Quotes About Emotions

True confessions are written with tears only. But my tears would drown the world, as my inner fire would reduce it to ashes.

Did not one spend the first half of one's days in dreams of happiness and the second half in regrets and terrors?

Why then should money be blamed for all the dirt and crimes it causes? For is love less filthy - love which creates life?

Her anger was rekindled. 'You see, I keep it to myself, but, oh! it's more than I can stand. Don't say anything, sir; don't say anything , or I'll explode!' He said nothing, and she exploded all the same.

I know nothing sadder than a hunchback in love or an ugly woman full of romantic ideals.

such a strange look of repugnance and horror

II y avait en elle un manque d'équilibre entre le sang et les nerfs, une sorte de détraquement du cerveau et du cÅ"ur, qui la faisait vivre en dehors de la vie ordinaire.

vexation, yet filled with unconscious regret for the terrible unknown things that might have, but had not, happened (23)

a kind of breathing space in a Paris that was too small, too stuffy for the ambition in their breasts (65)

Pero es que no ve lo que estoy sufriendo?... Que estupidez, ¿verdad? ¡Sufro como un niño!

a boundless contempt for everything outside their art, for society, and above all, for politics. (64)

il la tuait de ses caresses, après l'avoir rouée de coups.

Her pride in self-abnegation had left her, and she accepted that her loved ones could find happiness without her help.

Oui, tout son mal venait de ce rire qu'il avait bu.

Yo la quiero... Hace mucho que lo sabe. No juegue el juego cruel de fingir que no entiende... y no tema nada.

It was but an illusion, but that dear little face, still so soft and silent, told them so many things which none other would have heard!

Dios mío! ¡Si es que la quiero! ¡Es que la quiero! ¿Por qué se complace en martilizarme de este modo?

a world where the same fatigue and the same fever played over every face.

Quand Hélène revint […] elle pensait que jamais ils ne s'étaient moins aimés que ce jour-là.

he was carried aloft, for the moment, on one of those great waves of hope from which he was usually plunged deep into the agonies familiar to all artists with a devouring passion for nature. (25)

Words failed him again; he began to stammer in his unsuccessful attempt to express the first vague stirrings of the future he could feel within himself. While he finished feverishly brushing in the black velvet jacket, there was a long silence. (37)

He caressed them, did them violence even, and shed tears of despair over his failures to make them either sufficiently beautiful or sufficiently alive. (42)

suffering unspeakable torture at the thought of leaving his picture as it was, disfigured by an ugly, gaping wound. (49)

Sé por instinto que su reserva procede de una aversión a las exhibiciones extravagantes de los sentimientos..., a las manifestaciones de mutua amabilidad. Amará y odiará con igual secreto y considerará una impertinencia ser, a su vez, amado u odiado.