Quotes About Emotions

Fear is born of the thought of failure when one is attached to success. Anger is born of frustrated desire.

If you want to be sad, no one in the world can make you happy. But if you make up your mind to be happy, no one and nothing on earth can take that happiness from you. If you have given up hope of ever being happy, cheer up.

plants have a sensitive nervous system and a varied emotional life. Love, hate, joy, fear, pleasure, pain, excitability, stupor, and countless other appropriate responses to stimuli are as universal in plants as in animals.

A saint that is sad is a sad saint!

Wrath springs only from thwarted desires. I do not expect anything from others, so their actions cannot be in opposition to wishes of mine. I

Dotado de una mentalidad eminentemente lógica y matemática, su conducta se basaba principalmente en el razonamiento. Mi madre, por su parte, era una reina de corazones y nos educó exclusivamente por medio del amor. Después de su fallecimiento, la ternura interior de mi padre comenzó a exteriorizarse más y entonces noté a menudo que su mirada parecía transformarse en la mirada de mi madre.

Basking day by day in the sunshine of my guru's love, unspoken but keenly felt, I banished from my conscious mind the various hints he had given of his approaching passing.

If you want to be sad, no one in the world can make you happy. But if you make up your mind to be happy, no one and nothing on Earth can take that happiness from you

Fear, tenderness - these emotions were so despised that they could be admitted into consciousness only at the cost of redefining what it meant to be a man.

All Achilles's emotions seemed to be varying shades of anger.

No one looks him in the face now, it's as if his grief frightens them. What are they afraid of? That one day they'll have to endure pain like this? Or that they never will, that they're incapable of it, because grief's only ever as deep as the love it's replaced.

grief's only ever as deep as the love it's replaced.

We women are peculiar creatures. We tend not to love those who murder our families.

I will never forget that she cried for me when I was not able to cry for myself.

Nobody looks him in the face now, it's as if his grief frightens them. What are they afraid of? That one day they'll have to endure pain like this? Or that they never will, that they're incapable of it, because grief's only ever as deep as the love it's replaced.

A flicker of fear, but it faded. The man looked round the room again, as if searching for something, but for something inside himself, Colin thought. For something he ought to feel, and couldn't.

In leading his patients to understand that breakdown was nothing to be ashamed of, that horror and fear were inevitable responses to the trauma of war and were better acknowledged than suppressed, that feelings of tenderness for other men were natural and right, that tears were an acceptable and helpful part of grieving, he was setting himself against the whole tenor of their upbringing. They'd been trained to identify emotional repression as the essence of manliness.

because grief's only ever as deep as the love it's replaced.

Perhaps pain, even other people's pain, becomes a smell you carry round with you? A

He paused. Then added with great emphasis: You must speak, but I shall not listen to anything you have to say.

In the face of their suffering, isn't it self-indulgent to think about his own feelings? He has nobody to talk to about such things and blunders his way through as best he can. If you feel nothing—this is what he comes back to time and time again—you might just as well be a machine, and machines aren't very good at caring for people.

If he'd learned nothing else at the Slade he'd learned that men and women could be friends, even intimate friends, without sex intruding.

We howled, all of us, for the loss of our homeland - for the loss of our fathers, husbands, brothers, sons, for everybody we'd ever loved. For all the men carried away on that blood-dark tide.

From then on the improvement was dramatic, though still the conversations with the dead friend continued, until one morning he awoke crying, and realized he was crying, not only for his own loss but also for his friend's, for the unloved years.