wounds Quotes

“I moved from body to body, treating blisters, wounds, frostbite. But I had no treatment for what plagued people most the most. Fear.”

“Stop treating your wound like it’s something you imagined. If you see the wound is real, then you can heal it.”

“I thought Ryan was dead. Actually, he was still alive, if just barely. The docs worked like hell to save him. Ryan would eventually be medevac’d out of Iraq. His wounds were severe—he’d never see again, not only out of the eye that had been hit but the other as well. It was a miracle that he lived. But at that moment at base, I was sure he was dead. I knew it in my stomach, in my heart, in every part of me. I’d put him in the spot where he got hit. It was my fault he’d been shot.”

“These words are razors to my wounded heart.”

“Nobody escapes being wounded. We all are wounded people, whether physically, emotionally, mentally, or spiritually.”

“As followers of Jesus we can also allow our wounds to bring healing to others.”

“Perhaps you’ll need me again sometime, against Kromer or something. If you call me then I won’t come crudely, on horseback or by train. You’ll have to listen within yourself, then you will notice that I am within you.”

“Fife…suddenly realized that he was free. He did not have to stay here any more. He was released. He could simply get up and walk away—provided he was able—with honor, without anyone being able to say he was a coward or courtmartialing him or putting him to jail. His relief was so great he suddenly felt joyous despite the wound.”

“They had crossed a strange line; they had become wounded men; and everybody realized, including themselves, dimly, that they were now different. Of itself, the shocking physical experience of the explosion, which had damaged them and killed those others, had been almost identically the same for them as for those other ones who had gone on with it and died. The only difference was that now these, unexpectedly and illogically, found themselves alive again.”

“Grief is a form of validation; it says the wound mattered. It mattered. You mattered.”

“Wilson felt the pleasure of amusement. Whoever spoke was wrong, of course - as would be established soon enough when the engine was examined and they checked his wound more closely. Then they’d realize that he’d saved them all.”

“He’s my dear Nutcracker and you can’t have him. See the sad way he looking at me and showing me his sore little mouth. You’re a heartless brute- you beat your houses, and you’ve even had one of your soldiers shot.”

“It’ll be a fierce battle today, and we must be ready for the wounded, poor creatures.”

“Believing the lie that time will heal all wounds is just a nice way of saying that time deadens us.”

“What a terrible thing it is to wound someone you really care for and to do it so unconsciously.”

“The sores will heal. They healed before. It’s the wounds inside that will take the longest to heal.”

“In the inner stillness where meditation leads, the Spirit secretly anoints the soul and heals our deepest wounds.”

“Topthorn and I were hitched up side by side to an old hay cart and [...] driven up through the woods, back toward the thunder of the gunfire and the wounded that awaited us.”

“The wound seeped for a long time before it began to reknit itself. I sat watching it, and as I watched I found a new thought in myself. I am embarrassed to tell it, so rudimentary it seems, like an infant’s discovery that her hand is her own. But that is what I was then, an infant. The thought was this: that all my life had been murk and depths, but I was not a part of that dark water. I was a creature within it.”

“Now show the wound mine eye hath made in thee.”

“My wound is geography. It is also my anchorage, my port of call.”

“She was used to seeing the wounded men from the hospital with their bright blue uniforms and bright red ties, the colours, she thought, if not the clothes of Arthur’s soldiers. Such things did not disturb her, and the war seemed quite remote.”

He was like one of those gracious figures in a pageant or a play, whose joys seem to be remote from one, but whose sorrows stir one’s sense of beauty, and whose wounds are like red roses.