Quotes About Emotions

After all, you could use your outside voice and scream your head off, but sometimes it didn't seem as if the screaming was being heard.

There was no life Dennis burned to live except, it seemed, a life that wasn't depressed.

What are you asking me exactly?' Gudrun said. 'Why do I think the problems between the men and women of the world are the way they are today? You want to know whether the problems that you teenagers feel- will they follow you the rest of your lives? Will your hearts always be aching? Is that what you are asking me?' Goodman shifted in discomfort. 'Something like that,' he said. 'Yes,' said the counselor in a suddenly plangent voice. 'Always they will be acing.

Will your hearts always be aching? Is that what you are asking me?" Goodman shifted in discomfort. "Something like that," he said. "Yes," said the counselor in a suddenly plangent voice. "Always they will be aching. I wish I could tell you something else, but I wouldn't be telling the truth. My wise and gentle friends, this is the way it will be from now on." No one could say anything. "We are so, so fucked," Jules finally said,

After you slept with a woman, she took away with her a small hunk of you. It wasn't bad, as long as the relationship went on. It was something you didn't mind giving up, because it would always be close by. It was only when things ended that you really felt the loss.

It was too easy. Letting go also meant other things, things people never discussed. There were restrictions; everything always had to be cathartic these days.

Sadness, excitement, then sadness again; it all rose and fell like the sounds of skaters scuffing the floor of the rink. Hold tight! she thought, conveying this to both herself and Cory, thinking of them in bed together, and the joint effort couples had to make to be a couple, and stay a couple. If one let go, then that was it, both of them fell. Hold tight! she thought, imagining his body, and her own much smaller body against it.

Love was a fish factory—love, with all its murk and stink. You had to really love someone to live with him or her in close quarters.

Jules listened to this soliloquy in grim silence; she hardly knew what to say. Ash was describing an enclosed world that Jules too had been given a chance to enter, but hadn't wanted to. She still didn't want to, but the descriptions of the closeness and intensity of that world only increased her loneliness. "Go on," was all she said.

But it had seemed, when Cory broke up with Greer, that she became like a piece of knotted wire. Where were the qualities he had loved in her? He had taken on some of them himself. Because of course everyone was soft and hard. Skeleton and skin. But women claimed for themselves the province of softness, which men cast off. Maybe it was easier to say you liked it in a woman. But really, maybe you wished you had it yourself.

How are any of us in this room supposed to care about anything, when we're constantly being pulled back by unbearable thoughts and feelings?

There were moments when you idly glanced into the toilet or into a tissue after you'd used it, and suddenly remembered that this, this was what you carried around inside you all the time. This was what was always waiting to be let out.

Now she felt as if she were dully humming with an unpleasant, low-grade drunkenness.

If the point of drawing was to bring your work into the world so that other people could see it and sense what you'd meant to convey, then, no, Gil should not keep giving it a whirl: he should never draw anything again. No whirls. It should be illegal for Gil Wolf to possess charcoal sticks. But if the point was something else, expression or release, or a way to give private meaning to the loss of your son, your child, your boy, then yes, he should draw and draw.

But she also saw that the Boyds were people whose love came with added sourness—and maybe, as a result, their son had developed the capacity for unspeakable sadness, and who could blame him? Dennis and Jules had both come from families that hadn't really felt good. This they'd shared, and when they'd come together it was to make a home that did feel good, and even sometimes to say: Fuck you, disappointing families.

I must have no pride whatsoever that I put up with your coldness

Boys can't seem to help but leave marks; they scatter them as carelessly as pebbles in a pond.

Power and love didn't often live side by side. If one came in, the other might go.

You had to train your mind to remember: human being lying here at my feet, not someone to feel contempt toward.

they both knew, back then, that her envy had no power of its own; it was a sickly and spreading thing that enclosed her, and all she could do was make lightly sarcastic jokes in order to expel a little hostility and remain friends with Ash and Ethan.

No one else knew what went on inside you; no one else cared.

He was a little young to go crazy, but it happened to people.

You want to know whether the problems that you teenagers feel–will they follow you over the rest of your lives? Will your hearts always be aching?

It wasn't easy to understand how the love between two other people could diminish you. If those two people were still accessible to you, if they called you all the time, if they asked you to come into the city for the weekend as you'd always done, then why should you feel, suddenly, intensely lonely?