Quotes About Emotions

His heart was like a sensitive plant, that opens for a moment in the sunshine, but curls up and shrinks into itself at the slightest touch of the finger, or the lightest breath of wind.

He had not breathed a word of love, or dropped one hint of tenderness or affection, and yet I had been supremely happy. To be near him, to hear him talk as he did talk, and to feel that he thought me worthy to be so spoken to - capable of understanding and duly appreciating such discourse - was enough.

You may think it all very fine, Mr. Huntingdon, to amuse yourself with rousing my jealousy; but take care you don't rouse my hate instead. And when you have once extinguished my love, you will find it no easy matter to kindle it again.

He never could have loved me, or he would not have resigned me so willingly

Oh, I am very weary, Though tears no longer flow My eyes are tired of weeping, My heart is sick of woe.

A Chinese proverb reminds us: You cannot prevent birds of sorrow from flying over your head, but you can prevent them from building nests in your hair.

You remember too much, my mother said to me recently. Why hold onto all that? And I said, Where do I put it down?

When you are falling in love it is always already too late: d?ute, as the poets say.

It is generally anger dreams that occupy my nights now. This is not uncommon after loss of love— blue and black and red blasting the crater open. I am interested in anger.

Who knows what will happen if I'm alone with my grief.

You remember too much, my mother said to me recently. Why hold onto all that? And I said, Where can I put it down? She shifted to a question about airports.

These days Geryon was experiencing a pain not felt since childhood. His wings were struggling. They tore against each other on his shoulders like the little mindless red animals they were.

And for a moment the frailest leaves of life contained him in a widening happiness.

At what point does one say of a man that he has become unreal? He hugged his overcoat closer and tried to assemble in his mind Heidegger's argument about the use of moods. We would think ourselves continuous with the world if we did not have moods. It is state-of-mind that discloses to us (Heidegger claims) that we are beings who have been thrown into something else.

Jealousy is a dance in which everyone moves, for it is the instability of the emotional situation that preys upon a jealous lover's mind.

Geryon closed his eyes and listened to engines vibrating deep in the moon-splashed canals of his brain.

Oh sweetie, he says. He is using his inside voice, his most inside voice. The distance between that voice and the fight voice measures your whole world.

los celos pueden comerse un corazón hasta el centro

You remember too much, my mother said to me recently. Why hold onto all that? And I said, Where can I put it down?

Each night about this time he puts on sadness like a garment and goes on writing.

Under the seams runs the pain.

As Sokrates tells it, your story begins the moment Eros enters you. That incursion is the biggest risk of your life. How you handle it is an index of the quality, wisdom, and decorum of the things inside you. As you handle it you come into contact with what is inside you, in a sudden and startling way. You perceive what you are, what you lack, what you could be.

That was the cruelty of memory. The way it could ambush you.

Feelings aren't right or wrong. They just are.