Quotes About Emotions

If you prick us, do we not bleed? if you tickle us, do we not laugh? if you poison us, do we not die? and if you wrong us, shall we not revenge?

Some Cupid kills with arrows, some with traps.

I pray you, do not fall in love with me, for I am falser than vows made in wine.

Out of my sight! Thou dost infect mine eyes.

Why then, O brawling love! O loving hate! O any thing, of nothing first create! O heavy lightness, serious vanity, Misshapen chaos of well-seeming forms, Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick health, Still-waking sleep, that is not what it is! This love feel I, that feel no love in this.

The robb'd that smiles, steals something from the thief; He robs himself that spends a bootless grief.

love is blind and lovers cannot see the pretty follies that themselves commit

Love moderately. Long love doth so. Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow. *Love each other in moderation. That is the key to long-lasting love. Too fast is as bad as too slow.*

The weight of this sad time we must obey, Speak what we feel, not what we ought to say. The oldest hath borne most: we that are young Shall never see so much, nor live so long.

My hands are of your color, but I shame to wear a heart so white.

No sooner met but they looked; no sooner looked but they loved; no sooner loved but they sighed; no sooner sighed but they asked one another the reason; no sooner knew the reason but they sought the remedy; and in these degrees have they made a pair of stairs to marriage...

Go to your bosom; Knock there, and ask your heart what it doth know.

It's easy for someone to joke about scars if they've never been cut.

How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is To have a thankless child!

Give me that man that is not passion's slave, and I will wear him in my heart's core, in my heart of heart, as I do thee.

You may my glories and my state depose, But not my griefs; still am I king of those.

She never told her love, but let concealment, like a worm 'i th' bud, feed on her damask cheek. She pinned in thought; and, with a green and yellow melancholy, she sat like Patience on a monument, smiling at grief. Was not this love indeed? We men may say more, swear more; but indeed our shows are more than will; for we still prove much in our vows but little in our love.

Alas, that love, so gentle in his view, Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof! *It's sad. Love looks like a nice thing, but it's actually very rough when you experience it.*

Love goes toward love as schoolboys from their books, But love from love, toward school with heavy looks.

For man is a giddy thing, and this is my conclusion.

When you depart from me sorrow abides and happiness takes his leave.

It is not, nor it cannot, come to good, But break, my heart, for I must hold my tongue.

There's little of the melancholy element in her, my lord: she is never sad but when she sleeps; and not ever sad then; for I have heard my daughter say, she hath often dreamt of unhappiness, and waked herself with laughing.

Ay me! sad hours seem long.