Quotes About Emotions

There are words and there are feelings and somewhere between where the two meet is the truth

I hear the crazy. She sounds crazy. Maybe that's what happens when the bottom falls out, you lose the ability to modulate—to make your words make sense to the rest of the world.

I'd want to remember how I had felt sitting here—to take it with me, this sense of relief I knew we were both feeling, the quietly growing momentum that eventually I'd understand comes from letting go of the things you were holding on too tightly to in the first place.

But I'm left sitting here, without him, anyway. Doesn't that make me as ridiculous as my mother is? Doesn't it make me the same as her? Both of us putting our faith in someone else above everything else—calling it love. What good is love, if this is where it leads you?

This wasn't because he liked me, I was sure. It had more to do with him banking on what we of wedding age had all become witnesses to—how during these wedding weekends, single women, feeling a little lonely, maybe, or just feeling a little too far from being the bride, found themselves loosening their own rules, opting to be more flexible, more quickly.

There are parts I wish didn't exist, parts I can't look away from now. In one way or another, this is the deal we all sign when we love someone. For better or worse. It's the deal we have to sign again and again to keep that love. We don't turn away from the parts of someone we don't want to see. However quickly or long it takes to see them. We accept them if we are strong enough. Or we accept them enough to not let the bad parts become the entire story.

He never understood that I wasn't scared of some one leaving me. I was scared that the wrong person would stay.

Gwyn looks up at her daughter, makes her meet her eyes. "What I think is that there is no good way or bad way. And the sooner we let go of expectations about how things are supposed to go, the happier we get to be.

When the world goes quiet again, it will take everything I am not to allow the grief of his loss to level me.

É terrível saber tudo sobre alguém quando já não queremos saber nada sobre ela há muito tempo.

She has learned, over time, that the way someone laughs often mirrors who they are. How they are.

another small reminder how lucky I was to love him.

You think if you don't talk about it, you can just pretend everything is all right? Everything is not all right. Not with us, not with your parents, not with anything today. And if you let yourself go anywhere real with it, you have to acknowledge it.

Maybe we are all fools, one way or another, when it comes to seeing the totality of the people who love us- the people we try to love.

That's the terrible thing about a tragedy. It isn't with you every minute. You forget it, and then you remember it again. And you see it with a stark quality: This is what is required of you now, just to get along.

the terrible thing about a tragedy. It isn't with you every minute. You forget it, and then you remember it again. And you see it with a stark quality: This is what is required of you now, just to get along.

The way you say hello. The way you say goodbye.

This is the terrible thing about a tragedy. It isn't with you every minute. You forget it, and then you remember it again.

Mother-in-laws are the worst. You know, they don't like you, they make you feel bad about yourself, they have a divorce party the day you meet them and you have to face the fact that they are crazy. Plus, if you aren't very sure of yourself, you may start feeling like you are going that way too.

Then he stands up and starts to head out, the way he came. And it's then that he says the one thing that only he would say to me. "The could-have-been boys still love you," Owen says. He isn't looking at me when he says it, his voice low. The way you say hello. The way you say goodbye.

In the dream he was taking off his wedding ring. Look, Hannah, he said. Now you've lost me too.

If looks could kill, I might have killed him.

I'm happy for you and I'm happy, selfishly, for me. To get to see you so much . . . like yourself with someone.

But if you went with someone you loved, you'd often get more than that. You'd get to share it with them. You'd get to remember what they remembered too.