Quotes About Emotion

The interval of two notes could divide your heart and the tug of words against rhythm could mend it: I'd stumbled on the means to say whatever was true in this life. I only wanted the skill to do it.

Bing Crosby and those fellows promised to love deeper than the ocean and higher than the stars for eternity. But who can sustain that kind of emotion for a month, or a year--much less forever? The song ends, the feeling fades, and they're onto the next pretty girl.

While men tend to think in abstractions—rules, principles, information, definitions—women tend to see the world in terms of relationships. Where men tend to define, distinguish, and divide, women often seek to bring unity and healing. Head and heart, reason and emotion, masculine and femininity—these are all complementary aspects of humanity. A tragedy of history is that, so often, the male voice has drowned out the female voice altogether.

Hate is the complement of fear and narcissists like being feared. It imbues them with an intoxicating sensation of omnipotence.

Cognitive insight (knowing something) is not like emotional insight (feeling something). It has no psychodynamic effects. It does not affect the narcissist's behavior patterns, or his interpersonal interactions - the products of well entrenched and rigid defense mechanisms.

My love for him was -- Tyranny.

Love destroys. Thought creates.

Then there is the ocean, mean and beautiful.

Some nights I want Jude so badly I imagine I am giving birth to him.

Somehow he held himself in check, willing away the tension strung throughout his form. Releasing a sigh, he kissed her knuckles, then rested his chin against her temple, inhaling the beguiling scent of lilies, aware of the silky little tendrils of hair that brushed his mouth. It brought a surprising peace to his soul.

This hurts more than anything else because I cannot stop it.

She says it's like a switch - a big red PANIC switch - gets flipped in my head and I can't turn it off. She says we're going to figure out how to turn it off.

I wish i had been there to hold his hand,brush the dark hair away from his cloudy blue eyes..whisper to him over and over that he was loved..

The things we did last summer I'll remember all winter long.

When I fall I'll weep for happiness.

There's something dripping in my head. A heart, a heart in my head.

Tears, that could be the tone, if they weren't so easy, the true tone and tenor at last.

I, of whom I know nothing, I know my eyes are open, because of the tears that pour from them unceasingly.

The tears stream down my cheeks from my unblinking eyes. What makes me weep so? From time to time. There is nothing saddening here. Perhaps it is liquefied brain.

Tears and laughter, they are so much Gaelic to me.

My anger subsides, I'd like to pee.

Nothing is funnier than unhappiness.

Feeling is an art and, like any other art, can be acquired by taking pains.

To live is like to love — all reason is against it, and all healthy instinct for it.