Quotes About Emotion

The Wedding Guest here beat his breast,For he heard the loud bassoon.

The man's desire is for the woman; but the woman's desire is rarely other than for the desire of the man.

Each turned his face with a ghastly pang,And cursed me with his eye.

No Voice; but oh! the silence sank like music on my heart.

Swans sing before they die -- t'were no bad thing did certain persons die before they sing.

Poetry: the best words in the best order.

Since then, at an uncertain hour, That agony returns: And till my ghastly tale is told, This heart within me burns.

What comes from the heart goes to the heart

Become a master of love, it is the most powerful emotion, and, what is life without it?

Please notice when you are happy, sometimes it catches you by surprise.

You're never really alive until you skip a heartbeat, and you don't really skip a heartbeat until you see someone with a smile that lights up the whole room.

You're never really alive until you skip a heart-beat, and you don't really skip a heart-beat until you see someone whose smile lights up the whole room.

Your attitude determines how you experience the world.

I love passion perhaps more than anything. I think life is nothing without it and we all strive to feel it every day for those we love and for what we do, and even if it's just for sausages it is a fine thing.

Love is the only shocking act left on the face of the earth.

Put your hands on me. Pretend this means something - Lee Coburn

He also knew that whenever he recalled her kissing his cheek with such unqualified trust and acceptance, it was going to ache just a little in the vicinity of his heart. It ached now.

Coburn)"Honor." Gasping, she lowered her arm from over her eyes and looked into his face. "Put your hands on me. Pretend this means something." With a whimper, she wrapped her arms around him and clutched his back, then slid her hands down over his ass and drew him even deeper into her. He groaned, buried his face in the hollow of her neck, and rocked his body against hers. An orgasm burst through her at the same time he came. She pretended nothing.

He calls me Josephine. He says I'm an angel, a saint, his good lucky star. I know I'm no angel, but in truth I have begun to like this Josephine he sees. She is intelligent; she amuses; she is pleasing. She is grace and charm and heart. Unlike Rose; scared, haunted and needy. Unlike Rose with her sad life.

face a bright red. Every- one else

Well, Earwig, there's not much about love that does make sense.

We're in that place called "bittersweet." That place, I reasoned when I was a girl, that if you could find it on a map, would be the mountain that sits between happy and sad. The place where you can almost feel God's hand on your head and just know, deep down inside, that there was a good reason for every single thing that happened.

Few things are as painful as the unfulfilled desire to be near to another you love.

I am what you see. A woman. Flawed. Imperfect. You can't label me. I'm not any one thing. I'm many things and not all of them are good. The only certainty is that I love you.