Quotes About Emotions

It's one thing to run from ghosts, it's quite another to let them catch you.

love is not reasonable or measured. It undoes you. It's in the imperfections in each other, in ourselves, where we find our humanity. It's in our dents and scars where the deepest connections are made. Real love resides in the parts of me I think no one wants to see.

They weren't a centuries old hunter and a seventeen year old girl, sitting here at the edge of the world. They were just two people, Bonnie and Damon.

All that writers can do is keep trying to say what is deepest in their hearts.

I do not know what you are supposed to do with memories likes these. It feels wrong to want to forget. Perhaps this is why we write these things down, so we can move on.

Women are cats ... and love to scratch even those they're fond of. Sometimes the more they love them the harder they scratch.

My love is hopeless! I know it. But it will feed me to my dying day.

The old know what they want the young are sad and bewildered.

A slight touch of friendly malice and amusement towards those we love keeps our affections for them from turning flat.

aloud she said why not you ray you were involed in this as much as the resst of uswhy is it that bud never tried to do anything to you ?his armed tighted around her.'he knew the worst thing for me was a world without you

she thought ray i'll never see ray again there was a time she looked into those green eyes and said i love you so long ago he'll never know i still do

She leaned over the bed to plant a goodbye kiss on his cheek. Instead he reached up and cupped her head in his left hand, so that he was in charge of her kiss and it landed oh his lips. It was not, as she would have expected, the fumbling kiss of a boy unused to dating but the practiced kiss of a man who knew exactly what he was doing.

What if there's no such thing as PMS, and this is just my personality?

Breaking up is hard to do. But, bustin him in the head ain't that easy, either.

Dating is like nightfall--there's got to be a mourning after.

I don't need no PMS. I can bitch under my own steam.

Let me just say at this juncture that when I let the crazy in, I don't just crack the window. I throw open the front door and invite its friends: paranoia, psychosis, and neurosis. "Maybe

Friends are nice. You can tell' 'em stuff, but you can swear like a gangster at an enemy. And that's all right, too.

In 50 years it won't matter if he's handsome, ugly, or dumb as a post, just try to find someone who don't make you want to shove a pitchfork up his nose.

The worst part of holding the memories is not the pain. It's the loneliness of it. Memories need to be shared.

They were satisfied with their lives which had none of the vibrance his own was taking on. And he was angry at himself, that he could not change that for them.

He knew that there was no quick comfort for emotions like those. They were deeper and they did not need to be told. They were felt.

Love is cruel, but it beats hate by a long shot, kiddos.

For the girl without words, there is laughter for what is light, gesture for want, and tears for all that is dark. There is not much more. Names are nothing but extravagance.