Quotes About Emotions

Thuvia of Ptarth was having difficulty in determining the exact status of the Prince of Helium in her heart. She

Why does The Sheik, my father, not love me, too?

Your scabby heart hath revealed its sores to all the world.

sentimentalists have words: love, loyalty, friendship, enmity, jealousy, hate, a thousand others; a waste of words – one word defines them all: self-interest.

She looked at him; she did not speak. He was there beside her, yet she was far away from him, alone with her outraged love and her ruined life. His feelings had nothing in them to make him silent.

The same was true of two personified emotions esteemed highest of all feelings in Homer and Hesiod: NEMESIS, usually translated as Righteous Anger, and AIDOS, a difficult word to translate, but in common use among the Greeks. It means reverence and the shame that holds men back from wrongdoing, but it also means the feeling a prosperous man should have in the presence of the unfortunate—not compassion, but a sense that the difference between him and those poor wretches is not deserved.

She was very near hating him now; yet the sound of his voice, the way the light fell on his thin, dark hair, the way he sat and moved and wore his clothes—she was conscious that even these trivial things were inwoven with her deepest life.

She had always thought of love as something confused and furtive, and he made it as bright and open as the summer air.

A smiling, bantering, humouring, watchful and incessant lie. A lie by day, a lie by night, a lie in every touch and every look; a lie in every caress and every quarrel; a lie in every word and in every silence.

He had to deal all at once with the packed regrets and stifled dreams of an inarticulate lifetime.

Every house is a mad-house at some time or another.

I discovered early that crying makes my nose red, and the knowledge has helped me through several painful episodes.

She had in truth no abstract propensity to malice: she did not dislike Lily because the latter was brilliant and predominant, but because she thought that Lily disliked her. It is less mortifying to believe one's self unpopular than insignificant, and vanity prefers to assume that indifference is a latent form of unfriendliness.

Was it love, she wondered, or a mere fortuitous combination of happy thoughts and sensations?

She had several times been in love with fortunes or careers, but only once with a man.

Lily had no real intimacy with nature but she had a passion for the appropriate and could be keenly sensitive to a scene which was the fitting background of her own sensations.

women never learn to dispense with the sentimental motive in their judgments of men.

How beautiful it was---and how she loved beauty! She had always felt that her sensibility in this direction made up for certain obtuseness of feeling of which she was less proud.

how much did pride count in the ebullition of passions in his breast?

Charity, till then, had been conscious only of a vague self-disgust and a frightening physical distress; now, of a sudden, there came to her the grave surprise of motherhood.

Something in truth lay dead between them—the love she had killed in him and could no longer call to life. But something lived between them also, and leaped up in her like an imperishable flame: it was the love his love had kindled, the passion of her soul for his.

She yearned to be admired, and feared to be insulted; and yet seemed tragically conscious that she was destined to miss both these extremes of sensation, or to enjoy them only at second hand in the experiences of her more privileged friends.

life makes ugly faces at us sometimes, I know.

bursting with the belated eloquence of the inarticulate...happens to me on a daily basis!