Quotes About Emotions

jealousy is painful not least because it sees the object of love, once sacred, as now desecrated. One cure for the pain of desecration is the move towards total profanation: in other words, to wipe out all vestiges of sanctity from the once worshipped object, to make it merely a thing of the world, and not just a thing in the world, something that is nothing over and above the substitutes that can at any time replace it.

Personal feelings don't make for good politics, legal decisions, or business deals.

I felt a strong desire to howl at the moon. It was such a howlable moon. But I restrained myself.

What is the true father of a man? The circumstances which brought together the two bodies which begat him? Was it the fact that, for some reason, at one moment in time, these two pleased one another beyond any possible alternatives? If so, why? Was it the simple hunger of the flesh, or was it curiosity, or the will? Or was it something else? Pity? Loneliness? The desire to dominate? What feeling, or what thought was father to the body in which I first came into consciousness?

Two versions of the same face looking into blank screens, two very different minds thinking of things unsaid. Sometimes love is in silence.

Each day recapitulates the history of the world, coming up out of darkness and cold into confused light and beginning warmth, consciousness blinking its eyes somewhere in midmorning, awakening thoughts a jumble of illogic and unattached emotion, and all speeding together toward the order of moontide, the slow poignant decline of dusk, the mystical vision of twilight, the end of entropy that is night once more.

I just noticed I am morbid and drunk and bitter. I don't need that.

He was staring at me as he advanced, no special expression on that face so like my own.

I am not normally claustrophobic and my life was not in imminent peril, but something about this shining prison annoyed me out of all proportion to the situation itself.

I am not unmindful of your thought processes as you speak. I feel the pain in your side, twin to my own. Yes, I know these things and more.

This girl either brings out the worst in me or shuts me down completely. Not true. I did it myself. Still....

Curious, he thought, how, if you knew a person long enough, he could elicit every kind of emotion from you, every possible reaction, envy, admiration, pity, irritation, fury, fondness, jealousy, love, disgust. But in the end all human beings became candidates for compassion, all of us, without exception...and if we could recognize this from the beginning, what a saving in pain and grief and misery.

He winced at her efforts to mollify him. Why didn't she say she was disgusted with his behaviour, with his long absence, his infrequent superficial letters? And if she did say it - would he defend himself? Would he give reasons, try to explain how meaningless every endeavour seemed to him? No. For then she would start crying again, he would tell her to stop being silly, she would ask for details, and he would tell her to mind her own business.

Memories were permanent. Sorrowful ones remained sad even with the passing of time, yet happy ones could never be recreated – not with the same joy. Remembering bred its own peculiar sorrow. It seemed so unfair: that time should render both sadness and happiness into a source of pain.

And then there were those who pretended their emotions were bigger and grander than anyone else's. A little annoyance they acted out like a gigantic rage; where a smile or chuckle would do, they laughed hysterically. Either way, it was dishonest.

You know, Maneck, the human face has limited space. My mother used to say, if you fill your face with laughing, there will be no room for crying.' 'What a nice saying,' he answered

He placed his hand over his heart. In here, there is limitless room - happiness, kindness, sorrow, anger, friendship - everything fits in here.

Haunted by the unhappiness that appeared like an ugly creature to live in their home

Where humans were concerned, the only emotion that made sense was wonder, at their ability to endure; and sorrow, for the hopelessness of it all.

the human face has limited space. My mother used to say, if you fill your face with laughing, there will be no room for crying.

Ishvar left the trunk he was packing on the verandah, and came in. He sat on the bed, putting his around him. You know, Maneck, the human face has limited space. My mother used to say, if you fill your face with laughing, there will be no room for crying.

Rohinton Mistry

The heart has its reasons which reason knows nothing of.'" "That's lovely," said Roxana. "Shakespeare?" "Pascal.

Sometimes, I love to fight with you… Because, we end up loving each other more.