Quotes About Emotions

bound to, and the ties to such families live in our hearts.

he was learning a lot about the kind of loneliness some people endured. He

The mind has a way of protecting the heart, of turning one's gaze in a certain direction, away from what it should focus on. One

Biscuit rage, I call it," Gretchen says. "It's that sudden rising up of irrational and completely outsize anger you can experience when you least expect it. You know what I mean: someone takes that last biscuit that you were just going to take, and you just want to bite their ear off. It's like road rage, only domestic.

no one is ever through with love. No one ever should be.

I go up to my room, close the door and sit on my bed, my hands clasped in my lap, and in my chest is a raggedy sadness. Outside, the sun hangs at the horizon, then drops. Day is done. (page 60)

I don't think Martha's so bad. I think I want her for a friend instead of you. When I look at her magazine, I feel soothed. When I talk to you, I feel like hanging myself.

sometimes grief made people eat a lot, grief and the realization that life really did come to an end.

It's all broken glass inside me, she once wrote in her journal, when she was in high school. I breathe, and I cut myself.

we) laughed. It was so good to laugh. I felt as though I too were reentering my legitimate self.

You know who does it right? You know who does loving right?" "Who?" "Nobody. I mean, people can't even Ã¢â'¬Â¦ If you get a cat because you just loooove cats, you're going to have plenty of days when you hate it because it's acting like a cat. Do you know what I'm saying?

I learned that the frustration and anger that comes up in these situations go both ways: you're frustrated and/or angry with your parents and they're frustrated and/or angry with you.

I am dying of a multitude of feelings

I don't know why I can't stop crying. Too much good news lately, I guess. Bad news I can handle. I expect bad news. I've dealt with bad news all my life. Good news makes me cry.

There were no formulas to account for the idiosyncratic yearnings of a human heart, no ways to extract from someone feelings that lived as matter-of-factly as blood and bones inside of him. In the end, Griffin thought, we are only who we are.

I would like to step into the body of a woman whose insides don't feel as though they have been spending time against the fine side of a cheese grater.

You know I love you, but you are one of the most exasperating people I have ever met.

don't know why I can't stop crying. Too much good news lately, I guess. Bad news I can handle. I expect bad news. I've dealt with bad news all my life. Good news makes me cry.

love came in without knocking and stayed without your permission. And when hard times came between you and the one you loved, you didn't run away.

I'd learned enough about grieving to know that other ways of feeling would come back soon enough. But it seemed to me that this was the way we all lived: full to the brim with gratitude and joy one day, wrecked on the rocks the next. Finding the balance between the two was the art and the salvation.

Every mother has the assurance that her baby will love her. But a baby has no assurance at all of being loved in return.

You always say that love and happiness are not for sale , that what is on your back and on your plate is second to what is in your heart.

she feels a strange mix of emotions: a kind of excitement mixed with a vague sadness. A longing for a specific kind of inclusion she both aspires to and fears. And, oddly, she feels a sense of failure, of shame. She knows its nonsensical, but there it is, big inside her, this sense of having screwed everything up, of having lost something she never had.

Elizabeth Berg