Discover the most popular and inspiring quotes and sayings on the topic of Wrenched. Share them with your friends on social media platforms like Facebook, Twitter, or your personal blogs, and let the world be inspired by their powerful messages. Here are the Top 100 Wrenched Quotes And Sayings by 97 Authors including Isaac Bashevis Singer,Rupi Kaur,Andrew Cormier,John Greenleaf Whittier,Louie Giglio for you to enjoy and share.
Here are circumstances when you are torn away like a leaf from a tree and no power can attach you again.
The wind carries you from your roots. There's a name for it in Hebrew, but I've forgotten."
"Na-v'nad - a fugitive and a wanderer."
"That's it.
i didn't know why
i split myself open
for other knowing
sewing myself up
hurts this much
afterward
His leg split like a piece of lumber being hit with an awl.
Like warp and woof all destinies
Are woven fast,
Linked in sympathy like the keys
Of an organ vast.
Pluck one thread, and the web ye mar;
Break but one
Of a thousand keys, and the paining jar
Through all will run.
Brokenness is the bow from which God launches the arrow of healing.
The riot screws did not stop there, they dragged him down the corridor where ten other nameless screws repeatedly coshed him over the head and face and body. Dingus by now was totally out cold, he had received the equivalent injuries of someone who was involved in a car crash.
This was my love, her love
torn, damaged, broken, ripped apart and put back together. This was our tattered love.
Pains demand to be felt.
Time with his old flail Beat me full sore; Till: Hold, I cried, I'll stand no more. Then I heard a wail And looking spied How love's little bow Had laid time low.
You were broken years ago and you healed hunched. And now you're broken again and trying to heal even more hunched.
Those who hurt are hurting.
Here I stand, hobbled in a sack of doom, determined to tear out of it, knowing that I will.
I'd been broken beyond repair.
Something is not right,' Weavyr announced. She crouched lower over one spot in the Wyrd and tugged, redirecting the threads. In the moments that followed, throughout the world, hearts were broken, brilliant careers were launched and dreams were dashed. A volleyball serve also went awry.
The bastard even limped fast.
Reed Royal has broken me. I've fallen from the sky and I'm not sure I can get up. Not this time.
Baseball has undergone and absorbed a whole set of dislocations.
Some tragedies bind us, as lies do; they are ropes braided of hurt and bitterness, and you cannot ever fully understand how pinioned you are until the ties are loosened.
him lazy and stupid, they lashed his knuckles
I felt like I did the first time I had been thrown from a horse, with the reins yanked from my hands and the ground rushing up at me. Then, as now, there was nothing I could do to prevent the pain that was coming.
The exhibition of real strength is never grotesque. Distortion is the agony of weakness. It is the dislocated mind whose movements are spasmodic.
Grips slipped. Hers had from every surface. She's shaped nothing after all, only been crushed and reshaped. No wonder she felt for the brownstones, the cripples, now filling chaotically with no regard for her plan.
I am strong and on the road to recovery away from the place that caused so much pain. I am free. I am a bird whose broken wing is now mended and I am able to escape the steel cage I was once trapped in.
No sword
Of wrath her right arm whirl'd,
But one poor poet's scroll, and with his word
She shook the world.
The heel of my white kidskin boot ripped a six-inch gash in the hem of my skirt as I whipped around the corner.
Yield and you need not break. Bent, you can straighten. Emptied, you can hold. Torn, you can mend.
Tune into my new lifetime movie. 'Dislocated shoulder' airing right now,
Over my head his arm he flung, Against the world.
Tsarong felt every day of his life creak in his joints as he made his way to the door. He had grown accustomed to the pain, the muted, arthritic drum roll that reminded him he was still bound to this realm - still able to make a difference before the oncoming storm.
locked his fingers on the arm of his
My traditional moment of triumph at escaping yet again was curtailed by a muscular arm that reached from the darkness and yanked me to one side.
It had been a conscious decision to pull free. It had taken everything I had to do it, like an animal gnawing a limb off to escape a trap. And somehow I had done it;
Limbs of a dismembered poet.
Soundlessly, and without fuss, some tender thing deep inside me broke. Something that, until then, I hadn't even realized was there.
Blind loving wrestling touch, sheath'd hooded sharp-tooth'd touch!
Did it make you ache so, leaving me?
Down the endless halls of quilt
My silver thread of tears is split.
My fingerbone the key that broke
My blood the oil that smooth the lock.
Her stomach was in ropes, her heart in tatters.
I'd had my heart broken, you see. Fell in love with the wrong chap and he crushed me right down to the bedrock. Nothing left but humiliation.
I'm mangled," I said. "On the inside and the outside.
Open up!" he roared, pounding it with his fist. Nothing. "Lass, if you open up now, I'll leave you in one piece, but I swear to you, if you keep me in here one more moment I will tear you limb from wee limb," he threatened. Silence. "Lass! Wench! Gwen-do-lynnnnnn!
He was clutching at his indelicate bits and writhing about.
The good poet welds his theft into a whole of feeling which is unique, utterly different than that from which it is torn.
Me howling blasts drive devious, tempest-tossed, / Sails ripped, seams opening wide, and compass lost.
-During Thanatos's class-
Damien tapped quickly on his iPad and lifted it so we could all see: Torn Asunder=Torn To Pieces
Pain was a torn piece of paper.
What am I doing? Tearing myself. My usual occupation at most times.
As if grabbed by strong arms that were not there, he felt himself being lifted. Raising skyward and spinning, he fought to regain orientation. The winds were holding him and carrying him higher. Spinning him sickeningly, senses askew, his focus was being lost.
a trauma that breaks you into brand new pieces.
Pain demands to be felt.
Look at me, he said to her. His arms and legs jerked. Look at me. You got your wish. I have learned how to love. And it's a terrible thing. I'm broken. My heart is broken. Help me. The old woman turned and hobbled away. Come back, thought Edward. Fix me
I woke with a terrible headache and wobbled around 'till I fell out the window."
"You what?"
"Fell out the window. That one over there." She [Edwina] gestured to the curtain behind her. "I broke my back. My spine is all wobbly now, but it doesn't hurt.
The heart in his rugged chest was pounding, torn
She was held together by a thread. Not even a strong fishing wire, but the kind of thread that could fray and break in the wind. A thread that could unravel at any moment, scattering and smashing all the pieces of her that she as trying desperately to keep together.
How love the limb-loosener sweeps me away
And the girl pulled whatever she could find deep inside her soul, from all the pain, and the hurt, and the fear.
Something had snapped between us, and I had no idea how to glue it back together.
It was not a mere man he was holding, but a giant; or a block of granite. The pull was unendurable. The pain unendurable.
Let's see that wrist."
I held it out, and Chase's jaw tightened.
"Look at that!" the medic shouted, staring over my shoulder behind us. The moment I turned my head he grabbed my hand and jerked it toward him, hard.
A crack as the bones in my wrist realigned.
Thurst [thrust] out nature with a croche [crook], yet woll she styll runne back agayne.
They felt, in fact, tremendously bucked-up, which was how Lady Ramkin would almost certainly have put it and which was definitely several letters of the alphabet away from how they normally felt.
I was bent but never broken.
i don't know why
i split myself open
for others knowing
sewing myself up
hurts this much
afterwards
As we approached the forbidding and squalid inn, with the sign of a game-cock above the door, Holmes gave a sudden groan, and clutched me by the shoulder to save himself from falling. He had had one of those violent strains of the ankle which leave a man helpless.
Your heart broke again and again, and you tried to fix the pieces with the salves of the world. But they can only dull the pain; they cannot heal. You have been chained. You've hidden your heart in the dark places. But I came to heal the brokenhearted and set the captives free.
It was hard to let go of love. Once woven, its ribbon was hard to tear, and this one she'd woven quite firmly herself.
Under the seams runs the pain.
I was wounded by a blow of love.
Inside, a piece of him cracked; it was as though an emotion that had calcified into bone got tapped with a tiny hammer and splintered straight through.
I had been pushed as far as I could stand
One moment unstuck other stuck!
Ah, damn it, lass,'he called after her. 'I've busted my stitches wide open.'
'What?'she cried, hurrying back to him. 'Let me see!'
'Ah-ha!' He snared her around the waist, dragging her down with him to his lap.'You still care for me!
right knee knuckling inward as his backswing began, trunk twisting to its limit as his left shoulder turned under his chin. 'Every muscle
Love like an anvil had cracked my locked heart open and unleashed an excruciating flow of tenderness
In a train ... smash. In his arm her last ... breath.' He had loved her. But he hated himself more. Such suffering, so much pain. And he thought it made him hateful. As if suffering was shameful, disgusting, as if pain were a crime. Who can judge another man's suffering?
We are not responsible for what breaks us, but we can be responsible for what puts us back together again. Naming the hurt is how we begin to repair our broken parts.
Stretched to the breaking point by all that now stood between them, but at the same time refusing to break.
I may tear you apart but I'll put you back together.
It is to be broken. It is to be
torn open. It is not to be
reached and come to rest in
ever. I turn against you,
I break from you, I turn to you.
We hurt, and are hurt,
and have each other for healing.
It is healing. It is never whole.
Tongue-tied and twisted, just an earth-bound misfit, I.
Pain seared through Josh's confidence.
I felt a crack in my defenses - a weak place where truth knifed and twisted and pried for an opening
What did my arms do before they held you?
She is a woman of muscle twisted around bone.
The heart was made to be broken.
A crude puppet impaled by her puppet master.
It was cruel. Like opening a birdcage to let the bird fly out, whilst all the while it's tethered by the leg, and freedom is only an illusion.
The world snapped open.
The world snapped shut.
How swift, the slippage from keeping it together to losing it.
If a violin string could ache, i would be that string.
Annabeth sat up and glared at her ankle.
"You HAD to break," she scolded it.
The ankle did not reply.
How deeply bound by cords of family anger we all are[ ... ]None of us breaks free.
An elaborately jointed array of bones landed in my lap, spasming like a broken crab. My cry was every bit as manly as that of a young schoolgirl surprised by a hairy spider. I knocked the thing off me, onto the floor. It
His injury the gaoler to his pity.
His face was like a whipped back, criss-crossed with ragged scars. His
Dear God,
I hurt. Please hold me.
Amen
I hauled myself over as if I were mounting a horse. Which I'd never actually done before.
Needless to say, it was hardly a graceful affair.
When something or someone you dearly love is snatched away from you, something of you go with it. You become emotionally amputated
Oh, I'm bowed, but unbroken.
But when the web is pulled askew, hooked up at the edge, torn in the middle, one remembers that these webs are not spun in mid-air by incorporeal creatures, but are the work of suffering human beings, and are attached to grossly material things, like health and money and the houses we live in.
Like the muscles knew from the beginning that it would end with this, this inevitable falling apart ... It's sad, but a relief as well to know that two things so closely bound together can separate with so little violence, leaving smooth surfaces instead of bloody shreds.