I Was Hurt Quotes

As a man, I have no problem saying I was hurt.

Have you ever been hurt and the place tries to heal a bit, and you just pull the scar off of it over and over again.

The reason it hurts so much to separate is because our souls are connected.

Love those who hurt you the most, because they are probably the ones closest to you.
They, too, are on a path, and just like you they are learning to walk before they can fly. Imagine of everybody you hurt in life turned their backs on you? You would be playing a hell of a lot of solitaire.
Love them no matter what.

Our prime purpose in this life is to help others. And if you can’t help them, at least don’t hurt them.

I was hurt so deep that I made up my mind never to hurt anybody else, no matter what. I never made jokes about anybody’s big ears, their stut-terin’, or about them bein’ off their nut.

I have found the paradox, that if you love until it hurts, there can be no more hurt, only more love.

One by one, drops fell from her eyes like they were on an assembly line – gather, fall, slide…gather, fall, slide…each one commemorating something she had lost. Hope. Faith. Confidence. Pride. Security. Trust. Independence. Joy. Beauty. Freedom. Innocence.

I have made terrible mistakes that have hurt the people that I cared about the most, and I am terribly sorry. I am deeply ashamed of my terrible judgment and my actions.

Truth is everybody is going to hurt you: you just gotta find the ones worth suffering for.

Words are singularly the most powerful force available to humanity. We can choose to use this force constructively with words of encouragement, or destructively using words of despair. Words have energy and power with the ability to help, to heal, to hinder, to hurt, to harm, to humiliate and to humble.

Do you know the feeling, when your heart is so hurt, that you could feel the blood dripping?

I took only twice a time-out, once, when I was hurt, and a second time, when I much felt I was exhausted out of personal reasons.

I love America. You always hurt the one you love.

Do we know our poor people? Do we know the poor in our house, in our family? Perhaps they are not hungry for a piece of bread. Perhaps our children, husband, wife, are not hungry, or naked, or dispossessed, but are you sure there is no one there who feels unwanted, deprived of affection?

My first injury ever was a broken toe, and my mother made me run laps around the mat for the rest of the night. She said she wanted me to know that even if I was hurt, I was still fine.

I watched my life as if it were happening to someone else. My son died. And I was hurt, but I watched my hurt, and even relished it, a little, for now I could write a real death, a true loss. My heart was broken by my dark lady, and I wept, in my room, alone; but while I wept, somewhere inside I smiled.