Quotes About Emotions

The look on his face made me want to die. It confirmed every mean and low thing I'd ever thought about myself, the stuff you hope and pray no one will ever know about you. Because if they knew, they would see the real you, and they would despise you.

I'm standing there in the open door and the thought flies in my head, so quick, so unexpected, I can't stop myself from thinking it: If you were mine, I would never have broken up with you, not in a million years.

It's the connection between two people that can't be severed, even when love turns to hate. You still have those old feelings for them; you can't ever completely shake them loose of you; you will always have tenderness in your heart for them.

Do you like Cam?" the girl asked me casually. I wondered how she knew him—I thought he'd been a nobody just like me. "I barely even know him," I told her, and her face relaxed. She was relieved. I recognized that look in her eyes—dreamy and hopeful. It must have been the way I looked when I used to talk about Conrad, used to try to think of ways to insert his name into conversation. It made me sad for her, for me.

He doesn't know it, but when Peter talks about Genevieve, he gets a certain softness in his face. It's tenderness mixed with impatience. And something else. Love. Peter can protest all he wants, but I know he still loves her.

That's how I'm feeling about everything these days: ugh. No.

Josh: But colored lights are whimsical. I mean they're nostalgic Lara Jean: Whimsical, Josh?

They're not love letters in the strictest sense of the word. My letters are for when I don't want to be in love anymore. They're for good-bye. Because after I write my letter, I'm no longer consumed by my all-consuming love.

It's probably because you were each other's firsts. That's why you can't let each other go. I've heard that's how it is with firsts, especially with guys.

When boy likes you, you say no thank you. You don't kick him on the ground.

Thinking these kinds of thoughts, feeling these kinds of feelings, it's more than disloyal. I know that. It's downright traitorous.

I like him in sweaters. I get the urge to cuddle and pet him like a stuffed animal.

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.

I know Josh and I will mend things, because we're neighbors, and that's how it goes with people you see a lot. They mend, almost on their own. But not so for Margot and Josh, with her so far away. If they don't talk now, the scar will only harden over time, it will calcify, and then they'll be like strangers who never loved each other, which is the saddest thought of all.

The old pull, the tide drawing me back in. I kept getting caught in this current—first love, I mean. First love kept making me come back to this, to him. He still took my breath away, just being near him. I had been lying to myself the night before, thinking I was free, thinking I had let him go. It didn't matter what he said or did, I'd never let him go. I

I thought I was over him. When I wrote my letter, when I said my goodbyes, I mean it, I swear I did. It wasn´t even that hard, not really.

And I feel like all the tension and bad feelings between us evaporate into nothingness.

Love can go away, or people can, without even meaning to. Nothing is guaranteed.

but I suppose in matters of the heart, there's no predicting how a person will or won't behave.

My best advice is to first write for yourself and stay in your story and just pour all of your good stuff and bad stuff into it. By 'stuff,' I mean all the experiences and pleasures and little hurts that make up a life. Because even (and especially) the really hard experiences are worth having, if you can channel those emotions into something beautiful.

Conrad and I were linked, we would always be linked. That wasn't something I could do away with. I knew that now- that love wasn't something you could erase, no matter how hard you tired.

En este momento me doy cuenta que no lo amo, que no lo he hecho por un tiempo. Que tal vez nunca lo hice. Porque él está ahí y es mío si lo quiero, lo podría besar otra vez, podría hacerlo mío. Pero no lo quiero. Quiero a alguien más. Se siente raro haber gastado tanto tiempo deseando algo, a alguien, y luego un día, de repente, solo se detiene.

Her mind can't go to the dark places mine does.

When I´m done, I put the letter in my diary instead of in my hat box. I have a feeling I´m not done-done yet, that there´s still more I need to say, I just haven´t thought of it yet.