Quotes About Emotions

spilled out like a volcanic eruption. Wardrobe

Plants won't wither if we always water them. So it's, also, with the memories. It's good, when they're pleasant, but if they aren't, then it's madness.

I wanted to learn more of love- that is built not on the shifting sands of violent passion but on the steady rock of deep and abiding affection.

The more I disliked myself the more wretched I grew. The difference now was that this mood did not manifest itself in sullen silence; I merely made use of my barbed tongue to wound them and spoil their pleasure.

He had all the most charming and irresistible gestures that a girl deeply in love looks for and who refuses to tell herself that they may have been acquired through long practice.

I did not wish her to go on in this strain because her poverty was something which obsessed her and like all obsessions was boring to other people.

You spent your lie preparing revenge. You should've spent it seeking happiness.

About these times, my father says that he wishes he had made better decisions. That the burden of raising us alone led him to favor strict regimens and that he wasn't able to talk about his emotions. In retrospect, there is a lot he wishes he'd done differently.

When I go to a concert, I can't help but feel happy and everything else just goes away. I hope everyone feels that way at my concerts.

I've written a few songs that have to do with being in a relationship, the bad and the good.

If people could just understand how it actually felt to be depressed, obsessed, frightened, out of control, maybe they'd be more tolerant, more understanding.

I didn't feel that I had any good qualities. Or rather, none were good enough. Nothing I did or said was good enough, but I couldn't make anyone understand the way I felt.

For the first time in months, I felt together. Sharp. In hurting myself, I had at last found a way to release the pressure. But it was more than that. I was now different. I felt different. I'd discovered a way to control my feelings. Just because self-mutilation wasn't deemed an acceptable coping mechanism didn't mean I was going to stop doing it

Some days, it was enough just to know that I had a packet of blades in the house. They were a cold, very sharp, security blanket.

It was a difficult situation." Dara laughed bitterly. "Well. What made it worse, of course, was that I was madly in love with Álvaro from the moment I met him.

None of them spoke to each other after the decision was made, splitting off in separate directions to separate rooms, all coming to terms with the possibility this might be their last night alive.

I hope I never meet the guy that did this to you.

You show your vulnerability through relationships, and those feelings are your soft spot. You need to have a soft spot.

Sometimes I think we need to tell our stories more than anyone needs to hear our stories. Maybe just so that anticipation or happiness can be reached for again. But other times it is almost as if the story itself wants repeating. So that the strand of hair caught in a kiss or the turn of a beautiful face isn't lost forever. So that, especially when it comes to beauty, we're not alone and left with the burden of remembering.

A father is available to help his daughter balance both her love and her anger toward her mother, to moderate the inevitable emotional extremes in the intense mother-daughter equation. With Daddy's steadying influence daughters can learn to be comfortable with healthy anger, rather than feeling that they must be eternal good girls who must at all costs conceal it.

If you scratch below the glossy surface of many "enviable" marriages, often you'll find a disenchanted wife whose husband finds the landscape of her emotions as uninteresting as the moon's.

Another step is that daughters can learn to monitor their own feelings and instincts by saying, "I feel uncomfortable (angry, dominated, usurped, inadequate, guilty, furious) with my mother more often than I do not. I have to pay attention to that, because it shows in how I treat my friends (lover, spouse, kids, colleagues). There is validity here. I don't have to blame or excuse my mother-I just have to see her so I can see myself.

We forget in order to survive our childhoods, when we are totally dependent on our parents' goodwill; but to recover from such childhoods, we must begin by remembering-the bad and the good.

When we recognize that we are not responsible for our childhood deprivations, and that we are entitled to feel anger (but not to act on it - awareness is not a license to kill), then we are able to let go of that anger and not be controlled by it.