Emotional Fragility Quotes

When I played 'Survivor', I sat back many times and marveled that no one had gotten into a real physical altercation. With all the backbiting, lies, and lack of food, a fight didn't sound far off base, considering the strained and fragile emotions.

Karen wasn't hard, she was soft, too soft. A soft touch. Her hair was soft, her smile was soft, her voice was soft. She was so soft there was no resistance. Hard things sank into her, they went right through her, and if she made a real effort, out the other side. Then she didn't have to see them or hear them, or even touch them.

I love him whose soul is deep even in the wounding, and may succumb through a small matter: thus goeth he willingly over the bridge.

Would I still feel this way on leaving the party tonight? Or would I find cunning ways to latch on to minor defects so they'd start to bother me and allow me to snuff the dream till it tapered off and lost its luster and, with its luster gone, remind me once again, as ever again, that happiness is the one thing that in our lives others cannot bring.

No matter how smart she appeared, she was fragile at her core.

Each of us has a "soft spot": the place in our experience where we feel vulnerable and tender. This soft spot is inherent in appreciation and love, and it is equally inherent in pain.

Love is a very hard feeling to keep alive. It's a very fragile plant.

I'm in a glass case of emotion

It's one of them things that no matter how indestructible we look like we are, we're all human at the end of the day. We all got feelings... all of that.

As you get older, the heart shed its leaves like a tree. You cannot hold out against certain winds. Each day tears away a few more leaves; and then there are the storms that break off several branches at one go. And while nature’s greenery grows back again in the spring, that of the heart never grows back.

don't take many words to break a fragile heart!

I'm easily frightened, and I've also come to realize that old Catholic guilt or remorse is easily stimulated.

You play games with people's lives.(...) You forget that they are fragile.

I find at moments I'm as fragile as glass.

Americans are so emotionally fragile that soon we will have to be carried around in plastic bubbles and fed with an eye-dropper.

On one level, I am a total softie, sort of depressed and afraid of losing the people I love or failing them. To disguise that, there's all this harsh, poop-centric, external swagger, full of nastiness. I'm a cloaking device.

Thus strangely are our souls constructed, and by slight ligaments are we bound to prosperity and ruin.

I love playing confused, broken characters.

A little criticism makes me angry, and a little rejection makes me depressed. A little praise raises my spirits, and a little success excites me. It takes very little to raise me up or thrust me down. Often I am like a small boat on the ocean, completely at the mercy of its waves. All the time and energy I spend in keeping some kind of balance and preventing myself from being tipped over and drowning shows my life is mostly a struggle for survival: not a holy struggle, but an anxious struggle resulting from the mistaken idea that it is the world that defines me.

Being overly sensitive to rejection can become a destructive virus.

A family is too frail a vessel to contain the risks of all the warring impulses expressed when such a group meets on common ground.

We're all quite vulnerable human beings really.

His heart was like a sensitive plant, that opens for a moment in the sunshine, but curls up and shrinks into itself at the slightest touch of the finger, or the lightest breath of wind.

I had the brief notion that his heart, pressed flat as a flower, crimson and thin as tissue paper, lay in this file. It was a very thin one.

I know you're supposed to be thick-skinned in this business, but I'm not. I kind of like to hang on to being vulnerable.