But a wound unfelt is a wound unhealed.
I can't let them see my doubts, or the wounds they've inflicted on me.
As victims of hurt, we frequently don't bring up what ails us, because so many wounds look absurd in the light of day.
Fools through false shame, conceal their open wounds.
The wound that bleedeth inward is most dangerous.
The artful injury, whose venomed dart scarce wounds the hearing, while it stabs the heart.
Hemingway's minimalism is based on the psychological mechanics of repression. An echo of his approach can be detected in a favorite trope of 1980s minimalists: a pattern of reference to dire secrets and hidden wounds these authors didn't realize they were supposed to have imagined.
The parasites live where the great have little secret sores.
