Quotes About Emotion

Once I asked her why she didn't like nuts on her sundae, and she said she did like them, but I loved them. And she loved me.

are you planning on breaking my heart, covey?

If people knew you, they would love you." He sounds matter-of-fact. Josh, you break my heart. And you're a liar. Because you know me, you know me better than almost anybody, and you don't love me.

put my hand to his chest, over his heart. I can feel it beating. I let my hand fall away. His heart is mine, just mine. I believe it now. Mine to protect and care for, mine to break. So

This is the moment I realize I don't love him, that I haven't for a while. That maybe I never did. Because he's right there for the taking: I could kiss him again; I could make him mine. But I don't want him. I want someone else. It feels strange to have spent so much time wishing for something, for someone, and then one day, suddenly, to just stop.

You're in love with love

Peter will love Lara Jean with all his heart, always.

Love is about making brave choices every day.

I've never gotten a love letter before. But reading these notes like this, one after the other it feels like I have.

He says it with all the certainty only a teenage boy can have, and I have never loved him more than at this very moment.

All I knew was, I wanted her to look at me like that. After that day, I was done for. I liked her, as more than a friend. I maybe even loved her. There have been other girls. But they weren't her.

Sometimes it's like people are a million times more beautiful to you in your mind.

He kissed like he was drowning and I was air. It was passionate, and desperate, and like nothing I had ever experienced before. This

Peter grabs my hand mid-swat and says, "Wanna hear something funny?" "What?" "I think I started liking you.

Before he goes to the boys' side and I go to the girls' side, I kiss him one more time and I feel like I'm flying.

God, why do I have to be a person who yearns so much?

I can't believe he even has to ask. I would go anywhere. "Yes," I tell him. It feels like nothing else exists outside of that word, this moment. there's just us. Everything has happened this past summer, and every summer before it, has all led up to this. To now.

When you lose someone and it still hurts, that's when you know the love was real

Who could have done this to me?" I wail, pressing my hands to my cheeks. "I can't feel my face. Is my face still my face?

I like him in sweaters.

Cuando pierdes a alguien y todavía duele, ahí es cuando sabes que el amor fue real.

Sometimes words were so pitifully inadequate.

Ever since I got your letter … I haven't been able to stop thinking about you.

And then he's kissing me; his mouth is urgent against mine, like he's searching for some sort of reassurance, some kind of promise only I can give.