Quotes About Emotions

The time will come, my darling, we'll get frail and sick and stubborn and your stomach will twist with love and terror each time we call, but plenty of time, don't get ahead of yourself, we're not there yet.

Every conversation with her mother was fraught with danger. It was as if they were former players from competing teams who shared a long and violent history.

I know I've been laughing and making jokes and whatever, so you probably think I'm a heartless bitch, but it's like a defense mechanism or something.

she couldn't seem to wrestle control of her feelings. She cried and cried.

She'd always known her reaction to that night had been too big, or perhaps too small. She hadn't ever cried. She hadn't told anyone. She'd swallowed it whole and pretended it meant nothing, therefore it had come to mean everything.

When you divorce someone, you divorce the whole family.

You okay, Mum?" said Rob. "I'm fine," said Rachel. She went to reach for her cup of coffee and found that she didn't have the energy to even lift her arm.

Marriage to Perry meant she was always ready to justify her actions, constantly monitoring what she'd just said or done, while simultaneously feeling defensive about the defensiveness, her thoughts and feelings twisting into impenetrable knots, so that sometimes, like right now, sitting in a room with normal people, all the things she couldn't say rose in her throat and for a moment she couldn't breathe.

Every time she fell out of love with him, he saw it happen and waited it out. He never stopped loving her, even those times when he felt deeply hurt and betrayed by her, even in that bad year when they talked about separating, he'd just gone along with it, waiting for her to come back to him, thanking God and his dad up above each time she did.

It was irresistible, like they were being tickled themselves. Their eyes met across the table, and at that instant, Rachel's laughter turned into a sob.

It was stupid to feel hurt that he had not told her he was going out, because this was the way they were living right now, but still her heart felt newly hurt, as tender and soft as bruised fruit.

Apparently, the moment your ovaries noticed you were worried about becoming pregnant, they refused to cooperate. Oh well, if you're going to get all huffy about it, we'll just close down.

and she feels a rush of motherly affection for her, so much so that she even considers tucking the blanket under Veronika's chin, except she doesn't want to risk waking her and feeling her affection evaporate.

Finally, little by little, the vise around her chest loosened its grip enough for her to breathe again. It never went away completely. She'd accepted that a long time ago. She'd die with the clamp of grief still wrapped around her chest. She didn't want it to go away. That would be like Janie had never existed.

It was why marriages fell apart. It was why, if you valued your marriage, you kept a barricade around yourself and your feelings and your thoughts.

I am a jumble of passions, misgivings, and wants. It seems that I am always in a state of wishing and rarely in a state of contentment.

One's happiness depends less on what he knows than on what he feels.

No people are more conceited than those who depict their own feelings, especially if they happen to have a little prose at their command for the occasion.

I am convinced that we not only love ourselves in others, but hate ourselves in others too.

The most important emotional accomplishment of the toddler years is reconciling the urge to become competent and self-reliant with the longing for parental love and protection.

Suicide is the dumbest possible way of getting revenge. Why is that? Because the people you want to strike back at are the very same folks who won't even remember you a week after you're gone, while the people you want to spare most -- the people who love you -- are the ones who will have to live with the pain of your suicide for the rest of their lives.

If you don't think women are explosive, drop one.

Whether mothers speak with words or with body language -- which girls usually understand as well as declarative sentences -- a mother's feelings become a reference point for a daughter in her growing-up years.

sometimes, if you're sincere about what you have to say, if you want to communicate the full force of human emotions like grief and longing and gratitude, you try writing and then realize that your words are just as transient as you are, that they always fail you when you need them most, and that if they can't serve their purpose and convey meaning perfectly—if they can't reach the unborn and the dead—then they're better off buried or burned.2