There is something beautiful about all scars of whatever nature.

Harry Crews, the fierce Southern novelist forged in hardship, once declared: “There is something beautiful about all scars of whatever nature. A scar means the hurt is over, the wound is closed and healed, done with.” In these words he speaks not as one who lived a life of ease, but as one who bore both visible and invisible wounds, who understood that pain is not the final word. For in every scar there is a story, and in every story there is triumph—the proof that suffering was endured, that healing has taken place, and that life continues forward.

The meaning of this quote lies in its paradox: scars, often seen as disfigurements, are here revealed as marks of beauty. Why? Because they signify survival. A wound is raw, open, and agonizing; but a scar is the silent witness that the wound has closed. It no longer bleeds. It no longer festers. It stands as testimony that what once threatened to destroy us has been overcome. Thus, scars are not symbols of weakness, but monuments of endurance, and in them there is a strange and sacred beauty.

The origin of Crews’ insight flows from his own turbulent life. Born in poverty, stricken by polio as a child, scarred physically and emotionally by countless battles, he came to see pain not as something to be hidden, but as something to be integrated into identity. His works often glorified the broken, the battered, and the wounded—those society overlooked. By calling scars beautiful, Crews gives dignity to suffering, and reminds us that no one emerges from life unmarked. Our scars—be they of the flesh, the heart, or the mind—are not shameful, but sacred proofs of resilience.

History itself echoes this wisdom. Consider the great warrior Samurai, who often bore scars upon their bodies as honorable emblems of courage in battle. Or recall President Abraham Lincoln, scarred not physically alone but by the immense grief of civil war and personal loss, who nevertheless emerged as one of the greatest figures of his age. Even Jesus of Nazareth, after his crucifixion, rose still bearing scars in his hands and side—marks not of defeat, but of victory over death itself. Each example reveals the truth Crews proclaimed: scars carry within them the story of suffering transformed into survival.

Yet his words also hold an invitation to acceptance. Too often, we hide our scars, ashamed of what they reveal. We cover them with cloth or silence, as though to erase them from the memory of others. But scars are not stains—they are seals. They tell us and those who behold us: “The pain is finished. I endured. I remain.” There is power in standing unashamed, showing one’s scars not as weakness, but as proof of healing. To embrace them is to embrace one’s story in its wholeness.

The lesson for us is profound: do not despise your scars, whether they are carved upon your skin, your heart, or your soul. Instead, honor them as signs that you have lived, struggled, and endured. Let them remind you not of the pain itself, but of the victory of moving beyond it. And when you see the scars of others, look upon them with reverence, for they too are marks of battles fought and survived.

Practically, this means changing the way we view both ourselves and others. When you are tempted to hide your scars, remember they are part of your truth. When you encounter someone scarred—by life, by grief, by hardship—see not ugliness, but beauty, for they are standing before you as living testaments of endurance. Let your scars become a source of compassion, for in recognizing your own healing, you can help others move toward theirs.

So let Harry Crews’ words be carried forward: all scars of whatever nature are beautiful, for they declare that the wound has ended, that healing has taken place, and that the bearer has endured. In every scar there is a hymn of survival, a monument to resilience, and a reminder that even in pain, there is the possibility of renewal. And thus, scars are not the end of the story, but the proof that life continues, stronger and wiser than before.