Quotes About Emotions

She hated feeling helpless. It writhed in her stomach, choking her with thoughts of dancing the rest of her life in the arms of a gentleman who pushed her about and laughed when she stumbled or, worse, didn't even look at her at all. She wondered if she would be able to give the Soul's Curtsy, with all her heart and soul, to anyone, and the thought made her ill.

Ultimately, Laura found sufficient resources, both internal and external, to wean herself from the medications, and to see her emotions and moods as fundamentally human, rather than as problems to be solved.

It would be nice if I did have a good relationship with my family, and yes, part of me longs to have a mum and dad who love and accept me for who I am. But if they never do, it's OK.

living or dead, it's always people that haunt the living!" Mae said

I do love you, Jesse, so much. And once it worried me, that I could love a Yankee so thoroughly, so desperately, so completely. But a friend told me something once. He said that I don't love a Yankee, I love a man. And I do, Jesse, I love you. And the color that you wear can't change the man that you are. I love that man.

tried to make her understand that she couldn't control other people, only her own reaction to them.

Say it, Christa! Dammit, was I imagining things, or did you say that you loved me?" "I—" She paused. "I said it!" she whispered. "And you meant it?" She lowered her gaze and then her head. "I meant it.

Don't look at me like that!" he ordered her. He jerked her close against him. "It's you, Callie, always you! From the beginning. You wouldn't look at me because you had to have Michaelson! Well, lady, place that at your feet too. No battle killed him.

Anthony is far too besotted a fool, Kiernan," Jesse said bluntly. "He hasn't been making love to you in dark corners. He allows you to dangle him along at your whim and asks for nothing in return but one of those devastating smiles. Well, I'm not Anthony, Kiernan. I love you, but my mind is my own, and I cannot change what I see as right or wrong for you or for anyone else. Do you understand that?

Christa, she was fine and sweet and gentle, and yes, I loved her, and dear God, yes, I'm sorry the war killed her, just as I'm sorry the war killed so many! But Christa, I have never wished that you were anyone but you, and I have prayed only that our child might survive. If you haven't read my heart, Christa, then you are a stupid, stupid Reb as well!

he wondered again how they managed to tear each other apart so completely.

Escape...had seemed the only way to ease the pain.

I warned you before not to marry him if he couldn't kiss you as I did. Now I can warn you that you'll never have anything like you had tonight with him. Not in a thousand years, Kiernan.

I hate you, Jesse!" she reminded him. To her surprise, he smiled a slow, anguished, crooked smile. "I know," he said, and added very softly, "and I still love you.

Kelsey was up there, and she was devastated. Holding it together

He caught her arm. "I'm sorry," he whispered. His blue eyes were intent upon hers. "For I will love you the rest of my life.

Nothing mattered to him about a person other than what was inside them.

Yet this chirpy insistence on positivity has a strange way of enhancing the dread and anxiety and melancholy that lie just beneath the surface of things.

When everything is bent into a jolly shape, everything feels more mournful than it should.

The question isn't whether or not your stuff sparks joy. The question is: Can you spark joy all by yourself?

They treat each other the way Mozart's father treated him. They say to each other, "Whatever is here, even when it feels a little dark, even when it confuses me, I have chosen it as divine.

I used to admire people who could hang with anything. Now the women I admire the most are women who never pretend to be different than they are. Women like that express their anger. They admit when they're down. They don't beat themselves up over their bad moods. They allow themselves to be grumpy sometimes. They grant themselves the right to be grouchy, or to say nothing, or to decline your offer without a lengthy explanation.

You are weak and raw and broken, and that's okay. That's where real life begins. Throw yourself into that rawness., Dive into a bunch of stories about absorbing and leaning into disappointment and loss and melancholy as a way of moving through it.

I couldn't just love someone and be loved back. That was too easy. That didn't feel right. I was more familiar with dissatisfaction.