Quotes About Emotions

O Emily! these are moments, in which joy and grief struggle so powerfully for pre-eminence, that the heart can scarcely support the contest!

It is wrong to give way to grief.

My dear sir,' said Emily, timidly, 'what mean those tears?'—they speak, I fear, another language—they plead for me.

The sympathy expressed in the tone of his voice and manner, proved that his happiness, on this occasion, almost equalled her own.

to the enjoyments of a writer of romance, conscious of inventive power. If in the mere perusal of novels we lose our painful sense of the realities of "this unimaginable world," and delightedly participate in the sorrows, the joys, and the struggles of the persons, how far more intensely must an authoress like Mrs. Radcliffe feel that outgoing of the heart, by which individuality is multiplied, and we seem to pass a hundred lives!

what yesterday affected us strongly, is to-day but imperfectly felt, and to-morrow perhaps shall be disregarded.

How short a period often reverses the character of our sentiments, rendering that which yesterday we despised, today desirable.

She wanted to complain, not to be consoled; and it was by exclamations of complaint only, Emily learned the particular circumstances of her affliction

But no matter for that, you can be tolerably happy, perhaps, notwithstanding; but as for guessing how happy I am, or knowing anything about the matter,--- O! its quite beyond what you can understand.

I didn't know how to say goodbye. Words were stupid. They said so little. Yet they opened up holes you could fall into and never climb out of again.

There are depths to the human soul that should not be fathomed.

Because I had already resolved that if you're afraid of love, your heart will break anyway, only in not half so nice a fashion as it does when you let somebody love you.

Doing good doesn't always make you feel good. I don't care what they tell you in church.

There are different kinds of love, Sarah. I feel one kind of love for your father. A special kind. Another kind for Warren. And still a different kind for you children.' She smiled at me. 'Heaven rue the day we can't feel love for one another. I wouldn't want to live in such a world, would you?

Words said can never be recalled. So it is best, oftimes, not to speak too quickly. Yet words left unsaid are worse. We wear them like weights around our hearts.

You see, Novelka, in an odd sort of way, some of our strongest relationships are with people who have died. We miss the person, we think of them, we wonder what they would want us to do, how they would want us to act. Though they are not here, they still strongly influence our lives. And so we go on loving them, sometimes even more, when they are gone.

Many things could upset Monet. If a meal was bad or a tree branch fell in the garden, it could send him into a rage.

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That was a time when only the deadcould smile.

Now that you're there, where everything is known—tell me: What else lived in that house besides us?

Forgive me that I felt forsaken, That grief and angst was all I knew. Forgive me that I kept mistaking Too many other men for you.

I don't long for anyone, But I don't want, don't want, don't want To know how they kiss each other.

Will you forgive me these November days?

He loved three things alone: White peacocks, evensong, old maps of America. He hated children crying, and raspberry jam with his tea, and womanish hysteria. ...And then he married me. 1911