Quotes About Emotion

I want words that are still alive, that have a pulse. Hot words, people! Give me the bullet, not the casing — fire it right in my chest. I'll die gladly for some fresh language.

Her only thought was of getting away, as if she were carrying a live grenade from inside the house, so that when it exploded, it would destroy just herself.

Before I'd even said hello, Connor was telling me good-bye.

Question: Who do you go to first? The boy you love or the boy you love's dog?

He stood up and we hugged. This is what it was like: like all the parts of me that had been exposed, all my nerves and cells and synapses, were finally again connected. Click. Connor.

The events of his childhood had never left him. Instead the memory had grown watery, indistinct, like something he'd dreamed. Abused, molested: these were not terms he used, even to himself.

That the woman was beautiful and dear to him, that he'd told her things he'd never told a living soul: this would have been more than enough even without the dreamlike echo of another moment, equally potent. For it seemed to him, the whole day long, that both reels were rolling at once, his boyhood and manhood, the indelible past and achingly tangible present. The boy he'd been and the man he was;

His words stayed with her for years. Each night as she lay waiting for sleep, she tried to re-create the evening in her mind — the tone of his voice, his hand on her shoulder. Soon the memory was worn as an old photograph, the edges fuzzy from frequent handling; she worried that she'd gotten the words wrong, forgotten some nuance of his face or voice. Finally she wondered if she'd made the whole thing up.

I open my heart to her and lay it on the table.

Love: the impossible combination of being IN the deep end and being OFF the deep end.

Any man who has known a love bringing him such happiness--if even for a short time--that its loss steals his very will to live, is a man to be envied. Justin

I was feeling the height of bitchiness.

You know what?" His breath was warm against my cheek. There are a lot of stupid things to do, but I really want to do the stupidest thing possible." What's that?" I want to kiss you.

This, I thought, was true love. Someone who made you happy without saying a word.

Mr.Clayton? Didn't you see her ears? You mean ears turning bright red means you're in love? I don't know, he mumbles, and looks down, his ears are bright red.

We knew the world would not be the same. A few people laughed. A few people cried. Most people were silent.

I'm a hopeless romantic and passionate person when it comes to love.

Heads, I kiss you. Tails, you kiss me. And either way, it means something.

Grayson told me. "I wanted her to be you." "Don't say that," I whispered. He looked at me one last time. "There are so many things that I will never say.

Caring was dangerous. Caring hurt.

I'd tell you that you can't stay mad forever," Ivy commented, "but I'm pretty sure you'd take that as a challenge.

Well," a female voice said. "What have we here?" "Here," Bethany said, responding to the woman's rhetorical question, "we have a teenager. And she's pissed.

He gently traced the line of my jaw. "I won't let anyone hurt you ever again. You have my word." He thought he could protect me. He wanted to. He was touching me, and all I wanted was to let him. Let him protect me. Let him touch me.

You're a very pretty girl...Did you know? Once upon a time, I had a pretty, pretty boy.' She reached forward and touched my cheek with one manicured hand.