Quotes About Emotions

WE'RE ALL AMATEURS WHEN IT COMES TO LOVE and relationships. I

What if we are designed as sensitive antennas, receptors to receive love, a longing we often mistake as a need to be impressive? What if some of the most successful people in the world got that way because their success was fueled by a misappropriated need for love?

I turned out the light and lay in my bed and thought about the girls I had dated, the fear I have of getting married, and the incredible selfishness from which I navigate my existence.

bad feelings to you personally or the GPU as an institution....

This is what I imagined as I watched my kite, my beautiful kite, with its heart, its star and crayon, its note and flowers glowing from the light of the sun behind it. I felt love and grief and joy and all the emotions in between, letting my weathered broken heart knit itself back together again as I said goodbye to my mother. Our imaginations are such gifts, she used to say. So I thanked her for mine.

I get it," he said. "I was supposed to give you your space. I didn't want to. So...I compromised. Only, you frustrate the hell out of me, and I'm all done with being frustrated. This is what I wanted to do. Pretty much from the moment we stopped doing it. You?" She was still reeling, from the kiss, and the declaration. "Me, yes. Uh, too. Me, too." "Good." Then he kissed her again.**

I guess it's about trust. Trusting what you feel. Trusting the person who inspired those feelings with the weight of them and all they could mean.

Don't you have any desire for vengeance? he asked before he remembered that she wasn't Italian.

We work in a profession that has consequences for the heart

It's convenient for us to think that the nasty emotions, hate and anger, can adhere to the lower orders, as if they owned them by right. So that leaves us, not surprisingly, to lay claim to love and joy and all those highsouled things.' He'd tried to protest, but she'd cut him short with a gesture. 'They love, the stupid and the dull and the crude, quite as strongly as we do. They just can't dress their emotions up in pretty words the way we do.

It would be nice if we could choose the people we love, but love chooses them.

Again, she put her face in her hands and wiped away the years, then let them return and looked at him.

It's more important to understand people than to forgive them.

He heard footsteps coming from the kitchen and turned to see his wife approaching. In that instant he wanted to take some sort of emotional photograph so that he could, sometime in the future when things were different, pull it out of his memory and look at it and say, 'I've lived a happy life'.

when children loved you, you knew everything, and when they were angry with you, you knew nothing?

He looked at his wedding ring, twirled it around once or twice with his thumb. What pleasure it gave him to touch it, as though it were some sort of cult object, invested with magic powers, always near at hand, like a friendly spirit.

Why was it that the words with which we confronted death always sounded so inadequate, so blatantly false?

Because you are not mad, or wild, or grieving! You are not roaring out to choke her with your own bare hands! Which means your soul is not too mixed up with hers. And that is good. Here is my experience. Stay away from the ones you love too much. Those are the ones who will kill you. What you want to live and be happy in the world is a woman who has her own life and lets you have yours.

Love doesn't conquer everything. And whoever thinks it does is a fool.

All those layers of silence upon silence.

I suppose the shock of recognition is one of the nastiest shocks of all.

Mais, vrai, J'ai trop pleure! Les aubes sont navrantes. What a sad and beautiful line that is. I'd always hoped that someday I'd be able to use it.

Here is my experience. Stay away from the ones you love too much. Those are the ones who will kill you. What you want to live and be happy in the world is a woman who has her own life and lets you have yours.

And I know I said earlier that he was perfect but he wasn't perfect, far from it; he could be silly and vain and remote and often cruel and still we loved him, in spite of, because.