Quotes About Emotions

Memories are always special. Sometimes We laugh by remembering the days we cried. And we cry by remembering the days we laughed! That's Life.

Sorrows cannot all be explained away in a life truly lived, grief and loss accumulate like possessions.

I'm sorry," I said again. I had nothing better to say. He did not love her; he never would.

In those days, my mother was in an especial ill humor. My father had begun to prefer his draughts to her, and her venom over it fell to me.

I am sure they will be very grateful." How would you know? I wanted to say. Often those men in most need hate most to be grateful, and will strike at you just to feel whole again.

I come to say that you may go, and I will help you..." Did he know how much those words cost me? I do not think he could. It is youth's gift not to feel its debts.

Have you no more memories?" I am made of memories. "Speak, then.

She wants you to be a god,' I told him. 'I know.' His face twisted with embarrassment, and in spite of itself my heart lightened. It was such a boyish response. And so human. Parents, everywhere.

I cannot make her leave, but I can hate her.

I was a grey space filled up with nothing but air. What could I say? One of us must grieve. I would not let it be him.

and I thought of how many nights I had lain awake in this room loving him in silence.

She must have heard such pleas a thousand times. That is one thing gods and mortals share. Where we are young, we think ourselves the first to have each feeling in the world.

would not be ground into the earth. You loathed them as I did. I think it is where our power comes from.

Overhead, my aunt sailed, but I did not trouble with her anymore. She liked to watch lovers, and I had not been one of those for a long time. Perhaps I had never been.

But Athena had no babe, and she never would. Her only love was reason. And that has never been the same as wisdom.

But a distaste rose in me now when I looked at him. One moment I would be laughing, and the next his jests turned sour in my throat.

I would not care," I said. The words scrabbled from my mouth. "Whatever you became. It would not matter to me. We would be together." "I know," he said quietly, but did not look at me.

Estoy hecho de recuerdos.

Onu sevseydim çoktan çekip gitmi? olurdu, oysa kaç?nmam tekrar tekrar geri dönmesine neden oluyordu.

A dozen times grief had scorched, but its fire had never burned through my skin.

There was grief, and so there always would be. But the gray fog was gone. I felt distant and very clear, like a hawk born upon the highest aether.

Il semble que punir les femmes soit le passe-temps favori des poètes. Comme s'il ne pouvait pas y avoir d'histoire à moins que nous ne rampions en pleurant.

There was an ache in my stomach, like hunger or despair.

The heavy knowledge: my father is dead. He would wake up with that thought for a long time, I knew.