It’s wrong to hurt even bad people. Because they don’t know any better, and because bad people sometimes become good.
They hurt each other without wanting to, just because each represented to the others the cruel and demanding necessity of their lives.
That old saying, about how you always kill the thing you love, well, it works both ways. And it does work both ways.
People hurt each other. That’s how it works. At least you were trying to do something good. Not everyone can say that much.
It’s never an insult to be called what somebody thinks is a bad name. It just shows you how poor that person is, it doesn’t hurt you.
If she had hurt me, I could have forgiven her without even having to think about it; but I couldn’t forgive her for being hurt.
I have come to realize that destiny can hurt a person as much as it can bless him, and I find myself wondering why—out of all the people in all the world I could ever have loved—I had to fall in love with someone who was taken away from me.