Quotes About Emotions

It feels like you can't breathe, but you actually are breathing. It feels like you'll never stop crying, but you actually will.

But then she just got tired of hating him and started loving him again. It was easier.

Baths, she thought, were just like her relationships, all "ooh, ah" in the beginning and then suddenly, without warning, she had to get out, out, out!

I can hardly bear to think of ourselves hugging and crying and making giggly phone calls, like we were in some inane sitcom. We actually discussed names. Names! I want to shout back through the years at myself, "Just because you're pregnant doesn't mean you get a baby, you idiots!

about six months ago, after my fortieth, I started to feel so...the only word I can think of is 'bland.' Or 'flat' might be a better word.

There was nothing worse than having to feel sorry for people who had wronged you. You don't want lottery wins for your enemies, but you don't want tragedies for them either. Then they got the upper hand. Damn those Delaneys.

If she was handing over a slice of her heart, she wanted the exact same size given back in return. Actually, she really preferred a bigger piece, thank you very much.

They say it's good to let your grudges go, but I don't know, I'm quite fond of my grudge. I tend it like a little pet.

It was unfortunate the way adults had to repress their true feelings.

Your children see!" screamed Bonnie. Her face was ugly with rage. "We see! We fucking see!

How horrible it was to be despised. To feel yourself to be despicable.

You could try as hard as you could to imagine someone else's tragedy - but nothing truly hurts until it happens to you.

sometimes, like right now, there was just ordinary, dull sadness, settling itself softly, suffocatingly over her like a heavy fog. She was just so damned sad.

It wasn't logical, but the better you knew someone, the more blurry they became. The accumulation of facts made them disappear.

I'm the only one left holding a grudge. They say it's good to let your grudges go, but I don't know, I'm quite fond of my grudge. I tend it like a little pet.

She felt detached from all aspects of her life. She had no time anymore to feel. All that time she used to waste feeling, and analyzing her feelings, as if they were a matter of national significance.

It looked like girls were controlled by their feelings but the opposite was true. Girls had excellent control of their feelings. They spun them around like batons: Now I'm crying! Now I'm laughing! Who knows what I'll do next! Not you! A boy's emotions were like baseball bats that blindsided him.

She didn't want to admit, even to herself, just how much the aging of her face really did genuinely depress her. She wanted to be above such superficial concerns. She wanted to be depressed about the state of the world, not the crumpling and creasing of her skin. Each time she saw evidence of the natural aging of her body, she felt irrationally ashamed, as if she weren't trying hard enough.

The house was literally perfect now. Instead of being thrilling, that suddenly seemed depressing.

Cat felt that sense of pleasure and pride that she always felt when she saw her sisters in public. "Look at them!" she wanted to say to people. "My sisters. Aren't they great? Aren't they annoying?

But if the girls hadn't got their knickers in a knot, and that might sound sexist but it's not, it's just a fact of life, ask any man, not some new age, artsy-fartsy, I-wear-moisturiser type, I mean a real man, ask a real man, then he'll tell you that women are like the Olympic athletes of grudges.

Why weren't they just overcome with joy every time they looked at those kids? Why in the world were they divorcing?

Was she ever grumpy? Did she ever yell? Fall about laughing? Eat too much? Drink too much? Call out for someone to bring her toilet paper? Lose her car keys? Was she ever just a human being?

You weren't meant to admit, even to yourself, how badly you wanted love. The man was meant to be the icing, not the cake.