Quotes About Emotions

I can already feel myself falling hard, something I've been down to do. All because she smiled at me.

I am being as honest with myself as possible, which is harder than it sounds. Who wouldn't rather write down pretty things and pretend they are the truth?' "My photos are a way of telling stories but without the pressure of all those words. I used to think of them as a way to capture everything that's good. Everything my life wasn't. but now I take pictures of all of it: the sad, the disturbing, the ugly.

We tread water, looking at each other, and suddenly there's not enough water in the world to clean away my dirt thoughts.

And I think: Love complicates everything. It makes you hurt and it makes you doubt and it makes you wish you didn't love. It makes you want to be watchful so that nothing bad or surprising ever happens, it makes you never want to love anyone again because they'll only hurt you too.

Be careful with that heart of yours

I remember her smile and her laugh when I was my best self and she looked at me like I could do no wrong and was whole. I remember how she looked at me the same way even when I wasn't. I remember her hand in mine and how that felt, as if something and someone belonged to me.

By the time I started eating- really eating- the loss was already so big it felt like I was carrying around the world. So carrying around the weight wasn't any heavier. It was trying to carry around both that got to be too much. Which is why sometimes you have to set some of it down. You can't carry all of it forever.

You can't do this to me. You were the one who lectured me about living. You were the one who said I had to get out and see what was right in front of me and make the most of it and not wish my time away and find my mountain because my mountain was waiting, and all that adds up to life. But then you leave. You can't just do that. Especially when you know what I went through losing Eleanor.

In that moment, I wish I could see it through his eyes. I wish he had glasses to give me.

Better to keep the unhappy, mad, bad, unpleasant words separate, where you can watch them and make sure they don't surprise you when you're not expecting them.

My own brain is to me the most unaccountable of machinery—always buzzing, humming, soaring roaring diving, and then buried in mud. And why? What's this passion for?

I try not feel jealous of the fact that he's been checking in with them but not me. After all, they're his family. I'm only me, the most important person in his life, for a while at least.

I take a good long look at her. I know life well enough to know you can't count on things staying around or standing still, no matter how much you want them to. You can't stop people from dying. You can't stop them from going away. You can't stop yourself from going away either. I know myself well enough to know that no one else can keep you awake or keep you from sleeping. That's all on me too. But man, I like this girl.

Because it always ends the same, right? You have a good time and they have a good time and everyone's having fun, and then once the chase is over, suddenly they start chasing after someone else like you never existed. Besides, I like being me too much.

He doesn't stop me as I walk away, and it's now and only now that I can think about what it is I'm feeling. Afraid, for one. Afraid. Afraid. Afraid. Unsettled. Mad at myself for starting to open up to this person I barely know. Mad at him for making me think I could open up. Stupid for believing I was different and he was different and this was different in any way.

I punch on the radio, but all I get is country music and static, and I don't know which is worse.

But not sorry I love you because I could never be sorry for that.

There was so much to grieve over, and so much to celebrate, she did not know which to do first, and essayed both together, like April. But her age was April, and the hopeful sunshine won.

I did see pictures of Mom posing nude in the backyard Reno left on the dresser one time and I had an intimate look at my mother.

Sometimes the fear was stronger than the anger. The plain was silent and in its darkness there was nothing to hold to.

Any time I'm happier with you drowned in the river, I belong in the Asylum.

Tis a big ocean that will soon be between us, Granny whispered, a tear rolling down her wrinkled cheek.

Let us be so taken up with the knowledge of God's goodness and the desire to fellowship with Him that our emotions are warmed and our outer man reflects great love. Although we must not seek emotional experiences for their own sake, we must not shun them merely because others misuse them or ignore God's instructions on worship.

Tears do not burn except in solitude.