Quotes About Emotions

our heartache poured into one another like water from cup to cup.

Oh sweetheart, do you really think if you seal it up, that the pain's gonna go away?

She listened for the pain in my words, not to the narrative itself. She was intuiting what it meant to me, what was most important, what, in that confused mass of experience and yearning she heard in my voice, she could single out to give back.

I never let myself yearn for Buckley, afraid he might see my image in a mirror or a bottle cap. Like everyone else I was trying to protect him.

between a man and a woman there was always one person who was stronger than the other one. That doesn't mean the weaker one doesn't love the stronger one, she'd pleaded...for my mother what mattered was that as she spoke, she had suddenly identified herself as the weaker one. This revalation sent her reeling. What had she thought all those years but the opposite?

The fine wall of leaden crystal that had protected her heart - somehow numbed her into disbelief - shattered.

y vi, mientras Samuel daba el atrevido paso de besar a Lindsey delante de toda la familia, que emprendían por fin el vuelo, alejándose de mi muerte.

I felt like observing my way out of there, but I didn't.

She had needed the time to know that this love would not destroy her, and I had, I now knew, given her that time, could give it, for it was what I had in great supply.

I had always been in love with him. I counted the lashes of each closed eye. He had been my almost, my might-have-been, and I did not want to leave him any more than I did my family.

Len estaba a punto de decir algo; mi madre lo vio abrir los labios, y cerró los ojos y ordenó al mundo que callara, gritando las palabras dentro de su cabeza.

No one knew how he continued to do what he did, while simultaneously they wanted him to shut all signs of his grief away, place it in a file somewhere and tuck it in a drawer that no one would be asked to open again.

I wish I had known enough to do the same...tell her I loved her on that last day.

When he felt his heart hurt he turned into something stronger than a little boy, and he grew up this way. A heart that flashed from heart to stone, heart to stone.

When all is said and done, killing my mother came easily.

A letter is always better than a phone call. People write things in letters they would never say in person. They permit themselves to write down feelings and observations using emotional syntax far more intimate and powerful than speech will allow.

Mrs. Casey, do you love Christmas? Well you know, she answered reflectively, Christmas can be a sad time for people too. It's a remembering time for us older ones. We remember the people who are gone. Oh, I never thought of that, I told her in surprise. Well that's youth for you, she said; you don't start to look back over your shoulder until there is something to look back at, and around Christmas I tend to think of the Christmases past and the people gone with them.

I'm mad about the waste that happens when people who love each other can't even bring themselves to talk.

Laughter isn't even the other side of tears. It is tears turned inside out. Truly the suffering is great, here on earth. We blunder along, shredded by our mistakes, bludgeoned by our faults. Not having a clue where the dark path leads us. But on the whole, we stumble along bravely, don't you think?

Never offer your heart to someone who eats hearts who finds heartmeat delicious but not rare who sucks the juices drop by drop and bloody-chinned grins like a God.

We do not believe in heaven or hell...; we do not believe in eternal damnation. We believe only in the unavoidable horror of hurting others and of likewise being hurt.

I've found, in my own writing, that a little hatred, keenly directed, is a useful thing.

My heart hurt so much I can't believe it. How can it keep beating, feeling like this?

If you was my wife, she say, I'd cover you up with kisses stead of licks, and work hard for you too.