Quotes About Emotions

He was drafted early in the fall, and the examining doctor made no mention of low blood-pressure. It was all very purposeless and sad when Anthony told Gloria one night that he wanted, above all things, to be killed. But, as always, they were sorry for each other for the wrong things at the wrong times…. They

Gloria had been sorry for him but she had judged it best not to show it. In a final burst of kindness she had tried to make him hate her, there at the last.

And you say you're a weak character, that you've no will. Not a bit of will—I'm a slave to my emotions, to my likes, to my hatred of boredom, to most of my desires— You are not! She brought one little fist down onto the other. You're a slave, a bound helpless slave to one thing in the world, your imagination.

But I believe you are absolutely incapable of jealousy except as hurt vanity.

Back at two o'clock in the Roi George corridor the beauty of Nicole had been the beauty of Rosemary as the beauty of Leonardo's girl was to that of the girl of an illustrator. Dick moved on through the rain, demoniac and frightened, the passions of many men inside him and nothing simple that he could see.

They awoke, nauseated and tired, dispirited with life, capable only of one pervasive emotion – fear.

She shut her eyes and he could see that the lids were trembling. Dear little Dot, life is so damned hard. She was crying upon his shoulder. So damned hard, so damned hard, he repeated aimlessly; it just hurts people and hurts people, until finally it hurts them so that they can't be hurt ever any more. That's the last and worst thing it does. Frantic

They made no love that day, but when he left her outside the sad door on the Zurichsee and she turned and looked at him he knew her problem was one they had together for good now.

When a girl tells the man she likes second best about the other one, then she's in love. --Cecelia Brady

Like most women she liked to be told how she should feel

What do you remember—their kisses? All sorts of things…. Men are different with women. Different in what way? Oh, entirely—and quite inexpressibly. Men who had the most firmly rooted reputation for being this way or that would sometimes be surprisingly inconsistent with me. Brutal men were tender, negligible men were astonishingly loyal and lovable, and, often, honorable men took attitudes that were anything but honorable. For

He saw Nicole in the garden. Presently he must encounter her and the prospect gave him a leaden feeling. Before her he must keep up a perfect front, now and tomorrow, next week and next year. All night in Paris he had held her in his arms while she slept light under the luminal; in the early morning he broke in upon her confusion before it could form, with words of tenderness and protection, and she slept again with his face against the warm scent of her hair.

Sometimes, when he was particularly loquacious, she went to sleep in his arms, but he loved that Rosalind—all Rosalinds—as he had never in the world loved any one else. Intangibly fleeting, unrememberable hours.

He felt so intensely about people that in moments of apathy he preferred to remain concealed; that one could parade a casualness into his presence was a challenge to the key on which he lived

No amount of fre or freshness can challenge what a man will store up in his ghostly heart.

Pas une seconde il n'avait cessé de regarder Daisy et je pense que les objets qu'il possédait changeait de valeur à ses yeux à mesure qu'ils en prenaient une aux yeux de celle qu'il aimait. Il les contemplait parfois avec stupéfaction, comme si l'incroyable et indiscutable présence de Daisy les rendait brusquement irréels.

Dick's discovery that he was not in love with her, nor she with him, had added to rather than diminished his passion for her. Now that he knew he would not enter further into her life, she became the strange woman for him. He supposed many men meant no more than that when they said they were in love - not a wild submergence of soul, a dipping of all colors into an obscuring dye, such as his love for Nicole had been.

They weren't happy, and neither of them had touched the chicken or the ale - and yet they weren't unhappy either.

Then it was all true. I saw the skins of tigers flaming in his palace on the Grand Canal; I saw him opening a chest of rubies to ease, with their crimson-lighted depths, the gnawings of his broken heart.

Her affairs had long shared such a sameness, that, as she dried out, they were more important for their conversational value than for themselves. Her emotions had their truest existence in the telling of them.

I don't ask you to love me always like this, but I ask you to remember. Somewhere inside of me there will always be the person I am tonight.

Pero hubo un cambio en Gatsby que era simplemente incomprensible. Literalmente resplandecía; sin necesidad de palabra o gesto alguno de emoción, un nuevo bienestar irradiaba de él y llenaba la pequeña habitación.

It's rotten that every bit of real love in the world is ninety-nine percent passion and one little soupcon of jealousy

Amory felt an immense desire to give people a sense of security.