Quotes About Emotion

And I was bitter. Bitterness and I were old friends by now, but at the moment bitterness was trying to go down my bra in public.

The pause makes you think the song will end. And then the song isn't really over, so you're relieved. But then the song does actually end, because every song ends, obviously, and THAT. TIME. THE. END. IS. FOR. REAL.

The sky was electric blue above the trees but the yard felt dark. Stephanie went to the edge of the lawn and sat her forehead on her knees. The grass and soil were still warm from the day. She wanted to cry but she couldn't. The feeling was too deep.

Vinegar: that's what fear smells like.

He looks tired, like someone walked on his skin and left footprints.

Mindy felt a jolt of attraction roughly akin to having someone seize her intestines and twist.

A smile is a door that is both open and closed.

What moved Ted, mashed some delicate glassware in his chest, was the quiet of their interaction, the absence of drama or tears as they gazed at each other, touching gently.

It only hurts at first," she said. "After a while you can't feel anything." Mr. Styles grinned as if her reply were a ball he'd taken physical pleasure in catching. "Words to live by," he said

He's rigged a tiny cassette player with a small set of foam earphones to listen to demo tapes and rough mixes. Occasionally he'll hand the device to Mindy, wanting her opinion, and each time, the experience of music pouring directly against her eardrums - hers alone - is a shock that makes her eyes well up; the privacy of it, the way it transforms her surroundings into a golden montage, as if she were looking back on this lark in Africa with Lou from some distant future.

And the feeling I had was not of wanting her so much as being surrounded by her, blundering inside her life without having moved.

This is it," I sob, clinging to Angel and Liz, their warm shoulders. I hear them crying, too, and think, It will be like this always. From now on, nothing can divide us.

He'd take danger over sorrow every time.

It's the weird and terrible way of this place that a little thing, a hand on a head, can matter so much.

Standing under the gray sky among so many women, Anna began to understand the collective grief: Lydia had been a last still point amid so much wrenching change.

I feel Angel warm beside me and think how I'll never love anyone this much, how without her I would disappear.

Then winter ended and spring came, and I thought, even if I don't believe there's a poem in anything anymore, maybe I'll write a story. A lot of people do that when they can't seem to figure out who or what they love. It might be an oversimplification, but they seem to write poetry when they do know.

Agnes felt her daughter's impatience that she go, and it made her want to cleave, as if holding Anna would somehow awaken in her daughter the need to be held. Agnes clasped her fiercely, trying through sheer force to open the folded part of Anna, so deeply recessed.

eyebrows have never inflicted a moment of pain on me.

He didn't sound afraid, but I smelled that he was. Vinegar: that's what fear smells like.

She's calm and happy now that Scotty loves her. I can't tell if she's actually real, or if she's stopped caring if she's real or not. Or is not caring what makes a person real?

Even smiling, there's no hope for Marty's face. But I'm worried he might think the same of me, so I don't smile back.

You will never know how much I understand you.

it was a restless, desperate wish for something to change. Anything. Even if the change brought a certain danger. He'd take danger over sorrow every time.