Quotes About Emotions

Did she think it was temporary? Or maybe that was the point of love: not to think.

We had loved people we really shouldn't have loved and then married other people in order to forget our impossible loves, or we had called out hello into the cauldron of the world and then run away before anyone could respond.

I didn't bathe him because I was too afraid he would slip out of my hands or his belly button would open. Then one night I woke at three A.M. certain he was rotting like a chicken carcass. Only as I lowered him into the sink did I realize this was a crazy time to wash a baby and I began to cry because he was so trusting—I could do anything and he would go along with it, the little fool.

I was still feeling the old loss, just in a new way.

I was actually writhing in heartache, as if I were a single muscle whose purpose was to mourn.

So this was what it was like not to be me.

He drank the cotton-candy milk from the day at the pier. The last batch was from the morning she left and this milk was full of plans I didn't know about. When he finished that bottle she was really gone, every last drop of her.

I cried in English, I cried in French, I cried in all the languages, because tears are the same all around the world. Esperanto.

I had forgotten about the baby. Until then she had been giving birth to birth—to contractions and noises and liquids. There was someone in there. We

Why do you think we are the only animal that kisses? She was near again. Because the area in front of our faces is our most intimate zone. She drew a breath. This is why humans are the only romantic animal!

Vincent was on a shared patio. I'll tell you about Vincent. He is an example of a New Man. You might have read the article about the New Men in the True Magazine last month. New Men are more in touch with their feelings than even women, and New Men cry. New Men want to have children, they long to give birth, so sometimes when they cry, it is because they can't do this; there is just nowhere for a baby to come out.

I ran a bath. Just before I stepped in the tub, I heard the front door close and froze in midstep; she was gone. Sometimes she did this. In the moments where other couples would fight or come together, she left me.

In truth, I had not yet learned how to hate anyone but my parents. I was actually just standing there in love. I was not even really standing; if she had walked away suddenly, I would have fallen.

I'm trying to be brave 'cause when I'm brave other people feel brave but I feel like my heart is caving in.

But Ed [the family counselor] wasn't fazed; in fact, he suggested the dynamic had served each of us well. Something in the way he said this gave me the feeling that the dynamic was moving on, perhaps down the block, where it would serve some other confused family. And we would be left dynamic-less, four people alone with all the wrong feelings for one another.

I was still happy to sit there beside him, but that is only because I have very, very low expectations of most people, and he had now become Most People.

What most people would do in my situation is go to their boyfriend's house. They would go there and cry and be handed tissues and cry some more and never stop to think that they should really be laughing and smiling joyfully because their boyfriend is an actual physical being on the same plane of reality as them.

C'était quelqu'un de complexe, avec de nombreuses strates d'émotions qui remontaient à la surface, certaines spirituelles, certaines torturées de manière plus séculière, et il brûlait d'amour pour moi.

Falling in love is awesome, but I'm never drawn to happy songs per se, so whenever you sit down to write a heartbreak song and you're happily in love, it's like, 'OK, now I have to go back to a sad place to get something good.'

I think you go through a period as a teenager of being quite cool and unaffected by things.

You can have a laugh in Los Angeles, or you can weep in Los Angeles, depending on your attitude towards it.

Toate mi s-au p?rut cu neputin?? de suportat, ca ÅŸi cînd ai vrea s? Å£ii mîna pe un fier înroÅŸit. Nici nu ÅŸtia c? exiÅŸti cînd ÅŸi le-a f?cut, iar faptul c? ai pierdut momente atît de preÅ£ioase din viaÅ£a ei c? a risipit atîta emoÅ£ie pentru altcineva decît pentru tine, chiar dac? pentru nimeni, este de neînÅ£eles, de netr?it.

?i ce masc? de tifon, ce m?nu?i chirurgicale te-ar putea proteja de infec?ia emanat? de amintire?

Perhaps all we want from reading is to return to that age when we could hold a book and cry, to that time between childhood and adolescence, the sweetest era of our lives.