Quotes About Emotions

He loved his mother: doesn't that warm your silly, sentimental, twentieth-century heart? He loved his father. He loved his sister. He loved his niece. He loved his friends. He admired certain individuals. But his affections were always specific; they were not given away to all comers. This seems enough to me.

He had discovered love; but he had also begun to discover that love, far from making him 'what he was', far from spreading deep content all over him like carnation oil, would make him self-conscious and indecisive. He loved Tanya most clearly when he was away from her. When they were together, there were expectations on both sides which he was either unable to identify or couldn't respond to.

The sadness of life. That was another conundrum he would occasionally ponder.

And so, for the first time, I began to feel a more general remorse—a feeling somewhere between self-pity and self-hatred—about my whole life.

Je zit er nog middenin. Je zult er altijd middenin blijven zitten. Nee, niet letterlijk. Maar in je hart. Niets houdt ooit op, niet als het zo diep is gaan zitten. Je zult altijd met een open wond blijven rondlopen. Dat is na verloop van tijd nog de enige keus. Met een open wond rondlopen of dood. Denk je ook niet?

Viver sozinho tem momentos de auto-comiseração e paranóia.

Film-makers and actors can only show a version of the act, but writers can express what people are thinking, feeling, as well as doing.

perhaps it only applies in the States, where emotional optimism is a constitutional duty

I think a great book—leaving aside other qualities such as narrative power, characterization, style, and so on—is a book that describes the world in a way that has not been done before; and that is recognized by those who read it as telling new truths—about society or the way in which emotional lives are led, or both—such truths having not been previously available, certainly not from official records or government documents, or from journalism or television.

The other half wanted to say, I love you, come away with me, sit on my knee, I'll always remember you. You so full of your past, me so full of my future.

someone who will manipulate your inner self while holding hers back from you.

We didn't do anger in my family. We did ironic comment, snappy rejoinder, satirical elaboration; we did exact words forbidding a certain action, and more severe ones condemning what had already taken place. But for anything beyond this, we did the thing enjoined upon the English middle classes for generations. We internalised our rage, our anger, our contempt. We spoke words under our breath.

specific fund, you see. It's a sort of general fund. Because at some point everyone wants to run away from their life. It's about the only thing human beings have in common.

For most of us, the first experience of love, even if it doesn't work out—perhaps especially when it doesn't work out—promises that here is the thing that validates, that vindicates life. And though subsequent years might alter this view, until some of us give up on it altogether, when love first strikes, there's nothing like it, is there? Agreed?

Sad sex is when you feel you're losing all touch with her, and she with you, but this is the way of telling one another that the connection is still there, somehow; that neither of you is giving up on the other, even if part of you fears that you should. Then you discover that insisting on the connection is the same as prolonging the pain.

This ought to have given him a whole storetank of existential rage, but somehow it didn't;

both her secret life and her despair lay in the same inner chamber of her heart, inaccessible to me.

So (and this would have happened earlier, but I am only remembering it now): I am visiting her one afternoon.

Be approximately satisfied with approximate happiness. The only thing in life which is clear and beyond doubt is unhappiness

When you're young—when I was young—you want your emotions to be like the ones you read about in books. You want them to overturn your life, create and define a new reality. Later, I think, you want them to do something milder, something more practical: you want them to support your life as it is and has become. You want them to tell you that things are OK. And is there anything wrong with that?

Tai ir yra gyvenimas, ar ne? Šiek tiek pasiekim? ir šiek tiek nusivylim?.

Be to, tas skausmas truko neilgai. Kaip min?jau, turiu stipr? savisaugos instinkt?. Man pavyko išstumti Veronik? iš širdies ir iš gyvenimo

Part of love is preparing for death. You feel confirmed in your love when she dies. You got it right. This is part of it all.

your lovemaking has become less a search for consolation than a hopeless attempt to deny your mutual unhappiness.