Quotes About Emotion

Voice is not just the sound that comes from your throat, but the feelings that come from your words.

I play until my fingers are blue and stiff from the cold, and then I keep on playing. Until I'm lost in the music. Until I am the music--notes and chords, the melody and harmony. It hurts, but it's okay because when I'm the music, I'm not me. Not sad. Not afraid. Not desperate. Not guilty.

What happened was, I told you I loved you.

Love isn't something you have to deserve.

And you told me the biggest lie of all. You told me you loved me," It was my turn to wince like he'd slapped me. "I don't remember saying that" "You would if it had been true. You would feel something

Yeah, I understood that last night at the wreck. Nothing says I love you like a dead body.

Art is the most effective form of communication.

He kissed the corner of my mouth, kissed my cheek, and growled in my ear, "Fireworks or what?

I saw myself exactly as he saw me. And that made me angry.

When every other facet of my life was a mess, music stayed true as math.

He fumbled with something in his breeches. She had thought the past few minutes the most intense of her life, but they were nothing compared with the alarm and ashamed delight now rushing through her veins - until she realized he was only bringing out his pocket watch.

Oh wait, I already fell.' He touched the tip of my nose with his finger. 'For you

He loves her so much that he can't even see her.

Taking his hand I said "Fank woo." "Hm " he laughed with his mouth closed.

Hunter deepened it.

Was it good to treasure the memory of a few perfect hours together? Or would I have been better off never meeting him?

I feel like I've been through a lot in the past couple of years, But I've kept pretty stable. That's because I channel that emotion into performance. I can handle emotion as long as it's only a song. It works for me, and I don't want to change it. I don't have anything left for writing.

An hour later, we were full of pizza and I love him a little more.

I continued to move my fingers across his skin exactly as I had before, but I needed to make a decision. I had reached for him, but I could back out of it by trailing my fingers down his arm and settling my hand in his, like I wanted us to be friends. I didn't want us to be friends. Ever so slowly, I slid my hand up his sleeve, across his shoulder, and up his neck to cradle his jaw, prickly with stubble.

Leaning over me with his chest bare, he pressed his wadded-up t-shirt to my ear. It was his Poser t-shirt that he wore to school at least twice a week,and he was willingly staunching my blood with it.He must be in love.

Nick was giving me the same look. And this time,instead of being taken aback or feeling squicky about it,my heart raced and my face grew hot. My body's response to the call of Nick.

I'm in love with you.

John watched me, dark eyes inscrutable. his shoulders rose as he inhaled through his nose. He was about to say something like I am so sorry or I had no idea or even You are a terrible person . In which case, I was going to lose it. There was a reason I did not talk about this. He said, "I feel sorry for the officers on that call.

The first time he'd called me Hoyden , years ago, I'd sneaked a peek in the dictionary to look up what it meant: a noisy girl. Not exactly flattering. Not exactly a lie, either. But I couldn't let him know I felt flattered that he'd taken the time to look up a word in the dictionary to insult me with. Because that would make me insane, desperate, and in unrequited love.