Caitlin Moran Quotes

Scars crossed her welded wrists.

Tell me that you don’t take that blade and drag it across your skin and pray for the courage to press down.

And I ask him why he cuts his arms with a razor. "Just fo feel. Just to feel something.

I never abused anybody but myself.

Delia's arms were inscribed with a grid of self- inflicted wounds, an intricate text of self-loathing

Blood transforms the warm bath water and, in it, I see weakly that this was a mistake. The razor's cut is not deep, nevertheless the blood rushes out happily in the warm water as if kin to it, the same tender substance. Rising a new person transformed with an icy sense of error I go to the sink and turn on cold water which is not friendly to blood. The cut is deeper than imagined.

So, what, you got cigarette burns, too?" Gitanes said. Chip showed his palm, "It's nothing." "Self-inflicted. You pathetic American." "Different kind of prison" Chip said.

Anyone who commits an act of violence to themselves or others is worth consideration in the sense that there must be something that brought them to that point, whether it's a mental health issue or otherwise.

My body is covered with bruises from pinching myself on a daily basis.

When I was younger, I did self-mutilate. I'd be upset, so I'd do it, & it would calm me down. It's a horrible way to feel better. But there are two parts of your brain - one that really wants to destroy the other. & sometimes the idea of self-destruction is very romantic. I got over that.

It seemed to me the way it must feel to people who cut themselves on purpose. Not pretty, but clean. Not good, but void of regret. I was trying to heal. Trying to get the bad out of my system so I could be good again. To cure me of myself.

I wouldn't say that cutting was pleasurable, but there is a sense of euphoria that follows cutting yourself. The quick pinch of pain and the sight of blood snaps you back to the surface and you start to appreciate being alive.

I am a cutter, you see. Also a snipper, a slicer, a carver, a jabber. I am a very special case. I have a purpose. My skin, you see, screams. It's covered with words - cook, cupcake, kitty, curls - as if a knife-wielding first-grader learned to write on my flesh. I sometimes, but only sometimes, laugh. Getting out of the bath and seeing, out of the corner of my eye, down the side of a leg: baby-doll. Pulling on a sweater, and in a flash of my wrist: harmful. Why these words?

It was that summer, too, that I began the cutting, and was almost as devoted to it as my newfound loveliness. I adored tending to myself, wiping a shallow red pool of my blood away with a damp washcloth to magically reveal, just above my naval: queasy. Applying alcohol with dabs of a cottonball, wispy shreds sticking to the bloody lines of: perky. I had a dirty streak my senior year, which I later rectified.

The violence done us by others is often less painful than that which we do to ourselves.

Some people go shopping - I cut myself.

I stopped. She was bleeding after all. Perfect lines crossed her wrists, not near any crucial veins, but enough to leave wet red tracks across her skin. She hadn;t hit her veins when she did this; death hadn't been her goal.

I wanted to be kicked and hit and bruised up and beaten. It became something that was an absolutely necessary part of every day for me.

A man who wants to mutilate himself is certainly damned, isn't he?

I can't stop thinking about cutting myself up. Visual bruises can be covered with make-up, but down to the core, I'm all bruises.

A man who would mutilate himself is well damned, isn't he?

I spent four days and four nights just covered in blood, falling in the water.

I have been touched by extreme violence, and I have been robbed of the life I always wanted by someone who chose to do evil.

It's true that Blake was emotionally disturbed - always has been - but he doesn't have murder in his heart. If he was going to do any damage to anything or anyone, it would be to himself.

When someone was hitting me, or like sexually molesting me, it just seemed normal to continue to do that to myself.