Quotes About Emotions

A heart's a heavy burden

Anyway, Sophie's experience told her that tantrums are seldom about the thing they appear to be about.

I may be clever, she thought, quite sadly, but I'm not in the least kind or sympathetic.

There goes Mig with her happy endings again, Chris said. But I don't care. I like happy endings. And I asked Chris why something should be truer just because it's unhappy. He couldn't answer.

Sophie scrubbed on vigorously. "You'll be much happier when it's all nice and clean," she said. "But I'm miserable now!" Michael protested.

You'll be the death of me! You're as heartless as Howl!" Calcifer choked.

Me encuentro mal, como si tuviera un gran peso en el pecho. - Un corazón es una pesada carga.

She realized Howl was going out then. "You'll make your cold worse," she said. "I shall die and then you'll all be sorry," the red-bearded man said, and went out through the door with the knob green-down.

In fact, Cat was fairly sure Tonino was feeling just the way Cat had felt himself when he first came to Chrestomanci Castle, and Cat could not get over the annoyance of having someone have feelings that were his.

I like you, too! she blubbered at the top of her voice. I do, I do. You're a lovely Goon. You're my favourite Goon in all the world!

Tell me, do you sometimes find yourself unaccountably sad on some days?

Howl conjured another wad of handkerchiefs and glowered at Sophie over them out of eyes that were now red-rimmed and watery. Then he stood up. 'I feel ill,' he announced. 'I'm going to bed, where I may die.

Odeio os infelizes - disse Calcifer. - Eles pingam em mim. Prefiro os furiosos.

Honestly, David, sometimes when they all start I don't know whether to scream or just walk out into the sunset. [...] - Why don't you do both? Walk into the sunset screaming?

You know the way they have mouths that don't seem to smile in the same way as normal people's.

Seeing Seb's jeering face, it came to her that Seb had always loved her the way most people bear a grudge.

You should prize this pain of yours. This is what will make you human all the way through. Nothing less will do that.

Love is like a batik created from many emotional colors, it is a fabric whose pattern and brightness may vary.

We tend to think of memories as monuments we once forged and may find intact beneath the weedy growth of years. But, in a real sense, memories are tied to and describe the present. Formed in an idiosyncratic way when they happened, they're also true to the moment of recall, including how you feel, all you've experienced, and new values, passions, and vulnerability. One never steps into the same stream of consciousness twice.

I was moving in a narrow range between busy distractedness and a pervasive sadness whose granules seemed to enter each cell, weighing it down... I ghosted between islands of anxiety... a fatigue that dulled my zest, decanted it. Sorrow felt like a marble coat I couldn't shed.

As fleeting emotions stalk it, a face can leak fear or the guilt of a forming lie.

Without memories we wouldn't know who we are, how we once were, who we'd like to be in the memorable future. We are the sum of our memories.

Frantic and serene, vigilant and calm, wrung-out and fortified, explosive and sedate—love commands a vast army of moods. Hoping for victory, limping from the latest skirmish, lovers enter the arena once again. Sitting still, we are as daring as gladiators.

They spend their whole lives yelling at the world and each other. They yell at their loved ones, they yell at their enemies, they yell at their dinner, they yell at the big bustling world.