Quotes About Emotions

Everyone carries around his own monsters.

But thoughts don't care about truth and shit. They sit up in your mind and fuck with you whenever.

My God, he couldn't help thinking, how terrible it is to be that age, to have emotions so near the surface that the slightest turbulence causes them to boil over. That, very simply, was what adulthood must be all about -- acquiring the skill to bury things more deeply. Out of sight and, whenever possible, out of mind.

To his surprise, she leaned over and kissed him on the forehead, a kiss so full of affection that it dispelled the awkwardness, even as it caused Miles' heart to plummet, because all kisses are calibrated, and this one revealed the great chasm between affection and love.

I've always known that there's more going on inside me than finds its way into the world, but this is probably true of everyone. Who doesn't regret that he isn't more fully understood?

My dad once told me something when I was young and having boyfriend problems. He said all guys are guided by three things: their head, their heart and their dick. And those three things are always fighting with each other inside guys to be the one that makes the decisions. So, my question to you, young man, is which one guides you when you want to be with me?

Don't let men get too happy. It would kill me. (581 Ways To Kill Your Boss)

I did not know you would fade so soon, oh flower.

Precisely because she had tended and pitied, the desolation is hers as well.

You wanted happiness, I can't blame you for that, and maybe a mouth sounds idiotic when it blathers on about joy but tell me you love this, tell me you're not miserable.

Sometimes, at night, in bed, before I fall asleep, I think about a poem I might write, someday, about my heart, says the heart.

You are a fever I am learning to live with.

I wanted to hurt you but the victory is that I could not stomach it.

he knows you, and he's talking to you, but you're in pain and you cannot understand him.

Dear So-and-So, I'm sorry I couldn't come to your party. Dear So-and-So, I'm sorry I came to your party and seduced you and left you bruised and ruined, you poor sad thing.

You keep singing along to that song I hate. Stop singing.

And no one can ever figure out what you want, and you won't tell them, and you realize the person who loves you isn't the one you thought it would be, and you don't trust him to love you in a way you would enjoy.

a big band sound that makes you feel like everything's okay, a feeling that lasts for one song maybe, the parentheses all clicking shut behind you.

A stone on the path means the tea's not ready, a stone in the hand means somebody's angry, the stone inside you still hasn't hit bottom.

I couldn't make you love me and I'm tired of pulling your teeth.

Sometimes, at night, in bed, before I fall asleep, I think about a poem I might write, someday, about my heart, says the heart. — Richard Siken, from "The Language of the Birds," War of the Foxes (Copper Canyon Press, 2015)

Imagine this: You're pulling the car over. Somebody's waiting. You're going to die in your best friend's arms. And you play along because it's funny, because it's written down, you've memorized it, it's all you know. I say the phrases that keep it all going, and everybody plays along. Imagine: Someone's pulling a gun, and you're jumping into the middle of it. You didn't think you'd feel this way.

The marriage state, with or without the affection suitable to it, is the completest image of Heaven and Hell we are capable of receiving in this life.

The marriage state, with and without the affection suitable to it, is the completest image of Heaven and Hell we are capable of receiving in this life.