Quotes About Emotions

The heart is a rubber ball. No matter how hard it's crushed, it bounces back.

Why would I be angry? Because they believe a thing does not make it so. There is no dignity in anger. But I am also not a kicked dog.

The day was hot and windless and the sky a hard china blue and I lay alone on the railroad bridge and cried my heart out above a river that seemed to have none.

it wasn't so much the war as what we took into the war. Whatever cracks were already there the war forced apart, and what we might otherwise have kept inside came spilling out.

I lay in the dark thinking about the bitterness inside the pig scarer and the sadness that was there, too, and I figured they were probably twins joined at the hip.

Whatever cracks were already there the war forced apart, and what we might otherwise have kept inside came spilling out.

Everything that's been done to us we carry forever. Most of us do our damnedest to hold on to the good and forget the rest. But somewhere in the vault of our hearts, in a place our brains can't or won't touch, the worst is stored, and the only sure key to it is in our dreams. Wake

understood he was crying. Someone

She sang slowly and richly and delivered the heart of that great spiritual as if she was delivering heaven itself and her face was beautiful and full of peace. I shut my eyes and her voice reached out to wipe away my tears and enfold my heart and assure me absolutely that Bobby Cole was being carried home.

How do you say goodbye when your heart is telling you how horribly wrong that would be? How do you let go when everything inside you is screaming to hold on?

The heart has reasons that reason does not understand. —BLAISE PASCAL

the young woman was either a superb actress or had truly felt, as most women ultimately did, the utter betrayal of love. The

I think that it wasn't so much the war as what we took into the war. Whatever cracks were already there the war forced apart, and what we might otherwise have kept inside came spilling out. You

In a way, he was afraid that to let go of the grieving would be to let go of his father forever.

We tell stories to talk out the trouble in our lives, trouble otherwise so often so unspeakable. It is one of our main ways of making our lives sensible. Trying to live without stories can make us crazy. They help us recognize what we believe to be most valuable in the world, and help us identify what we hold demonic.

Dear old Uncle Skulky, man, is the impossibly mad relative we all have sleeping in our souls.

Why risk the rare happy marriage-rarer still, a love marriage that endures-for something as common and toxic as complete, unthinking, transparent honesty? Who would be helped by my telling? Me? not at all. I was made of steel, I promise you.

A good marriage drags a long tail of memory behind it.

The girl was about to cry, which reminded me of the grown woman I had just left on the sidewalk also near tears. Jesus, there was no escaping them.

He closed his eyes for a moment and tasted the emotions before they slipped away.

If, looking back upon the lengthened way My feet have trod, since, long ago, I left Those well-known shores, and when mine eyes are filled With tears, I take the pencil in its turn, and shading light the landscape spread below..."

Debemos ser en extremo cuidadosos De la semilla que nuestra mano sembrará; El amor del amor germinará, El odio del odio crecerá".

The affection of young ladies is of as rapid growth as Jack's beanstalk, and reaches up to the sky in a night.

It is best to love wisely, no doubt but to love foolishly is better than not to be able to love at all.