Quotes About Emotions

I whispered "I'm not," even though I was. Not scared of him, but scared of everything I felt. Sometimes it was too much. What I felt for him was bigger than the world, than anything.

I really wish I had enjoyed it more.

It's not all of a sudden," he said, his eyes locked on mine. "It's always.

There´s no way to protect yourself against heartbreak. That's just a part of life.

Lara: Because sometimes you just feel sad and you can't explain it. Kitty: PMS? Lara: No.It's not PMS. Just because a girl is sad, it doesn't mean it has anything to do with PMS.

When I got home, my mother was so mad. But I didn't regret it. I never regretted it, not for one second. How do you regret one of the best nights of your entire life? You don't. You remember every word, every look. Even when it hurts, you still remember.

It's kind of silly to feel so disappointed about something you only just realized you wanted, isn't it?

I'd never heard of them, but at that moment, it was the best song I'd ever heard. I went out and bought Ten and listened to it on repeat. When I listened to track five, "Black," it was like I was there, in that moment all over again. After the summer was over, when I got back home, I went to the music store and bought the sheet music and learned to play it on the piano. I thought one day I could accompany Conrad and we could be, like, a band.

He texts back: I love you. I'm starting to text back, I love you, too, when my phone rings. It's Peter's house number, and I answer it eagerly. "I love you, too," I say. There is surprised silence on the other end, then a little laugh to cover it up. "Hi, Lara Jean. This is Peter's mom.

Maybe that was how it was with all first loves. They own a little piece of your heart, always. Conrad at twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, even seventeen years old. For the rest of my life, I would think of him fondly, the way you do your first pet, the first car you drove. Firsts were important.

It's hard to concentrate when your feelings are hurt.

She wanted letters. Real letters written in his handwriting on actual paper that she could hold and keep and read whenever the mood struck her. They were proof, solid and tangible, that someone was thinking about her.

There are certain outfits you have that make you feel good every time you wear them, and then there are outfits where you wore them too many times in a row because you liked them so much, and now they just feel like garbage.

I went over and over everything that had ever happened between us. I couldn't keep doing it, going back and fourth, holding her close and then pushing her away. It wasn't right

I sank onto the deck. My heart was pounding a million trillion times a minute. I never felt more alive. Anger, sadness, joy. He made me feel it all. No one else had that kind of effect on me. No one.

I wonder, though…what would it be like? To be that close to a boy and have him see all of you, no holding back.

Maybe that was how it was with all first loves. They own a little piece of your heart, always. Conrad at twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, even seventeen years old.

I knew that now—that love wasn't something you could do away with, no matter how hard you tried.

He sighs a defeated kind of sigh that hurts my heart. "Goddamn it, Kavinsky." "I'm sorry. I like you, too, John, I really do. I wish . . . I wish we got to go to that eighth grade formal." And then John Ambrose McClaren says one last thing, a thing that makes my heart swell. "I don't think it was our time then. I guess it isn't now, either." John looks over at me, his gaze steady. "But one day maybe it will be.

I tried to communicate happiness in that word, but I don't know if it came out that way. All I was feeling was despair. And envy. Envy so thick and so black I felt like I was choking on it.

Necesito que sepas que pase lo que pase, ha valido la pena para mí. Estar junto a ti, amarte. Siempre valió la pena.

I like to save things. Not important things like whales or people or the environment. Silly things. Porcelain bells, the kind you get at souvenir shops. Cookie cutters you'll never use, because who needs a cookie in the shape of a foot? Ribbons for my hair. Love letters. Of all the things I save, I guess you could say my love letters are my most prized possession.

I've fallen for the one person I shouldn't have. For the boy who broke Mary's heart. For Rennie's one true love. For Alex's best friend. It has to end here. Now.

Is this how people lose touch? I didn't think that could happen with sisters. Maybe with other people, but never us.