Quotes About Emotions

Once upon a time the sun hadn't risen without her thinking about Nick's smile, and the wind hadn't blown without it whispering his name.

Still staring at the woman in the mirror, I hung up the phone. She looked as if she was going to cry. I felt bad for her, that woman with the dark hair, the one who only ever wore black and white. The one who might have been pretty if she'd only take care of herself, if only she weren't smarter, if only she didn't earn more money. I felt sorry for her but envied her, too, because she, at least, could cry and I could not.

I just said it was romantic. Some people like that." Nick sat, too. "Like you?" She lifted her chin. "Maybe I do." Nick's laugh for once didn't urge her to join him. "Well then, you're fucking the wrong guy.

I know I shouldn't feel guilty for being angry sometimes, or bitter" "Knowing something is beans.

Because my life's been so much richer for having had her in it, you see. And I know I'll see her again. I believe I will. I wouldn't trade one minute of what we had together even if it meant I'd never have to feel this way.

And I did," Alex said. "I let her go. Because I did love her, and I did want her to be happy." Hart, Megan (2015-03-01). Vanilla (Kindle Location 4400). MIRA. Kindle Edition.

Whatever task you're set, find some way to love it. Sunny wondered if Josiah's words applied to standing with a face of stone so the person in front of her wouldn't know how much she wanted to scream.

There is nothing crueler than the person who doesn't want you enough to keep you, but who doesn't love you enough to let you go.

I love you," she said, a little louder. A little stronger. She waited another handful of seconds before saying, "Now would be the time for you to say something, Elliott." "I don't want to see you again." Simone drew in a long, sobbing breath that hurt her in every single inch, but managed to find the voice to answer him. "That's not what I was hoping to hear.

Peace, hands and mouth smeared with chocolate pudding, blinks and says nothing. Happy frowns. Bliss, firmly ensconced on Liesel's hip, babbles something so cute and precious it would be nice to take a second to appreciate it, but Liesel is caught between her genuine and somewhat frightening fury and her shame at realizing that she's turned into everything she swore she'd never be.

Sometimes love does not have the most honorable beginnings, and the endings, the endings will break you in half. It's everything in between we live for. —Ann Patchett, from the essay The Sense of an Ending

I didn't emerge from the cocoon of my past to become an uninhibited, emotionally healthy butterfly. Nothing is ever that easy. Sometimes grief is a comfort we grant ourselves because it's less terrifying than trying for joy. Nobody wants to admit it. We'd all declare we want to be happy, if we could. So why, then, is pain the one thing we most often hold on to? Why are slights and griefs the memories on which we choose to dwell? Is it because joy doesn't last but grief does?

I loved Anne, and I could tell you I loved her like I never loved any other woman, but all that means is that everyone you love, you love differently. More, less, sane or not, every time you fall in love it's never the same. What I can say is that I fell for her, hard, Hart, Megan (2015-03-01). Vanilla (Kindle Locations 4342-4343). MIRA. Kindle Edition.

I love you," I told him. "And all of this, our life, is everything I wished to have but wasn't sure I could keep. I never felt like that with Alex, James. I always knew that what we shared wouldn't last. He never belonged to me. Not the way you do.

I knew I'd sounded bitter, but I didn't bend even when guilt threatened to throttle me with its bony fingers. "I hope it was worth it, Mom.

People are complicated, and they hurt each other. Effie Linton had known this for a long time, just as she knew that sometimes those wounds were inflicted deliberately, over and over, and not with fists or weapons. Sometimes, they did it with love.

You know what people do when they have to face something uncomfortable? They blame the thing that makes them feel bad, even if it's not that thing's fault.

Elliott took a long, deep breath. "Look. We seem to have had a misunderstanding.…" "Really?" Eyes snapping fire, Simone faced him. "Really. A misunderstanding. What part of 'I don't want to see you again, and I don't want you to come to my office' did I misunderstand? Because it seemed pretty fucking crystal to me." He winced. "No. That part was right.

So what, then? You're a ghost? Because that's how it feels to me sometimes, Effie. You're a fucking ghost, and all you do is haunt me.

More smiling. Fierce. I was getting a headache. I smiled.

I want to tell you that you'll know love when it hits you, and it will all be great and you'll find that one person who makes your heart sing, the end, happily ever after. I want to do that for you, I really do. But I'm just not that person. I'm sorry.

The circular conversation wasn't new. Instead of feeling annoyed, I felt only sad. This man, for better or worse, was my father.

I didn't want to love him, but I didn't want him not to love me.

Sometimes love takes you by the hand and leads you to run through fields of flowers while butterflies weave you a dress out of rainbows. Other times, love takes you by the throat and chokes you until all you see is the bright, sharp trail of shooting stars right before everything turns to black. The problem is, you can never tell in advance which way the story ends, not until you're too far into it, and you have no choice but to keep turning the pages.