Quotes About Emotions

It's not the bad memories that tear a person apart. It's the good ones.

He was arrogant and awful and had spent the first week of our acquaintance dead set on making my life hell. He was still half in love with Emily Laughlin. But from the first moment I'd seen him, looking away had been nearly impossible. And at the end of the day, he'd chosen me. Over family. Over his mother.

Nothing hurts you unless you let it.

Pretending something doesn't matter doesn't make it matter less.

sometimes it feels good to smack the hell out of something.

I had to protect him. And me. So I took everything I felt for the pack. I saw the bond, and instead of closing myself off to it, I pulled. I pulled at it and I thrust it toward Chase.

You can't tell me I matter and then leave like I don't.

Casey was in the bed with Ali. And that was where I drew the line. Because eww.

For a few seconds, I thought I might actually cry. That was so unlike me, I wasn't sure how to respond. Bronwyn Alessia St. Vincent Clare didn't get sad. She got mad. Or better, she got even.

THAT FAXING CHIPHEAD CAN GO STRAIGHT TO ELF AND EAT A BAG OF DUCKS!!!

Xander smiled, and something about it made me want to cry. "Do you think it's okay," he said, sounding younger than I'd ever heard him, "that I loved playing those Saturday morning games? Loved growing up here? Loved the great and terrible Tobias Hawthorne?

I was supposed to have an edge. But sharp-edged girls had feelings, too.

Sometimes you have an idea of a person — about who they are, about what you'd be like together. But sometimes that's all that it is: an idea. And for so long, I have been afraid that I loved the idea of Emily more than I will ever be capable of loving anyone real." He looked at me like the act of soing so was painful and sweet. "It was never just the idea of you, Avery.

When you were a kid," he continued, his voice even and low, "Your mother taught you to observe people. She also taught you not to get attached.

Aching for them, I wondered who had made Skye so desperate to be the center of someone's world that she couldn't even love her own children, for fear they wouldn't love her back enough.

The coin landed. "Tails," I said. "I kiss you." I wrapped my arms around his neck. I pressed my lips to his. And this time, the joke was on me— because I wasn't playing. This wasn't nothing. This was the beginning—and I was ready to be bold.

When you're hurting, you hurt yourself.

What about what other people deserve?" I asked vehemently. "Did my mother deserve to die without you there? Did she deserve to spend my entire life in love with a ghost?" "Hannah deserved the world." "So why didn't you give it to her?" I asked. "Why was punishing yourself more important than what she wanted?

Because this was our game - yours and mine - before it was anyone else's. Because when you and I kiss, you feel it, the same way I do.

That was the first time I'd said that last bit out loud. Toby Hawthorne loved my mother. She loved him. It had been an epic, seaside kind of love. Literally. Just knowing that made me feel like I'd been lying to myself every time I'd pretended that I didn't have feelings, that things didn't have to be messy.

But this... us..." He swallowed. "It can't happen, Avery. I've seen the way Jameson looks at you.

Skye set her glass down. "Don't you dare rewrite history. What do you think it was like for me? Son after son—and every single one of you preferred my father.

But after reading even just a couple of my mom's postcards? It was getting harder to ignore Grayson's presence beside me, harder not to think about Jameson. My eyes stung, even though there was zero reason for me to be crying.

Libby's on-again, off-again boyfriend—who had a fondness for punching walls and extolling his own virtues for not punching Libby