Quotes About Depth

Then he says, "In a way, no one else has. No one.

It would be a lethal mistake to underestimate what she means to me.

The biggest problem with melancholy is that it is more detailed than the world.

Who are you, really? The question penetrated, echoed, demanded an answer. It nipped at me in ways I wasn't prepared for, pinched in places I didn't like. Was I really so entrenched in the world I'd been raised in, so set in my ways that I couldn't look beyond the surface of another person and see a human being? Was I that shallow?

It's important to live a complicated life.

love is not reasonable or measured. It undoes you. It's in the imperfections in each other, in ourselves, where we find our humanity. It's in our dents and scars where the deepest connections are made. Real love resides in the parts of me I think no one wants to see.

I think love is serious. It's like an invention: sometimes it lies deep down inside you, great and quiet--and at other times it racks you and keeps you from sleeping.

Every man's first declaration of love is bathos--the zenith of his passion connoting perhaps the nadir of his intelligence.

A pigs and pain, until you really get to know 'em. Then he's a paid with the soul.

Analyzing dreams is much like walking on water. There are a limited number of people who do it well.

He knew that there was no quick comfort for emotions like those. They were deeper and they did not need to be told. They were felt.

I need words that mean more than they mean, words not just with height and width, but depth and weight and, and other dimensions that I cannot even name.

A mon sens, dans ma façon de « voir », de « comprendre », l'image, la vision que propose ma photo, ne veut surtout rien « garder », seulement proposer un sentiment de découverte, d'approfondissement soudain, de perception de ce que j'appelle ouverture, de clarté qu'on pourrait dire intuitive.

The still pool of your mouth under a thicket of kisses.

There are truths so prosaic, so dense, so dull, that one can hardly state them without suggesting the idea of something subtler or more interesting beyond.

That which would not yield, nor could forget, Which, when it least appear'd to melt, Intensely thought, intensely felt: The deepest ice which ever froze Can only o'er the surface close; The living stream lies quick below, And flows--and cannot cease to flow.

I have so many other interests: Writing, acting, directing, real life, I need little pieces of it all to satisfy me. The thirst is deep and I am complicated.

It was the world of the abyss, supposedly as lifeless as the earth's first midnight.

a Shadow lives deep inside every one of us.

There was the deep blue sea of her eyes, and there was he, wanting to drown.

I remember saying that there was a difference between examining and dwelling, and if we're cut off from our feelings, just skating on the surface, we don't get peace or joy—we get deadness.

The price of loving so deeply is feeling so deeply—but it's also a gift, the gift of being alive. If we no longer feel, we should be grieving our own deaths.

The eminent Swiss psychiatrist Carl Jung said this: "People will do anything, no matter how absurd, to avoid facing their own souls." But he also said this: "Who looks inside, awakes.

How can there be an endpoint to love and loss? Do we even want there to be? The price of loving so deeply is feeling so deeply – but it's also a gift, the gift of being alive.