Quotes About Emotion

Love is the most dangerous thing in the world.

The decadent artist markets other people's pain

As much as he needed the sweet surcease to be had in her body, he yearned to know her mind, to seek deep within it and sense a welcome for him there. He wanted to share her thoughts, her dreams, her secrets. He wanted her to come to him with desire, to reach inside him and discover how open he was to her.

Kiss me, Joe. I won't shatter… Seriously, Joe, you can touch me without breaking me. In fact, you might even put me a little bit back together.

I don't know, Laurel," said David, and I loved how he said my name, like he enjoyed it.

This is what I discovered in all those museums in Europe when you really connect with a work of art, it doesn't matter that a million people have already stood where you're standing. The instant it means something to you, it's yours.

En el instante en el que comienza a significar algo para ti, te pertenece.

Hay una sonrisa otra vez, junto con los ojos en llamas. Esa chica me mata poco a poco...

The smell of his sweat came out of my pores.

Medan Luna och jag långsamt gick tillbaka till cellen torkade den manliga våta saliven på min kind. Jag kunde känna fläcken i ansiktet i flera timmar efteråt, som om hans kyss hade lämnat ett märke på mig. Att få en kyss av en man i ett kvinnofängelse är en gåva som slår alla födelsedagspresenter och julklappar. Det är bättre än en rosen bukett. Det är bättre än en varm dusch

He placed her palm over his heart and held it there above the rhythmic drum beat. "That's you," he told her as he kissed her forehead. "That's you.

He sighed and smiled and touched my nose. 'Words! You funny thing! Words! Verbigation! You know you will spoil everything if you have to verbalize about it. Words never work properly. Life is difficult, subtle, complex. Life, as Lawrence might say, is a 'winged gift'. Words are always inadequate to express the complexity of a situation.

For the first time, I saw what was in his heart, and I wondered if he might ever want to look deep enough to see mine.

Words fail me sometimes. I have read most every word in the Webster's International Dictionary of the English Language, but I still have trouble making them come when I want them to. Right now I want a word that describes the feeling you get – a cold sick feeling deep down inside – when you know something is happening that will change you, and you don't want it to, but you can't stop it. And you know you will never be the same again.

Happiness was useless to me. It was heartache that filled my purse. What happy man has need of Shakespeare?

I play until my fingertips are raw. Until I rip a nail and bleed on the strings. Until my hands hurt so bad I forget my heart does.

For I have seen it and I have felt it and it is love, not death, that undoes us.

I need a name for this ink ... A name for the feeling you get when you see someone again. After many years. Someone lost to you. Or so you thought. And you remember them a certain way. In your mind, they never age. But then suddenly, there they are. Older. Changed by time. Different, but exactly the same.

The guitar's still around me. I slip it off and put it down. I want to feel him. To feel his breath on my neck. The warmth of his skin. To feel something other than sadness. Hold me, I tell him silently. Hold me here. To this place. This life. Make me want you. Want this. Want something. Please

Dead man, you are dead wrong. The world goes on, stupid and brutal, but I do not. Can't you see? I do not.

Call a girl pretty once, and all she wants, forevermore, is to hear it again.

Yeah. Sure. My brother's dead. My mother's insane. Hey, let's have a crepe.

He pressed himself into me and kissed my neck, and it was as if everything strong and solid inside me, heart and bones and muscle and gut, softened and melted from the heat of him.

The King walks. He nods. His glance is like God's touch - under it all things spring to life. A wave of his hand and a hundred musicians tear into the Handel, making a sound you've never heard before, and never will again. A sound that goes through you, through flesh and bone, and reorders the very beat of your heart.