Quotes About Emotion

It was a passion neither of the mind nor of the heart, it was a force that comprehended them both, as if they were but the matter of love, its specific substance.

Then he smiled fondly, as if at a memory; it occurred to him that he was nearly sixty years old and that he ought to be beyond the force of such passion, of such love. But he was not beyond it, he knew, and would never be. Beneath the numbness, the indifference, the removal, it was there, intense and steady; it had always been there

And the consciousness of his inadequacy distressed him so greatly that the sense of it grew habitual, as much a part of him as the stoop of his shoulders.

his expression was always one of gentle hopelessness.

But he was not beyond it, he knew, and would never be. Beneath the numbness, the indifference, the removal, it was there, intense and steady; it had always been there. ...... It was a passion neither of the mind nor of the flesh; rather, it was a force that comprehend them both, as if they were but the matter of love, its specific substance. To a woman or to a poem, it said simply: Look! I am alive.

Mata algo en la gente, algo que no puede recobrarse

A tientas, confusos, se tocaron, se enredaron en un abrazo torpe y tenso y durante largo rato permanecieron sentados juntos sin moverse, como si cualquier movimiento pudiese dejar escapar de ellos la cosa extraña y terrible que agarraban con las manos.

Edith smiled at him with a curious mixture of fondness and contempt.

It's love, Mr. Stoner," Sloane said cheerfully. "You are in love. It's as simple as that.

La voce era secca e monocorde e gli usciva dalle labbra quasi immobili, senza espressione o intonazione, mentre le sue lunghe dita sottili si muovevano con grazia e decisione, come per restituire alle parole quella forma che la voce non riusciva a dargli.

the bitter attrition of feeling and care.

Suddenly Sloane seemed very distant, and the walls of the office receded. Stoner felt himself suspended in the wide air, and he heard his voice ask, "Are you sure?" "I'm sure," Sloane said softly. "How can you tell? How can you be sure?" "It's love, Mr. Stoner," Sloane said cheerfully. "You are in love. It's as simple as that.

Anger was days of courteous silence, and love was a word of courteous endearment.

When he held it in his hands his fingers seemed to come alive; they trembled so that he could scarcely open it. He turned the first few pages and saw the dedication: "To W.S.

Una guerra non solo uccide qualche migliaio, o qualche centinaio di migliaia di giovani. Uccide anche qualcosa dentro le persone, qualcosa che non si può più recuperare. E quando una persona attraversa molte guerre, ben presto si riduce come un bruto, come quella stessa creatura che noi - lei e io, e tutti quelli come noi - abbiamo sollevato dal fango.

Youth is ignorant, and its passion is abstract.

Nikolas was the conscious decision of his heart.

Hello Benjamin." Ben grinned privately. He always loved the way Nikolas greeted him. It seemed to say more than it actually did.

We are not shut away into individual cages from which we can reach out only with inadequate words.

You will have experienced, perhaps, that feeling of being relieved of a weight that you had not properly realized was there?

There is an inability to sustain the tragic mood, a phoenix quality of the mind. It may be helpful or harmful, it is just a part of the will to survive—yet, also, it has made it possible for us to engage in one weakening war after another. But it is a necessary part of our mechanism that we should be able to cry only for a time over even an ocean of spilt milk—the spectacular must soon become the commonplace if life is to be supportable.

She loved me, my daughter! Even knowing this, I was surprised. In truth, I was amazed.

Kids are just a needle in your heart.

I have no memory of my mother ever kissing me.