Quotes About Emotion

Non sopporto il pensiero che la mia vita stia scorrendo via così in fretta e che io in realtà non la viva.

all cowardice comes from not loving or not loving well, which is the same thing.

He smiled as only the truly shy can smile. It was not the easy grin of the confident, nor the quick slashing smile of the extremely durable and the wicked. It had no relation with the poised, intently used smile of the courtesan or the politician. It was the strange, rare smile which rises from the deep, dark pit, deeper than a well, deep as a mine, that is within them.

I knew that now, reading it in the oversensitized state of my mind after too much brandy, I would remember it somewhere, and afterward it would seem as though it had really happened to me.

I'm full of poetry now. Rot and poetry. Rotten poetry.

But when we sit together, close,´ said Bernard, ´we melt into each other with phrases.´

Ay, he said aloud. There is no translation for this word and perhaps it is just a noise such as a man might make, involuntarily, feeling the nail go through his hands and into the wood.

I'd be glad to kiss you if you don't mind.

And feel now. Thou hast no heart but mine.

She smiled and her face was heartbreaking.

Isn't love any fun? Marjorie said. No, Nick said.

She is kind and very beautiful. But she can be so cruel and it comes so suddenly

What are you made of? What you love. And steel added.

I want you so much I want to be you too.

There is no such word as love. Just as there is no word for sorry.

Damn my fish,' the boy said and he started to cry again.

Thank you very much," the girl said. "You know that another woman, or a woman in memory, is a terrible thing for a young girl to deal with when she is still without experience.

We made love and then made love again and then after we had made love once more, quiet and dark and unspeaking and unthinking and then like a shower of meteors on a cold night, we went to sleep.

Oh, darling," she said. "You will be good to me, won't you?" What the hell, I thought. I stroked her hair and patted her shoulder. She was crying. "You will, won't you?" She looked up at me. "Because we're going to have a strange life.

I loved to take her hair down and she sat on the bed and kept very still, except suddenly she would dip down to kiss me while I was doing it, and I would take out the pins and lay them on the sheet and it would be loose and I would watch her while she kept very still and then take out the last two pins and it would all come down and she would drop her head and we would both be inside of it, and it was the feeling of inside a tent or behind a falls.

He always thought of the sea as la mar which is what people call her in Spanish when they love her. Sometimes those who love her say bad things of her but they are always said as though she were a woman.

Grief doesn't split.

I put my arm around her and felt our hearts beating through our sweaters and I brought my right hand up and felt her neck smooth and the hair thick against it under my fingers that were shaking.

No. It's bad for me. Cole Porter wrote the words and the music. This knowledge that you're going mad for me.