Quotes About Emotions

I know,' he said, because he was human, and therefore, in a way, he did.

Through the written word they can anger you or make you happy. They can comfort you. They can perplex you. They can alter you.

All my unsaid words went back to wherever they had been all these years.

There is something about words.

He put an arm around me, I know, he said. I know. He didn't know, of course. Not really. And yet that was what he said, and I was soothed to hear it. For I knew what he meant. We all have our sorrows, and although the exact delineaments, weight and dimensions of grief are different for everyone, the color of grief is common to us all. I know, he said, because he was human, and therefore, in a way, he did.

We all have our sorrows, and although the exact delineaments, the weight and the dimensions of grief are different for everyone, the colour of grief is common to us all. 'I know,' he said, because he was human, and therefore, in a way, he did.

What is it that allows human beings to see through each other's pretendings? For I understood quite clearly in that moment that she was anxious. Perhaps emotions have a smell or taste; perhaps we transmit them unknowingly by vibrations in the air. Whatever the means, I knew just as surely that it was nothing about me in particular that alarmed her, but only the fact that I had come and was a stranger.

What is it that allows human beings to see through each other's pretendings? For I understood quite clearly in that moment that she was anxious. Perhaps emotions have a smell or a taste; perhaps we transmit them unknowingly by vibrations in the air. Whatever the means, I knew just as surely that it was nothing about me in particular that alarmed her, but only the fact that I had come and was a stranger.

All the grief I had kept at bay for years by means of books and bookcases approached me now.

We all have our sorrows, and although the exact delineaments, weight and dimensions of grief are different for everyone, the color of grief is common to us all. "I know," he said, because he was human, and therefore, in a way, he did.

To make it true? Was it for me or for her that he made these thankless efforts to connect us? It was an impossible task.

There are times when the human face and body can express the yearning of the heart so accurately that you can, as they say, read them like a book.

I'm sorry," I heard her say. "One gets so used to one's own horrors, one forgets how they must seem to other people.

You may not want to be my son, but I cannot help but be your father.

half crazed with pain, astounded that the human body could feel so much and not die of it.

He didn't know, of course. Not really. And yet that was what he said and I was soothed to hear it. For I knew what he meant. We all have our sorrows, and although the exact delineaments, the weight and the dimensions of grief are different for everyone, the colour of grief is common to us all. 'I know,' he said, because he was human, and therefore, in a way, he did.

Terminado el entierro, por fin podría llorar. Pero no pude. Mi lágrimas, contenidas durante demasiado tiempo, se habían secado. Tendrían que quedarse dentro para siempre.

Tears can be good. They can cleanse us form our misery.

Lack of respect could make you angry. Lack of trust could get you killed.

Emotional instability for whatever reason can infect the workplace and lower productivity as surely as malfunctioning equipment.

It's difficult to say just where a marriage goes wrong, because the accepted reason often isn't the real one.

I never learned hate at home or shame. I had to go to school for that.

How can the intensity of this shame be understood by those who have never experienced it? How can they understand the strength of the motivations produced by the desire to escape from it?

J'imagine que l'une des raisons pour lesquelles les gens s'accrochent de manière si tenace à leurs haines, c'est qu'ils sentent bien que, une fois la haine disparue, ils se retrouveront confrontés à la douleur1. »