Quotes About Healing

How could I give so much of myself to someone and then let that person go?

Gideon e io avevamo segreti che per ora potevamo condividere solo l'uno con l'altra e che ci tenevano isolati e reciprocamente dipendenti. Chi aveva abusato di noi non ci aveva portato via solo l'innocenza, ci aveva portato via anche la libertà.

he knew damn well that no one could possibly love her as completely as he once had. Even the man he was today was incapable of that depth of emotion and connection. She'd killed the innocence in him that had made it possible to love a woman without any thought of self-preservation. He'd been wide open when she cut his heart out and scars had formed, creating a thick shield that he couldn't get past and no woman could get through.

You're looking at it the wrong way." His grip tightens. "You're broken. I'm broken. We don't throw the pieces away. We fit them together until they make something new

No matter how we move forward, there's always going to be that crack there that didn't exist before. That's what hurts.

I must get my soul back from you; I am killing my flesh without it.

There must be quite a few things that a hot bath won't cure, but I don't know many of them.

I am sure there are things that can't be cured by a good bath but I can't think of one.

I knew you'd decide to be all right again.

I used to pray to recover you. --from Daddy, written 12 October 1962

I am still raw. I say I may be back. You know what lies are for. Even in your Zen heaven we shan't meet. --from Lesbos, written 18 October 1962

God, it was good to let go, let the tight mask fall off, and the bewildered, chaotic fragments pour out. It was the purge, the catharsis.

But writing poems and letters doesn't seem to do much good.

Why is crying so pleasurable? I feel clean, absolutely purged after it. As if I had a grief to get over with, some deep sorrow.

Yet I liked him too much… way too much, and I ripped him out of my heart so it wouldn't get to hurt me more than it did.

daddy daddy you bastard, i'm through

We'll take up where we left off, Esther', she had said, with her sweet martyr's smile. 'We'll act as if all this were a bad dream.' A bad dream. To the person in the bell jar, blank and stopped as a dead baby, the world itself is a bad dream. A bad dream. I remembered everything.

There must be quite a few things a hot bath won't cure, but I don't know many of them. Whenever I'm sad I'm going to die or so nervous I can't sleep, or in love with somebody I won't be seeing for a week, I slump down just so far and then I say: I'll go take a hot bath.

There ought, I thought, to be a ritual for being born twice—patched, retreaded and approved for the road, I was trying to think of an appropriate one when Doctor Nolan appeared from nowhere and touched me on the shoulder. "All right, Esther.

What ceremony of words can patch the havoc?

I knew you'd decide to be all right again." STARLET

Doctor Nolan had said, quite bluntly, that a lot of people would treat me gingerly, or even avoid me, like a leper with a warning bell. My mother's face floated to mind, a pale, reproachful moon, at her last and first visit to the asylum since my twentieth birthday. A daughter in an asylum! I had done that to her. Still, she had obviously decided to forgive me.

For the eyeing of my scars, there is a charge

There must be quite a few things a hot bath won't cure, but I don't know many of them.