Quotes & Sayings About Not Getting Hurt Again

Friends. Strange indeed. There's just so much at risk, including my heart and mental stability - which are both still extremely fragile. I'm getting better but my heart still aches for you. I'm also having a hard time dealing with the fear. I don't want to be sad anymore. I don't want to cry, worry, or be scared anymore. I just wish I could feel free and happy again. If I can't talk to you at all, it's unbearable. If I talk to you too much, it's unbearable. It doesn't leave much. I want us both to be happy. I just want everything to be okay for you and me. I don't want anyone else to hurt. I feel like I've hurt enough for everyone. I've cried enough tears to fill everyone's bucket. — Elizabeth Scott

Wishing is bad," he said again. "It makes you hurt. Makes all the missing parts hurt, makes them open up new and makes them bleed."
xxx
"You take out a part of you," Roosevelt murmured. "Take it out and blow on it and toss it to the winds like dust, and you say, 'Find all the missing parts of me. Go out among the world and find the missing parts of me.' But instead of getting back what you lost you just lose more. Wishing is bad. Wish long enough and there won't be any of you left. — Robert Jackson Bennett

They cramp around our wounds - the pain from our childhood, the losses and disappointments of adulthood, the humiliations suffered in both - to keep us from getting hurt in the same place again, to keep foreign substances out. So those wounds never have a chance to heal. Perfectionism is one way our muscles cramp. In some cases we don't even know that the wounds and the cramping are there, but both limit us. — Anne Lamott

So you're like a ... an amateur sleuth?"
"God no. I'm more like the hapless guys in those film-noir flicks we used to watch. I keep getting tangled up in bizarro events."
"Oh yes?" His eyes lit with enthusiasm. I was speaking his language now. "Guy Pearce in L.A. Confidential or William Hurt in Body Heat?"
"I was thinking more like Woody Allen in Play It Again, Sam. — Josh Lanyon

Davy,
Didn't you realize that the only thing I wanted from Mark was his version of the night you,
well, removed him from the party? I know Mark is a sleaze. I'm not involved with him in any
way, but when you vanished from in front of me, what was I to think?
I don't know if you're even human. For all I knew you fly around in a flying saucer kidnapping
humans left and right. If this sort of jumping to conclusions bothers you, think how much
alternative explanation you offered.
I know you're hurt, and I guess you were hurt even more when you thought I was getting
involved with Mark again. But, dammit, you are doing your share of lashing out, yourself.
Millie
P.S. I still don't know if you are human, but I know that I care for you enough that you can
hurt me. You did. — Steven Gould

We still hadn't learned, though, that growing up is all about getting hurt. And then getting over it. You hurt. You recover. You move on. Odds are pretty good you're just going to get hurt again. But each time, you learn something. Each time, you come out of it a little stronger, and at some point you realize that there are more flavors of pain than coffee. — Jim Butcher

Growing up is all about getting hurt. And then getting over it. You hurt. You recover. You move on. Odds are pretty good you're just going to get hurt again. But each time, you learn something. Each time you come out of it a little stronger, and at some point you realize there are more flavors of pain than coffee ... Pain does two things: it teaches you, tells you that you're alive. Then it passes away and leaves you changed ... and everything that will ever happen to you in life is going to involve it in one way or another. (pg. 282) — Jim Butcher

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 tattoo artist inflicts pain and I take it. With each breath I count to one again. Each inhale, each exhale, time passes in the smallest of pieces, and pieces still smaller than those.
This is how you count a life. This is how you go through it. Each second of hurt is a second that's already passed, one you never have to go through again. I have counted in pieces that small, when walking from the bed to the fridge seemed an insurmountable goal. I have counted my breaths, my steps, my eye-blinks, my hiccups, the tiny pulse in my thumb. And when I started getting tattooed, two of the things I used to need were gone: to write on myself, and to find irrelevant things to count. A second of intense pain is the most profound thing you can live through. And another, and another, and another, and then you know what it is to feel, and to struggle through that feeling one small agonizing increment at a time, and if you know that, you know what it is to live with mental illness. — Stacy Pershall

I think that something similar happens with our psychic muscles. They cramp around our wounds - the pain from our childhood, the losses and disappointments of adulthood, the humiliations suffered in both - to keep us from getting hurt in the same place again, to keep foreign substances out. So those wounds never have a chance to heal. Perfectionism is one way our muscles cramp. In some cases we don't even know that the wounds and the cramping are there, but both limit us. They keep us moving and writing in tight, worried ways. They keep us standing back or backing away from life, keep us from experiencing life in a naked and immediate way. — Anne Lamott

After everything happened with you and me, I tried to heal. I knew that I needed to forget you and move on. I hurt so much; everyday felt like a death sentence. I mourned you like you were dead and then, I met Leah. We were set up on a blind date and I remember feeling hope that day. It was the first day in a year that I felt hope. We took our time getting to know each other, I bought her a ring." He shot me a look to see if I remembered the iceberg.
"And then, all of a sudden I missed you again. I mean, I never stopped missing you, but this time it hit me hard. I couldn't go to sleep for a single night without seeing you in my dreams. I compared everything Leah did to everything I remembered about you. It was like the old wound opened itself up again and I was bleeding out my feelings for you." I close my eyes at his words. Words that I want to hear badly but that are making my heart ache so terribly I can barely breathe. — Tarryn Fisher

Our psychic muscles. They cramp around our wounds - the pain from our childhood, the losses and disappointments of adulthood, the humiliations suffered in both - to keep us from getting hurt in the same place again, to keep foreign substances out. So those wounds never have a chance to heal. Perfectionism is one way our muscles cramp. In some cases we don't even know that the wounds and the cramping are there, but both limit us. They keep us moving and writing in tight, worried ways. They keep us standing back or backing away from life, keep us from experiencing life in a naked and immediate way. So — Anne Lamott

Well, golly gee, I'm so sorry that you had to answer an awkward question at lunch. That must have been so inconvenient. Much more inconvenient than getting hit in the face with a tampon flying out of your locker." When he grins, I totally lose it. All the frustration and hurt comes rolling out of me. I'm tired of playing the good, calm girl. I rise up on my knees, reach over and hit him across the top of his head. "Fuck," he curses. "What the hell was that for?" "That's for being an asshole!" I hit him again, — Erin Watt

With friends, if you keep making an effort to reach out and you keep getting hurt, you eventually stop trying. But it's much harder to give up on family. Somewhere deep down you want it to work so badly that you keep making the same mistake over and over again. — Tori Spelling

He tried to remember Moon Child's eyes, but was no longer able to. He was sure of only one thing: that her glance had passed through his eyes and down into his heart. He could still feel the burning trail it had left behind. That glance, he felt, was embedded in his heart, and there it glittered like a mysterious jewel. And in a strange and wonderful way it hurt.
Even if Bastian had wanted to, he couldn't have defended himself against this thing that had happened to him. However, he didn't want to. Oh no, not for anything in the world would he have parted with that jewel. All he wanted was to go on reading, to see Moon Child again, to be with her.
IT never occurred to him that he was getting into the most unusual and perhaps the most dangerous of adventures. But even if he had known this, he wouldn't have dreamed of shutting the book. — Michael Ende

In life we come across people who ditch us, break us. But we still continue to trust. We are scared of getting hurt again but we still trust, still share and still open our hearts to them. Why? Why do we trust even after knowing that people change? — Anonymous

Back in grade school, my shrinks tried to channel my viciousness into a constructive outlet, so I cut things with scissors. Heavy, cheap fabrics Diane bought by the bolt. I sliced through them with old metal shears going up and down: hateyouhateyouhateyou. The soft growl of the fabrics as I sliced it apart, and that perfect last moment, when your thumb is getting sore and your shoulders hurt from hunching and cut, cut, cut ... free, the fabric now swaying in two pieces in your hands, a curtain parted. And then what? That's how I felt now, like I'd been sawing away at something and come to the end and here I was by myself again, in my small house with no job, no family, and I was holding two ends of fabric and didn't know what to do next. — Gillian Flynn

the reality of fear:
your not afraid of the dark, your afraid of what's in it.
your not afraid of heights, your afraid of falling.
your not afraid of the people around you, your afraid of what they might think.
your not afraid to love, your afraid of love not coming back.
your not afraid to try again, your afraid of getting hurt for the same reason. — Lucy

If you cannot forgive because of hurt inflicted by others, you will be unwilling to be vulnerable for fear of being hurt again. Because people are sinners, you cannot love and you cannot minister without getting hurt. — Walter A. Henrichsen

That growing up is all about getting hurt. And then getting over it. You hurt. You recover. You move on. Odds are pretty good you're just going to get hurt again. But each time, you learn something. — Jim Butcher

We hide our pain to keep us from getting hurt again. In the process we hurt people who never aimed to hurt us. — Pierre Alex Jeanty

He looked stunned. "That's not what I - "
"It was," she said, interrupting him. "You acted like a vamp, Michael. Like any vamp getting
back-talked by a human. You could have gotten us hurt. You could have gotten Eve killed!"
Michael looked at Shane, who lifted his shoulders in a tiny, apologetic shrug. "She's not
wrong, bro."
"That's not what it was," Michael insisted. "I was just trying to - look, Eve started it."
"Hey! That thump you heard was me under the bus, there! "
Shane shrugged again. "And now Michael's not wrong. Hey, I like this game. I don't have to
be the wrong one for once in my life."
"Shut up, Shane," Eve snapped. "What about you, Miss Oh, sir, please let my friends go; I'm
such a delicate little flower? What a crock of shit, Claire! — Rachel Caine

I need to move on and take chances when
they find me. To be fearless even if it means getting hurt again. — Kate Le Vann

The guy who was punching me was a lot burlier than I was, so it hurt plenty. But I tried to pretend it didn't bother me at all, that I actually liked it. It was hard to do this convincingly, because he had kind of knocked the wind out of me there, so all I could do was smile and wink and give him the thumbs up while I waited to be able to breath again. He thought I was making fun of him and started punching me in the stomach harder. Meanwhile, I'm not any closer to getting my breath back. Some days are like that. — John Swartzwelder

He'd never had sex like this before. Usually it was sweat and panting and driving each other insane until they came. And then maybe they'd collapse together if they liked each other well enough, and maybe they'd catch their breath and do it all over again until sleep took over and tomorrow hurt. This ... this was all that and more. Every touch, every kiss, every frantic, trembling movement, added up to something he'd never imagined. This wasn't the cooperative pursuit of pleasure and orgasms. They held each other, clawed at each other, like they thought they might actually start fusing together. Molecule by molecule, cell by cell, not just getting under each other's skin but becoming part of each other. One thing that could only become two again if it was broken. — L.A. Witt

The fear of this delicate and fierce feminine has more to do with our fear of being vulnerable again, getting hurt again, than it does by our actual distaste for the beauty of the feminine and Her qualities. — Alanis Morissette

I don't tell her that my grasp on truth, on words, on people, has slipped. I was getting close, so close to normal again, and that's been snatched away. I'm not even back where I started. I'm somewhere else entirely, so far off the map I don't know where to turn next. — Daisy Whitney

The way to win our heart back is to venture again, to risk giving, receiving and trusting again, and of course to risk getting hurt again, but deciding to forgive and to no longer use the hurt or fear to keep ourselves in prison. — Nick Williams

December 25, 10:35 p.m.
Dear America,
It's nearly bedtime, and I'm trying to relax, but I can't. All I can think about is you. I'm terrified you're going to get hurt. I know someone would tell me if you weren't all right, and that has led to its own kind of paranoia. If anyone comes up to me to deliver a message, my heart stops for a moment, fearing the worst: You are gone. You're not coming back.
I wish you were here. I wish I could just see you.
You are never getting these letters. It's too humiliating.
I want you home. I keep thinking of your smile and worrying that I'll never see it again.
I hope you come back to me, America.
Merry Christmas.
Maxon — Kiera Cass

Now I hoard knowledge out of fear. I figure the more I know, the more I'll be able to control a situation and keep from getting hurt again. — Damien Echols

Getting rid of a man without hurting his masculinity is a problem. "Get out" and "I never want to see you again" might sound like a challenge. If you want to get rid of a man, I suggest saying, "I love you ... I want to marry you ... I want to have your children." Sometimes they leave skid marks. — John Wayne

This will happen again," Nathaniel explained. "Even if we manage not to hurt each other, eventually one of us will get sick or get bored, or someone else will get in the way. Maybe they won't mean to. Maybe my mom will need me when she's older and I'll have to go to her - "
"I'd go with you," Kelly offered.
" - or maybe one of us will die young or maybe you'll fall out of love with me because emotions can't be controlled. Or maybe we'll get to a point where we want to hurt each other. I know that's hard to imagine now, but relationships only get more complicated as time goes by."
"So we better avoid them?" Kelly snapped. "Why do you even leave the house? Why aren't you constantly scared of getting hit by a car or shot by some random lunatic?"
Nathaniel exhaled." I never was before. Not until I fell in love with you. — Jay Bell

If I did something to hurt Frankie and she said that I was never getting near her heart again, I'd spent the rest of my life trying anyway. That's the difference between you and me, Tom. I'd go back to the moment it all fell apart and I'd start there. — Melina Marchetta

You can't go."
"Give me a reason why I shouldn't."
"Because I'll miss you, damn it!" she hissed, splaying her arms. "Because what's the point in anything if you just disappear forever?"
"The point in what, Celaena?" How could he be so calm when she was so frantic?
"The point in Skull's Bay, and the point in getting me that music, and the point in ... the point in telling Arobynn that you'd forgive him if he never hurt me again."
"You said you didn't care what I thought. Or what I did. Or if I died, if I'm not mistaken."
"I lied! And you know I lied you stupid bastard! — Sarah J. Maas

I've been hurt and disappointed so many times that, in a way, I have given up. My heart is finally healed, and I'm not sure I'm ready to expose it at the risk of it getting broken again. — Justine Faeth

FEARLESS' is not the absense of fear.
It's not being completely unafraid.
FEARLESS is having fears.
FEARLESS is having doubts. Lots of them.
FEARLESS is living in spite of those things that scare you to death.
FEARLESS is falling madly in love again, even though you've been hurt before.
FEARLESS is getting back up and fighting for what you want all over again ... even though every time you've tried before, you've lost.
It's FEARLESS to have faith that someday things will change.
FEARLESS is having the courage to say goodbye to someone who only hurts you, even if you can't breathe without them.
It's FEARLESS to say "you're NOT sorry," and walk away.
I think loving someone despite what people think is FEARLESS. — Taylor Swift

All I had to see was his face. Unaware of an audience, lost in the repeated rhythm of the piano riff, lit by the evening, it was like all of Cole's armor had fallen off. This was not the aggressively handsome, cocky guy that I had met a few days ago. This was just a boy getting to know a tune. He looked young and uncertain and endearing, and I felt betrayed that he was somehow getting himself together when I couldn't.
Somehow, he was yet again being honest, sharing another secret, when I didn't have anything I was willing to give in return. For once, I saw something in his eyes. I saw that he was feeling again, and that whatever he was feeling was hurting him.
I wasn't ready to hurt. — Maggie Stiefvater

We'll fight them. We took down my dad. We've taken down so many since then. We'll take down these jokesters too."
"I will never let anything happen to you," Nick growls into my hair. "I will die before you get hurt again. So help me God, Zara. I will die."
"Me too."
"What?"
"I will die before I let anyone hurt you or Issie or Dev or Gram or . . ." I stop and pull my head away from his chest so I can look up at him. "This list is getting kind of long and melodramatic, isn't it?"
He laughs. His hand moves slowly up my spine. He starts leaning down for a kiss. "Yeah. It is. — Carrie Jones

It's a risk-reward thing. If I do go out and try and play and get hurt again, then I'm definitely out. I've got no chance to go. If I'm ready, then great. It's getting better. I've been doing a lot more in the last couple of days. I've got a day off (on Wednesday) and then hope to come back in on Thursday and really see where I am at and test it out. Hopefully I'm going to play this weekend but, in reality, we'll see. — Steve Ralston

Wasn't it time she risked getting hurt again, instead of just accepting the numbness of never letting anyone in? — Jeaniene Frost