Quotes About Emotion

After writing a story I was always empty and both sad and happy, as though I had made love, and I was sure this was a very good story although I would not know truly how good until I read it over the next day.

God knows I had not wanted to fall in love with her. I had not wanted to fall in love with any one. But God knows I had and I lay on the bed in the room of the hospital in Milan and all sorts of things went through my head but I felt wonderful...

I loved you when I saw you today and I loved you always but I never saw you before.

Oh, darling, you will be good to me, won't you? Because we're going to have a strange life.

If my Valentine you won't be, I'll hang myself on your Christmas tree.

When I saw her I was in love with her. Everything turned over inside of me. She looked toward the door, saw there was no one, then she sat on the side of the bed and leaned over and kissed me.

Never fall in love? Always, said the count. I am always in love.

Keep right on lying to me. That's what I want you to do.

You'll ache. And you're going to love it. It will crush you. And you're still going to love all of it. Doesn't it sound lovely beyond belief?

I love you and I always will and I am sorry. What a useless word.

But did thee feel the earth move?

All cowardice comes from not truly loving, or at least, not loving well.

I love thee and thou art so lovely and so wonderful and so beautiful and it does such things to me to be with thee that I feel as though I wanted to die when I am loving thee.

Your blood coagulates beautifully.

It's all nonsense. It's only nonsense. I'm not afraid of the rain. I am not afraid of the rain. Oh, oh, God, I wish I wasn't.

I'd like to destroy you a few times in bed.

What you tell me about in the nights. That is not love. That is only passion and lust. When you love you wish to do things for. You wish to sacrifice for. You wish to serve.

He had loved too much, demanded too much, and he wore it all out.

It's funny, I said. It's very funny. And it's a lot of fun, too, to be in love. Do you think so? her eyes looked flat again. I don't mean fun that way. In a way it's an enjoyable feeling. No, she said. I think it's hell on earth.

Besides, I'm not jealous. I'm just so in love with you that there isn't anything else.

I'm trying in all my stories to get the feeling of the actual life across—not to just depict life—or criticize it—but to actually make it alive. So that when you have read something by me you actually experience the thing. You can't do this without putting in the bad and the ugly as well as what is beautiful. Because if it is all beautiful you can't believe in it. Things aren't that way.

I kissed her neck and shoulders. I felt faint with loving her so much.

She was sitting up now. My arm was around her and she was leaning back against me, and we were quite calm. She was looking into my eyes with that way she had of looking that made you wonder whether she really saw out of her own eyes. They would look on and on after every one else's eyes in the world would have stopped looking. She looked as though there were nothing on earth she would not look at like that, and really she was afraid of so many things

I've been wondering about Dostoyevsky. How can a man write so badly, so unbelievably badly, and make you feel so deeply?