Quotes About Emotions

The woman I love burns with jealousy, leaps to conclusions, cries, and turns to ice... but when she laughs... the world is mine.

It's alright now...I was able to see you...One last time...- Kagura

No puedo soportar que tu, de entre todo el mundo, me vea tan débil y patético.

We all lose our innocence soon enough; it's inescapable. Most of us aren't emotionally or intellectually ready for it until our thirties or even later, however, so when one loses it prematurely, in childhood and adolescence, through divorce or the sudden early death of a parent, it can leave one fixated on that loss for a lifetime. Because it's premature, it feels unnatural, violent and unnecessary, a permanent, gratuitous wounding, and it leaves one angry at the world

Captain Jack: Rose, you are worth fighting for. [Jack kisses Rose passionately] Captain Jack: Wish I'd never met you, Doctor, I was much better off as a coward. [Jack kisses the Doctor the same way]

If we are interested in cultural processes, the only way in which we can know the significance of the selected detail of behaviour is against the background of the motives and emotions and values that are institutionalized in that culture.

The typical Japanese swing of mood is from intense dedication to intense boredom

The passionate love of a mature woman.

You know a man," Papa had always said, "by his anger.

Why should one expect that a woman great in intellect should not love greatly, too?

He would sit singing, his cheeks turning red above his whiskers; but his voice always came out deep and steady, like the sound of long ago, if long ago could make a sound instead of being forever lost and silent.

At one point in my life, I learned how to think. I used to know how to feel. In war, these are lessons best forgotten.

He hated the idea of killing people he could not hate.

I was thinking about what she aid about waves, and it made me sad because I knew that her little wave was not going to last and soon she would join the sea again, and even though I know you can't hold on to water, I still gripped her fingers a little more tightly to keep her from leaking away

I'm sorry. I was just talking to the moon.

You know how good-byes feel. How the air gets excited when all its ions and electrical charges are disrupted, first by the intent to leave and later by the leaving itself. Then, when the bodies move away through space, they create empty pockets where feelings get caught and eddy around in the vacuum, creating little vortices of relief or sadness or confusion.

She chuckled to herself and wiped her eyes with her crooked old finger. Sometimes when she told stories about the past her eyes would get teary from all the memories she had, but they weren't tears. She wasn't crying. They were just the memories, leaking out.

But what a sweet story it is! And in the end, to us, that's what really matters. That's what books are for, after all, to tell your stories, to hold them and keep them safe between our covers for as long as we're able. We do our best to bring you pleasure and sustain your belief in the gravity of being human. We care about your feelings and believe in you completely.

As she left the house and walked to the bus stop, it occurred to her that, really, a mother never stops carrying her child, and this thought brought tears to her eyes.

Sometimes you don't need words to say what's in your heart.

So of course I feel angry, I said, angrily. What do you expect? It was a stupid thing to ask. Yes, she agreed. It was a stupid thing to ask. I see that you're angry. I don't need to ask such a stupid thing to understand that. So why did you ask? Slowly she turned herself around, pivoting on her knees, until finally she was facing me. I asked for you, she said. For me? So you could hear the answer.

At the time I was feeling hopeful, which now seems kind of sad and brave. It wasn't my fault that I didn't understand what was happening.

My throat clogged up like an old drain with these happy memories.

For the second time since she left Japan, she shivered with excitement. She'd felt it at the dinner table at Thanksgiving, and now, again, even stronger—as if somehow she'd been absorbed into a massive body that had taken over the functions of her own, and now it was infusing her small heart with the superabundance of its feeling, teaching her taut belly to swell, stretching her rib cage, and pumping spurts of happy life into her fetus.