Quotes About Emotions

It's now six a.m. and I'm smoking. Oh yeah, Tracey: it's all going so fucking well. The lonely princess. Carbon monoxide is feeding my soul.

Our family has gone through a very difficult time. My husband and I have taken the brunt of it. I've never known what it truly felt like to be so sad and desperate inside.

I am sorry, my dear. It was never my intention to be cruel." "I am not your 'dear,' so please refrain from calling me such," Hannah said, narrowing her eyes.

You all right?" She looked up to find William Barnett watching her from the back door. "I'm fine. Why do you ask?" "It looked like you were scowling. I figured either you were thinking of me or something was wrong.

Sounds like you're worried—maybe you have feelings for Miss Dandridge." Narrowing his eyes, William scowled. "You're the Romeo, not me." Tyler studied him for a moment. "Not this time. You look a mite lovesick, if you ask me." "Well, I'm not.

Words spoken in haste cannot be taken back. And while they may be forgiven, the memories will linger to warn the heart of future encounters.

She joined the celebration, a wooden smile fixed to her face, but inside, she was a wasteland, everything burning to ash.

How was it that homesickness could be more painful than a bullet wound?

You're so calm and quiet, you never say. But there are things inside you. I see them sometimes, hiding in your eyes.

I really don't want to have to put your heart back together again a second time." His gaze was direct, his eyes locked on hers. "Stop breaking it, then," he replied softly. The

After Aris awoke from and intense dream: '"Are you well? You were... making noises." Dysis sounded like she couldn't tell whether to be embarrassed or concerned.

And even before your toddler is fully verbal, going over the day is also a wonderful idea, because it helps a child process her fears.

One minute, I'm the best and most loving mother in the world to my two-week-old. The next, I feel like I want to leave the house and never return because it's all too much." "That's okay, luv," I said, smiling. "That just means you're like every other new mother." "Really?" she asked. "I was beginning to think something was wrong with me.

realistic: The postpartum period is difficult—a rocky terrain. All but a rare few stumble along the way. (More about Mum recuperating during the postpartum period in Chapter 7.) Believe me, I know that the moment you get home, you'll probably feel overwhelmed. But if you follow my simple homecoming ritual, you're less likely to feel frantic. (Remember

We want so much, When perhaps we live best In the spaces between loves, That unconscious roving, The heart its own rough animal. Unfettered.

One of poetry's great effects, through its emphasis upon feeling, association, music and image — things we recognize and respond to even before we understand why — is to guide us toward the part of ourselves so deeply buried that it borders upon the collective. "Staying Human: Poetry in the Age of Technology

while the father storms through adjacent rooms ranting with the force of kingdom come, not caring anymore what might snap us in its jaw

Old loves turn up in dreams, still livid at every slight.

I am you, one day out of five, Tired, empty, hating what I carry But afraid to lay it down, stingy, Angry, doing violence to others By the sheer freight of my gloom, Halfway home, wanting to stop, to quit But keeping going mostly out of spite.

BARBARA: You do understand that it hurts, to go from sharing a bed with you for twenty-three years to sleeping by myself. BILL: I'm here, now. BARBARA: Men always say shit like that, as if the past and the future don't exist. BILL: Can we not make this a gender discussion? BARBARA: Do men really believe that here and now is enough? It's just horseshit, to avoid talking about the things they're afraid to say.

IVY: This isn't whimsy. This isn't fleeting. This is unlike anything I've ever felt, for anybody. Charles and I have something rare, and extraordinary, something very few people ever have. KAREN: Which is what? IVY: Understanding.

BARBARA: Even if things don't work out with you and Marsha. BILL: Cindy. BARBARA: Cindy. BILL: Right. Even if things don't work out. BARBARA: And I'm never really going to understand why, am I? (Bill struggles . . . it seems as if he might say something more, but then:) BILL: Probably not. (Silence. Bill heads for the door. Barbara watches him go and sobs.) BARBARA: I love you . . . I love you . . . (He stands for a moment, his back to her. He exits. Barbara stands, alone.)

KAREN: What do you want me to say? BARBARA: Tell him we got a sick woman here. VIOLET: You can't do this! This is my house! This is my house! BARBARA: You don't get it, do you? (With a burst of adrenaline, she strides to Violet, towers over her) I'M RUNNING THINGS NOW! (Blackout.)

BARBARA: Lot of fish in the sea. Surely you can rule out the one single man in the world you're related to. IVY: I happen to love the man I'm related— BARBARA: Fuck love, what a crock of shit. People can convince themselves they love a painted rock.