#wounded

The passions grafted on wounded pride are the most inveterate; they are green and vigorous in old age. ↗

— George Santayana

#grafted #green #inveterate #most #old

Show me your hands. Do they have scars from giving? Show me your feet. Are they wounded in service? Show me your heart. Have you left a place for divine love? ↗

— Fulton J. Sheen

#divine #divine love #feet #giving #hands

I am tired and sick of war. Its glory is all moonshine. It is only those who have neither fired a shot nor heard the shrieks and groans of the wounded who cry aloud for blood, for vengeance, for desolation. War is hell. ↗

— William Tecumseh Sherman

#am #blood #cry #desolation #fired

It is only those who have neither fired a shot nor heard the shrieks and groans of the wounded who cry aloud for blood, more vengeance, more desolation. War is hell. ↗

— William Tecumseh Sherman

#blood #cry #desolation #fired #groans

The roots of racism lie deep in man's nature, wounded and bruised by original sin. ↗

— Sargent Shriver

#deep #lie #man #nature #original

So I had to be the doctor to these wounded men until we could remove them to the hospital. There were fifty-four women and forty little boys with the Red Army prisoners, and I went daily to take care of them also. ↗

— Agnes Smedley

#army #care #could #daily #doctor

A critic is someone who never actually goes to the battle, yet who afterwards comes out shooting the wounded. ↗

— Tyne Daly

#afterwards #battle #comes #critic #goes

Take, for example, the African jungle, the home of the cheetah. On whom does the cheetah prey? The old, the sick, the wounded, the weak, the very young, but never the strong. Lesson: If you would not be prey, you had better be strong. ↗

— G. Gordon Liddy

#be strong #better #does #example #for example

A few days later, Tuesday quietly crossed our apartment as I read a book and, after a nudge against my arm, put his head on my lap. As always, I immediately checked my mental state, trying to assess what was wrong. I knew a change in my biorhythms had brought Tuesday over, because he was always monitoring me, but I couldn't figure out what it was. Breathing? Okay. Pulse? Normal. Was I glazed or distracted? Was I lost in Iraq? Was a dark period descending? I didn't think so, but I knew something must be wrong, and I was starting to worry...until I looked into Tuesday's eyes. They were staring at me softly from under those big eyebrows, and there was nothing in them but love. ↗

— Luis Carlos Montalván

#dog #dog-lover #dogs-loyalty #iraq #iraq-war

Without your wound where would your power be? It is your very remorse that makes your low voice tremble into the hearts of men. The very angels themselves cannot persuade the wretched and blundering children on earth as can one human being broken on the wheels of living. In love’s service only the wounded soldiers can serve. ↗

— Thorton Wilder

#love #suffering #woundedhealer #love