Quotes About Sensitivity

slightest touch or movement brought on nausea

Indeed he seemed to her sometimes made differently from other people, born blind, deaf, and dumb, to the ordinary things, but to the extraordinary things, with an eye like an eagle's.

You and I cannot possibly know the hidden pain eating holes in individual lives, so if we want to be saviors, in partnership with the Lord, we will be kind to everyone, everywhere, all of the time.

But the close withdrew: the hand softened. It was over-- the moment.

Her only gift was knowing people almost by instinct, she thought, walking on. If you put her in a room with someone, up went her back like a cat's; or she purred.

she often felt she was nothing but a sponge sopped full of human emotions.

Little Mr. Bowley, who had rooms in the Albany and was sealed with wax over the deeper sources of life but could be unsealed suddenly, inappropriately, sentimentally, by this sort of thing––poor women waiting to see the Queen go past––poor women, nice little children, orphans, widows, the War––tut tut––actually had tears in his eyes.

Indeed he seemed to her sometimes made differently from other people, born blind, deaf and dumb to the ordinary things, but to the extraordinary things, with an eye like an eagle's. His understanding often astonished her. But did he notice the flowers? No. Did he notice the view? No.

To talk of 'prizing her open' as if she were an oyster, to use any but the finest and subtlest and most pliable tools upon her was impious and absurd.

Ä°nsan a??kken baÅŸkalar?n?n kay?ts?zl??? çok garibine gider.(s.40)

He's read nothing, thought nothing, felt nothing, he could hear her saying in that empathic voice which carried so much farther than she knew.

she] might have been a shell, and his words water rubbing against her ears, as water rubs a shell on the edge of a rock.

They had always this queer power of communicating without words. She

Indeed he seemed to her sometimes made differently from other people, born blind, deaf, and dumb, to the ordinary things, but to the extraordinary things, with an eye like an eagle's. His understanding often astonished her. But did he notice the flowers? No. Did he notice the view? No. Did he even notice his own daughter's beauty, or whether there was pudding on his plate or roast beef? He would sit at table with them like a person in a dream.

Soy el tallo. Mis raíces descienden hasta las profundidades del mundo, a través de tierras secas, de roca, a través de húmedas tierras, de vetas de plomo y de plata. Soy todo fibra. Todos los temblores me estremecen, y el peso de la tierra oprime mis costillares. Aquì, mis ojos son hojas verdes que no ven.

As a plant on the river-bed feels the shock of a passing oar and shivers: so she rocked: so she shivered.

Her look, passing through all that time and that emotion, reached him doubtfully; settled on him tearfully; and rose and fluttered away, as a bird touches a branch and rises and flutters away.

Don't touch me; I'll die if you touch me.

hot, opalescent, thick tears that poets and lovers shed)...

Emphatically, no killers are we. Poets never kill.

My heart seemed everywhere at once.

The softness and fragility of baby animals caused us the same intense pain. She wanted to be a nurse in some famished Asiatic country; I wanted to be a famous spy.

there were times when I knew how you felt, and it was hell to know it...

Tengo la habilidad de verter torrentes de lágrimas evocando tempestades pasadas