Quotes About Emotions

Qué es el corazón que, a veces, tanto duele? - El corazón es eso que tenemos dentro y que la emprende a patadas, o simula paz, o llena de frío o calor nuestra naturaleza. El corazón, Aranmanoth, es el gran depredador.

Dije que sí, aunque sin convicción. Qué cobarde me sentí. Y poco tiempo después, cuántas cosas aprendí a decir y a silenciar, aunque no coincidieran con mis sentimientos. En aquellos momentos aún no habia salido de mi timida inocencia.

Entonces, mi padre y yo nos mirábamos en silencio. El silencio siempre fue la conversación más apasionada entre mi padre y yo.

Si te marchas, haré un muñeco de cera, con tu rostro, con tu cuerpo, y le clavaré alfileres negros, todas las noches, todas las noches. [...] Nunca vivirás en paz. Nunca vivirás en paz. Llenaré de alfileres tu corazón...

Depression is not madness, it's just depression, the loser version, the low-energy response to bad stuff that happens in your life. When you're depressed, you think you're the only one to have ever tasted this kind of hurt. And that lonely self-regard brings with it its own painful pleasure.

At times anger will trigger harsh words. After a cooling period wisdom sets in; finally, the ability to speak from the heart with love and compassion.

Making the ungrateful grateful will bring tears to your eyes, tears of blood bleeding from the heart.

A journey indeed, in an emotional roller-coaster.

Ah, cruel 'tis to love, And cruel not to love, But cruelest of all To love and love in vain.

We write to taste life twice, in the moment and in retrospect.

I am only responsible for my own heart, you offered yours up for the smashing my darling. Only a fool would give out such a vital organ

I am lonely, yet not everybody will do. I don't know why, some people fill the gaps and others emphasize my loneliness. In reality those who satisfy me are those who simply allow me to live with my ''idea of them.

The role of a writer is not to say what we can all say, but what we are unable to say.

There were always in me, two women at least, one woman desperate and bewildered, who felt she was drowning and another who would leap into a scene, as upon a stage, conceal her true emotions because they were weaknesses, helplessness, despair, and present to the world only a smile, an eagerness, curiosity, enthusiasm, interest.

If you do not breathe through writing, if you do not cry out in writing, or sing in writing, then don't write, because our culture has no use for it.

I would define a book as a work of magic whence escape, all kinds of images to trouble the souls and change the hearts of men.

Unhappiness does make people look stupid

Human affairs inspire in noble hearts only two feelingsóadmiration or pity.

Lovers who love truly do not write down their happiness.

Our passions are ourselves.

It is not customary to love what one has

MeilÄ—s kaltÄ—s bus atleistos, nes tyroj meilÄ—j nÄ—ra nieko pikta. Bet jausmingoj meilÄ—j yra tiek pat neapykantos, egoizmo ir apmaudo, kiek ir meilÄ—s.

The beautiful things I have seen are still so vivid in my mind that I feel the task of writing them would be a useless fatigue. Why spoil my pleasure-trip by collecting notes? Lovers who love truly do not write down their happiness.

You may not be able to see the battle others are fighting, and you may believe they are confident and have never known sadness or fear, but believe me, they have, so be kind. Take