Quotes About Emotions

You can't control the outside world but you can control what happens inside.

it became clear that he was the only one who harbored long-term grievances about their childhood.

If you think peaceful thoughts, you'll feel peaceful emotions, and that's what you'll bring to every life situation.

You can't control the outside world but you can control what happens inside book

Benjamin Franklin once observed, "While we may not be able to control all that happens to us, we can control what happens inside us.

Once you learn that you can feel what you choose to feel, you will be on the road to intelligence—a road where there are no bypaths that lead to [Nervous Break Downs]

Simply put, you believe that things or people make you unhappy, but this is not accurate. You make yourself unhappy because of the thoughts that you have about the people or things in your life. Becoming a free and healthy person involves learning to think differently.

You are the person responsible for how you feel. You feel what you think, and you can learn to think differently about anything—if you decide to do so.

Snatch a thought from the running ribbon of thoughts and contemplate it. As you toss it around, notice how you feel—sad, depressed, happy, frightened, and so on. Every thought going by has an imprint on your concept of yourself. First be the observer, and then the contemplator. Now become the choice maker who can consciously decide to put that thought back into the running stream and pick a different one, a thought that perhaps allows you to feel better.

The thrill bumps that you experience are evidence of our enthusiasm for what you are experiencing in that moment. You think those thrill bumps belong only to you, but they are actually you resonating with the way we feel.

MAJOR PREMISE: I can control my thoughts. MINOR PREMISE: My feelings come from my thoughts. CONCLUSION: I can control my feelings.

I fell asleep that night thinking about the kiss that might have been. What did a kiss feel like, anyway? Somehow I knew it wouldn't be like the one I got from Mom or Dad at bedtime. The same species, maybe, but a radically different beast, to be sure. Like a wolf and a whippet – only science would put them on the same tree.

I miss school. What's wrong with me?

Aw, he's just you know...entrenched, Matt said. Gotta adjust to the perspective and deal from there. Then he added, Not that I'd want him as my dad.... Mike practically sprayed his milk. Dude! Can you imagine? Then Matt gave my dad a slap on the back and said, No way. I'm sticking with my main man here. My mom grinned from across the kitchen and said, Me too. I'd never seen my father cry. And he didn't exactly sit there bawling, but there were definitely tears welling up in his eyes.

Bryce, I asked you to conquer your fear, but all you did was give in to it. If you were in love with her, that would be one thing. Love is something to be afraid of, but this, this is embarassing. So she talks too much, so she's too enthused about every little thing, so what? Get in, get your question answered, and get out. Stand up to her, for cryin' out loud!

Holly, I understand that you are upset because Gemma pulled down your ants, but why did you think pouring motor oil inside her backpack is the way to solve the problem?

What did a kiss feel like, anyway? Somehow I knew it wouldn't be like the one I got from Mom and Dad at bedtime. The same species maybe, but a radically different beast, to be sure.

It felt like there was a dark spot in my heart. Like a bruise. And it was getting deeper and wider with every lie I told.

Words can't fix my life. Words can't give me a family. Words can't do jack. You may be a teacher, Ms. Leone, but face it: You don't know squat.

Then a few months ago I found myself talking to the tree. An entire conversation, just me and a tree. And on the climb down I felt like crying. Why didn't I have someone real to talk to? Why didn't I have a best friend like everyone else seemed to? Sure, there were kids I knew at school, but none of them were close friends. They'd have no interest in climbing the tree. In smelling the sunshine.

But I've never spoken to a grave before. I don't know what to say. I don't know how. 'I'm so sorry,' I choke out, but that's as far as I get before I start crying. I feel bad that she's gone. I feel overwhelmed. And I feel guilt. Guilt that I've recovered. Guilt that I'm happy. Guilt that I ever thought she was the lucky one.

Today I've been considering how life's journey is not about the distance we move our feet, but how we are moved in our heart.

It was nice, though, riding with my father. It was like the silence connected us in a way that explanations never could.

Anger is a dry riverbed. You should follow it only if it leads you to the springs of forgiveness.