Quotes & Sayings About Recovering From A Broken Heart

We said it from the beginning. No strings. No regrets. We lay, tangled in a web of sheets, Limbs and anemic light, And we passed promises back and forth like slippery stars. You told me you were recovering from A broken heart. I told you I was recovering from A broken life. Fair enough, we agreed and laughed. We wrote stories on our bodies. Middles and endings Etched onto our feet and the palms of our hands. Our hopes were lettered in black and silver On a background of stark white flesh. We traded words on our tongues like tiny drops of melted sugar. — Autumn Doughton

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

She had told Erstwhile too much in the past, and thus he knew that occasionally she did go crazy. Sometimes it was when she felt particularly trapped or hopeless, or when the tunnels were unusually dark or stuffy, or when she got stuck in a crawl-through. Sometimes it happened for no obvious reason at all. She would feel a terrible panic tightening her chest and giving her heart a queasy lollop, she would be fighting for breath ... and then she would be recovering somewhere, shuddering and sick, devastation around her and her fingernails broken from clawing at the rock walls and ceilings. — Frances Hardinge