I don't know what to say is all. I want to take away your hurt."
His cheek lifted into a smile under her hand. "Thank you. But sometimes I think I need it. It reminds me I'm alive. And it makes the good times that much better. Like right now, being here, with you. — Laura Kaye

This is real. So real I feel it everywhere, like a million tiny vibrations under my skin. This ... this urgency to protect you ... " My breath burst in and out, and my voice thickened with the messy, unfiltered truth. "It's a crazy need inside me, driving me to be near you, to watch over you, to undo the hurt I put in your eyes. I don't fucking know what it is, but I feel it now, spinning me around - around you - and knocking me way the fuck off track. — Pam Godwin

Lose his face? Like it would fall off?" the voice asked, confused.
The prince laughed. "Man, what rock have you been living under?"
"Why? What's so wrong with living under a rock?" The voice sounded hurt. — Antje Hergt

You will be the first test subject, Tobias. Beatrice, however ... " She smiles. "You are too injured to be of much use to me, so your execution will occur at the conclusion of this meeting."
I try to hide the shudder that goes through me at the word "execution," my shoulder screaming with pain, and look up at Tobias. It's hard to blink tears back when I see the terror in Tobias's wide, dark eyes.
"No," says Tobias. His voice trembles, but his look stern as he shakes his head. "I would rather die."
"I'm afraid you don't have much of a choice in that matter," replies Jeanine lightly.
Tobias takes my face in this hands roughly and kisses me, the pressure of his lips pushing mine apart. I forget my pain and the terror of approaching death and for a moment, I am grateful that the memory of that kiss will be fresh in my mind as I meet my end. — Veronica Roth

Love is never safe," Tina repeats. "It's weird. It's magical. It's the moment when you break through the dark shell that protects your heart and say, this, this person. I'm going to let this person in, let him come so close that he can hurt me more than I can possibly imagine. I'm going to let him hurt me." She inhales. "Love is never safe." "And yet," I say, "we do it anyway." "We do it anyway." Her voice is a quiet echo of mine, but her hands close on mine. — Courtney Milan

I'm interested in pitches that have compelling people and ideas at the core - and a good news peg certainly doesn't hurt. We look for stories that are solutions-oriented, but not irrationally upbeat, from writers with a strong voice. For LadyJournos, where I'm curating not editing. — Ann Friedman

Romeo came forward and grabbed me by the shoulders. "What the hell were you thinking?"
I stared at him blankly.
He blew out a frustrated breath. "You got in between me and a chair, Rimmel."
"He was going to hit you," I said, grim. "I wasn't just going to stand there. I won't let him hurt you."
"I'd rather him hurt me than you." His voice was gentle. Then he smirked. "That chair wouldn't have hurt me anyway. — Cambria Hebert

I keep my eyes closed as tightly as I can, but in my mind, everyone in the square looks like my father and they all have his voice. I hate you all. I imagine my hands at their throats, choking, silencing them, one by one. — Marie Lu

The Supreme Leader's voice was flat. "You have compassion for her." "No - never. Compassion? For an enemy of the Order?" "I perceive the problem," Snoke intoned. "It isn't her strength that is making you fail. It's your weakness." The rebuke hurt, but Ren didn't show it. — Alan Dean Foster

I-" said Nick, his voice halting. "I don't mind it as much when - when people touch me. Some people."
Mae looked down, and Nick, who looked more relaxed when he'd been stabbed, slowly lifted his hand from his chest and laid it on the tumbled sheets between them, fingers half-curled into his palm. He was still regarding the ceiling with a fixed glare.
"Because you trust them not to hurt you?" Mae asked tentatively.
"No," Nick said, his voice harsh. "Because I'd let them hurt me. — Sarah Rees Brennan

Lily slumped, putting her shaking hands on his shoulders. "But you will, won't you?" Pansy's voice broke into a sob.
"Yes, Pan," Galen said quietly.
"I don't like that," Pansy said. Galen stood and put his arms around the fine-boned girl, while Rose continued to comfort Lily. Oliver looked away. It was such a private moment; he hated to intrude on it. Galen was beloved by all of the sisters, but the love between him and Rose was so clear and shining that it hurt to look at them, spending their last hours together caring for the other girls. — Jessica Day George

Did he hurt you? The emotion I was trying to suppress clawed at my throat, unleashed by the gentleness in Philip's voice. Without warning, a tear slipped down my cheek. I swiped it away. — Julianne Donaldson

He stepped back with exaggerated courtesy. But when I walked past him, he swatted my rump. Hard enough to sting.
"You need to be more careful," he growled. "Keep interfering in my business and you might get hurt."
I said sweetly as I continued to Jesse's room, "The last man who swatted me like that is rotting in his grave."
"I have no doubt about it." His voice was more satisfied then contrite. — Patricia Briggs

Tenleigh," Kyland said, his voice gravelly. "Please don't cry." He stepped toward me. "Anything but that. Please." He sounded desperate. "This is what I've been trying to avoid. This. I don't want either of us to feel this way.
He'd been pulling away from me to make it easier. And yet pulling away only made it hurt more.
"Well, I do! And you don't get to take that from me. I love you, and you don't get to say anything about it. The love I feel for you is mine. And I'll feel it if I want to. — Mia Sheridan

Excuse me, Princess. For a moment, my heart leaped at the soft, deep voice. The voice that could either be Rowan's or Ash's, they sounded so much alike. Bracing myself, I turned, but it wasn't Ash standing there. Thankfully, it wasn't Rowan, either. It was the other brother, the oldest of the three. Sage. Dammit, he's gorgeous also. What was with this family, that all the sons were so freaking handsome it hurt to look at them? — Julie Kagawa

We shouldn't be doing this. We shouldn't have done this. She's my sister."
"Don't say that," Silas murmurs into my hair, voice genuinely pleading. "Please don't ever say that."
"We're hunters," I choke.
"Yes. Of course we are. We're ... we're more ... but ... " He shakes his head and pushes me out to arm's length, lowering his head to look me in the eyes. "I didn't mean for us to hurt her, Rosie, but I wouldn't take any of it back. I couldn't take any of it back - I love you too much. — Jackson Pearce

Keep talking to me," he whispers.
I pause. "Doesn't noise hurt your head?"
Thick lashes cast shadows at the tops of his cheeks. "Your voice isn't noise. It's a song I want to hear over and over."
Oh. My. — Kristen Callihan

I give ye my vow as Laird of the Mackenzie clan that if I happen to encounter the man who hurt ye, I'll put my dagger through his eye." He'd done his best to keep his voice light, but he meant every word.
She stepped back into his embrace with an ironic noise. "And they say Highlanders aren't romantic. — Kerrigan Byrne

I'm afraid my closely guarded solitude causes some hurt feelings now and then. But how to explain, without wounding someone, that you want to be wholly in the world you are writing about, that it would take two days to get the visitor's voice out of the house so that you could listen to your own characters again? — Margaret Bourke-White

Uneducated therapists often have an inability to cope with the behaviors of persecutory alters. They commonly focus on helping one side of the personality system and battling with the other side. When "Satan" or some similar part talks in a deep scary voice to you or to the client, it is easy to think this is a nasty perpetrator or a supernatural being, and to and to oppose it or fight with it or try to banish it. However, if you do this, you will engender the hostility of this part, who has probably been very badly hurt and told a lot of lies. You will foster internal splitting in this way, and get nowhere fast.
Once you recognize that these alters have a protective intent, you can see that working with them involves enlisting them in the service of healing, just as they were originally enlisted in the cause of safety. You will see examples of these kinds of errors, which often result in clients leaving their therapists, in survivor LisaBri's story: When therapists make mistakes. — Alison Miller

It's about people who take their frustration out on everyone around them. I never raise my voice. Cutting myself or hurting myself is the way I deal with anger. — Richey Edwards

O God, don't let them hurt Lord le Wyse. Help me, God. I have to save him. Why? the voice in her head asked. Why do you have to save him? The voice answered itself. Because you love him. I do! O God, I do love him. She'd loved him for a long time, and she suddenly wanted to tell him so, more than anything. But first she had to get to him before anyone else - before it was too late. — Melanie Dickerson

Whoa, whoa, whoa," Mark said. "It couldn't have been that long. It happened to us just a few days ago." "I don't like it ... when people doubt my words," Jed said, his tone changing drastically in the middle of his sentence. It suddenly turned threatening. "How can you sit there and accuse me of lying? Why would I lie about such a thing? I've tried to make peace with you, give you a second chance in this life, and this is how you repay me?" His voice had risen in volume with every passing word until he was shouting, his body trembling. "It ... it makes my head hurt." Mark could tell Alec was about to explode, so he quickly reached over and squeezed his arm. "Don't," he whispered. "Just don't." Then he returned his attention to Jed. "No, listen, please. It's not like that. We just want to understand. Our village had the ... — James Dashner

You are the least sane person I've had the
misfortune to meet."
The corners of her eyes pinched a little, just for the
barest second, then cleared. "Well, there are plenty
more people for you to meet, Mr. Merrick, so do not
give up hope yet." But the tone of her voice was far
too cheerful.
He watched her for a moment. Watched as her
face cleared of anything remotely hurt or upset. "Do
you object to being called insane or my saying that I
had the misfortune of meeting you?"
"Neither, of course."
He drummed his finger on the desk, irritated and,
God, how did people live feeling guilty about things?
"You are just fine as you are," he said gruffly.
Her expression froze for a moment, then bloomed
into a smile that would slay demons. — Anne Mallory

If my decisions constantly heed the voice of the world, I can be completely assured that I'm going to end up in a 'world of hurt.' If my decisions heed the word of God, I can be completely assured that this 'world of hurt' won't be anywhere near my solar system. — Craig D. Lounsbrough

I know what it feels like to miss everything about him
the way he smells, the way his mouth curls up when he laughs, his voice. — Travis Neighbor Ward

19Then the king arose very early in the morning, and went in haste unto the den of lions. 20And when he came to the den, he cried with a lamentable voice unto Daniel: and the king spake and said to Daniel, O Daniel, servant of the living God, is thy God, whom thou servest continually, able to deliver thee from the lions? + 21Then said Daniel unto the king, O king, live for ever. 22My God hath sent his angel, and hath shut the lions' mouths, that they have not hurt me: forasmuch as before him innocency was found in me; and also before thee, O king, have I done no hurt.* + — Anonymous

It used to be that when I made mistakes like this or came close to losing my life, I would just call Miguel. He'd drop it all to come to me - his movies, media engagements no matter how big they were, and even his criminal activities went on hold for me. It made me think he cared.
Miguel canceled an appearance on the Dave Letterman show just because he called me and thought my voice sounded like something was wrong.
He directed his gaze to the bruises decorating my face. "You said you weren't hurt."
With those big arms, he picked me up and slammed the door behind us. "When I ask you if you're okay, you tell me the truth. — Kenya Wright

Lucy was frightened, frightened near to death. Her voice choked, she could not breath, her limbs went numb. "This is not happening", she said to herself as the men forced her down; "it is just a dream, a nightmare". While the men, for their part, drank up her fear, revelled in it, did all they could to hurt her, to menace her, to heighten her terror. "Call your dogs!" they said to her. "Go on, call your dogs! No dogs? Then let us show you dogs! — J.M. Coetzee

What I can't stand is that arrogance of yours," said Hatsumi in a soft voice. "Whether you sleep with other women or not is beside the point. I've never really been angry with you for sleeping around, have I?"
"You can't even call what I do sleeping around.It's just a game. Nobody gets hurt," said Nagasawa.
"I get hurt," said Hatsumi. "Why am I not enough for you?"
Nagasawa kept silent for a moment and swirled the whisky in his glass. "It's not that you're not enough for me. That's another phase, another question. It's just a hunger I have inside me. If I've hurt you, I'm sorry. But it's not a question of whether or not you're enough for me. I can only live with that hunger. That's the kind of man I am. That's what makes me me. There's nothing I can do about it, don't you see? — Haruki Murakami

Jesus! We can't just sit here and twiddle our thumbs. Who's the brains of this outfit, anyway?"
"I think that was Shaw," Carl said wryly as his mind landed on an idea. "Before he went mad' that is. Now I suppose it's you, God help us. "
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Shawn asked in a hurt voice. "I've not gone mad!"
"Uh huh. What's the plan, Dixie?" Carl asked as he spared Shawn a glance before turning his gaze back on Remy. Remy blinked at him.
"You can't put him in charge," Shawn protested. "We'll be in the shit and he'll stop to get an ice cream, for fuck's sake!"
"What's wrong with ice cream?" Remy asked in an insulted voice.
"I think you missed the point of the comment," Thiago muttered as he sat down in the kitchen besid Nikolaus. — Abigail Roux

Stop, or I'll shoot," the voice cried, scared, almost begging.

Caine stopped. Drake stood beside him.

"Shoot?" Caine demanded, sounding puzzled. "Why on earth would you shoot me?"

"That's we're opposed to do."

Caine laughed. "You can't even say it right. Who are you, anyway? If you're going to shoot me, I should know your name."

"Josh," the answer came. "It's me, Josh."

"It's me Josh," Caine mimicked.

Drake snarled, "You better step off, me Josh, or me Whip Hand is going to hurt you. — Michael Grant

Whoever it was that hurt you," he said in a low voice that rumbled through her, "was an idiot."
They were just inches apart as she agreed, "Yes, he was."
"Rumor has it," he said with a small smile that drew her in closer for the kiss she was trying not to give him, "that my IQ is quite high."
How could she possibly fight her feelings for him when he didn't just make her burn but made her laugh, too?
"Is that so?"
"One hundred sixty, and my mother still has the test results to prove it," he said with a grin. — Bella Andre