Quotes About Emotions

Is thee afraid of me, Rachel?" he whispered. "I am," she whispered back, and closed her hand on his wounded shoulder, lightly but hard enough for him to feel the hurt of it. "And I am afraid for thee, as well. But there are things I fear much more than death—and to be without thee is what I fear most.

Quite without warning, I began to cry. No sobbing, no throat-gripping spasms. Water simply welled in my eyes and flowed down my cheeks, slow as cold honey. A quiet acknowledgment of despair as things spiraled slowly out of control.

And was there love there? Beyond the limits of flesh and time, was all love possible? Was it necessary? The voice of my thoughts seemed to be Uncle Lamb's. My family, and all I knew of love as a child. A man who had never spoken love to me, who had never needed to, for I knew he loved me, as surely as I knew I loved. For where all love is, the speaking is unnecessary. It is all. It is undying. And it is enough.

Je t'aime, it said: I love you. Un peu, beaucoup, passionnément, pas du tout: A little, a lot, passionately—not at all.

The body forms internal scars as well as surface scars when a wound heals—and so does the mind.

Good sex scene is about the exchange of emotions, not bodily fluids

An unaccustomed weed of jealousy sprang up in Jamie's heart, stinging like nettles. He stamped firmly on it; he was fortunate indeed to know that his son enjoyed a loving relationship with his stepfather. There, that was the weed stamped out. The stamping, though, seemed to have left a small bruised spot on his heart; he could feel it when he breathed.

And his release began, deep inside me, without his moving, shivering through his body so that his arms trembled, the ruddy hairs quivering in the dim light, and he dropped his head with a sound like a sob, his hair hiding his face as he spilled himself, each jerk and pulse of his flesh between my legs rousing an echo in my own.

Forgiveness doesna make things go away.

You have lost your mind,Jamie said coldly, the shock receding slightly. Or I should think you had, if ye had one to lose.

He wasn't going to pretend it hadn't hurt to hear it, but he wouldn't let himself be angry; that would help neither of them.

I'm glad you're not dead. Wasn't sure for a bit." Hal went out before he could reply. Tears welled in John's eyes, and he dashed at them with the sleeve of his nightshirt, muttering irritably in a vain attempt to convince himself that he wasn't moved.

Feelings aren't truth.

Jamie stood quite still, feeling his heart beat, watching. It was one of those strange moments that came to him rarely, but never left. A moment that stamped itself on heart and brain, instantly recallable in every detail, for all of his life. There was no telling what made these moments different from any other, though he knew them when they came.

If needs must, she could do those things for herself-or find another man. And yet...she needed him-would mourn his loss if it came. Perhaps forever. In his present vulnerable mood, that knowledge seemed a great gift.

But when I lay wi' Emily—from the first time. I knew. Kent who I was again." He looked up at her then, eyes dark and shadowed by loss. "My soul didna wander while I slept—when I slept wi' her.

I felt at once horribly vulnerable and yet completely safe. But then—I had always felt that way with Jamie Fraser.

I know what it felt Ã¢â'¬Â¦ like when I Ã¢â'¬Â¦ thought you were dead, and—" A small gasp for breath, and her eyes locked on his. "And I wouldn't do that to you.

have always kent what it is to love a man—be he husband or brother, lover or son. A dangerous business; that's what it is. Men go where they will, they do as they must; it is not a woman's part to bid them stay, nor yet to reproach them for being what they are—or for not coming back.

I felt simultaneously wonderful and wretched, and didn't know from moment to moment which feeling was uppermost.

I felt at once horribly vulnerable and yet completely safe.

He could not help himself; whether it brought him comfort or misery, he felt he had no choice now but to speak of Fraser—and Quarry was the only man in London to whom he could so speak.

It's true!" She whirled toward Jamie, fists clenched against the cloak she still wore. "It's true! It's the Sassenach witch! How could ye do such a thing to me, Jamie Fraser?

Post coitum omne animalium triste est