Quotes About Emotions

the world was a vale of tears—it always had been.

Let's not have a sniffle, let's have a jolly good cry And always remember, the longer you live, the sooner you jolly well die.

There were times when one thought the opposite of what one really felt. That was very common, and this was an example of exactly that.

i cuori degli uomini che sono molto lontani dal loro Paese sono pieni di tristezze.

She was crying because she was far from home, and who among us has never wanted to do that? There need be no other reason; just that. We cry for home, and for flowers on tables, and biscuits in little tins, and for mother; and we feel embarrassed, and foolish too, that we should be crying for such things; but we should not feel that way because all of us, in a sense, have strayed from home, and wish to return.

Memories of that which we have lost are curious things - weeks, months, even years may pass without recollection of them and then, quite suddenly, something will remind us of a lost friend, or of a favourite possession that has been mislaid or destroyed, and then we think: Yes, that is what I have had and I have no longer

There, I've thought it. I've thought the thing I knew I should think. And I feel better for it, because although it's harder to love, it's always better.

The human heart, you see, Mma Ramotswe, is pretty much the same wherever one goes.

Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni waited. If a woman was unhappy, in his experience this could mean that there was a badly behaved man in the background.

Hampus looked up again. Ulf saw that tears had appeared in his eyes. He wanted to reach forward and wipe them away, but that was not for a detective to do.

The world was a lonely place, a place of transience, of change, of loss; only the bonds, the ties of friendship and family protect us from the loneliness

Women always had private business to raise with men [...] There was always something going on in the background—some plotting or mulling over some slight or lack of attention, quite unintended, of course, but noted and filed away for subsequent scrutiny. And much of the time men would be unaware of it, until it all came out in a torrent of recrimination and tears.

There was no point in telling somebody not to cry, she had always thought; indeed there were times when you should do exactly the opposite, when you should urge people to cry, to start the healing that sometimes only tears can bring. But if there was a place for tears of relief, there might even be a place for tears of pride[.]

Everybody kissed one another these days; kisses meant nothing.

Yes, she agreed, there are times when I am unhappy and times when I am happy. There are more happy times than unhappy ones, I think.

sometimes the people who were closest to you were also those who were furthest away.

There's a poem about onions," she said. "It's about how memory is like an onion—it makes you cry.

She had forgiven him, yes, but she still did not like to remember. And perhaps a deliberate act of forgetting went along with forgiveness. You forgave and then you said to yourself: Now I shall forget. Because if you did not forget, then your forgiveness would be tested, perhaps many times and in ways that you could not resist, and you might go back to anger and to hating.

But emotions and detective work did not always mix; there was something about that in Clovis Andersen's The Principles of Private Detection. What had he said? Emotions have the same effect as a magnet has on a compass…Yes, that was it. The needle swings around in a confusing way and you lose direction.

Betjeman, called him sentimental, but he could hit the nail on the head when it came to describing people's feelings; and he had written there about a man coming out of a doctor's surgery, his X-ray photos tucked under his

And perhaps a deliberate act of forgetting went along with forgiveness. You forgave, and then you said to yourself: Now I shall forget. Because if you did not forget, then your forgiveness would be tested, perhaps many times and in ways that you could not resist, and you might go back to anger, and to hating.

People tried to understand, and many did, but not everybody could make the imaginative leap that landed one in the position of another person, in their shoes, in their very garments, looking out on the world with their eyes, feeling what went on inside their hearts; being made to cry by the things that made them want to cry. That was easy in theory, but hard in practice. They pretended to understand, but when it came down to it, many simply did not.

love was a form of blindness that closed the eyes to the most glaring faults.

Perhaps the cloud had blown over and covered his sky.