Lies wound; truths festoon.
The hurt refuse to chart their part.
Friends aren’t inert to hurt.
The wise surmise hidden cries.
Silence is a form of violence.
Love wanes shame.
The lame blame, the hurt blurt, the mad rag.
Those who don’t fulfill their potential rise up against those who do.
Hurt remains, deposited in memory.
The utterly crushed are like animals caught in a trap; they bite even those who try to help them escape.
The hurt run from disaster; love runs after them faster.
Deny the people pleaser his fix; he’ll get in his licks.
The whacked will hack, then pack.
The more powerful the office, the less sane need be the officer.
Treat Sir Whacked as Sir Jacked.
Jealousy is an AK47; insanity is firing it at a person looking the other way.
A plant with brown leaves and a leader who will not solve problems — the end of a cycle.
Whacked behaviors come in all flavors.
The toxicity of resentment stunts the efficacy of rapprochement.
As the saprotrophs devour dead flesh, so the hurt gnaw on oozing sores.
The best liars can’t tell if they themselves are lying.
Please the whacked, or you’ll be sacked.
The hostile smile, then beguile.
Modern Thought Proverbs, Aphorisms and Epigrams 