Quotes About Emotion

The best and most beautiful things in this world cannot be seen or even heard, but must be felt with the heart.

Las mejores y más bellas cosas en el mundo no pueden verse, ni siquiera tocarse; deben sentirse con el corazón.

un día sin risa o un día sin amor era un día sin vida.

No reímos porque seamos felices. Somos felices porque reímos.»

Potential unexpressed turns to pain.

Since I was dead — or worse than dead, buried alive in a body that might as well be a coffin except it denied me the pleasure of suffocation — I figured I should be allowed to grieve.

According to Lacey I had the lyrics all wrong. I sang like it sounded to me, because those words sounded right: I loved you I'm not going back I killed you I'm not going back.

Org dreams are nothing but random neural firings, spurts of color and unprompted emotion. The story comes later, in that instant before waking, your muddled mind making sense of the chaos by stringing the randomness into a narrative.

Gloria screamed, but nothing came out. She could feel the scream in her throat, but it was clinging there, too scared to climb out of her mouth. Raymond might have screamed, too--he wasn't sure. His face was an exploding red ball--that was what it felt like. His heart was in the middle of his head. He couldn't see a thing.

That does it. It can't be true love. Mr. Willow has eyes like a sick kitten. You might love a sick kitten but you don't marry it, you keep it as a pet.

understanding they in their turn have played on them. Our soul sometimes takes its own revenge: <> What we see and hear when agitated by anger we do not see as it is:

The object we love seems to us more beautiful than it is:

If you don't own a dog, at least one, there is not necessarily anything wrong with you, but there may be something wrong with your life.

Inside every sadist is a masochist, cringing to taste his own medicine.

Saturday Night Fever was Gene Siskel's favorite movie, and he watched it at least seventeen times. We all have movies like that, titles that transcend ordinary categories of good and bad and penetrate straight to our hearts.

The heart, like the grape, is prone to delivering its harvest in the same moment that it appears to be crushed.

Can we stand to gaze into the heart of our loss, the preciousness of what we are losing, and not look away?

It is too easy to lay griefs on the end of summer.

Art moves us because it is beautiful, and it is beautiful in part because it means something. It can be meaningful without being beautiful; but to be beautiful it must be meaningful.

Civilization is always threatened from below, by patterns of belief and emotion that may once have been useful to our ancestors, but that are useful no longer.

It seems therefore that our best attempts at explaining the beauty of works of abstract art like music and architecture involve linking them by chains of metaphor to human action, life and emotion. If we are to understand the nature of artistic meaning, therefore, we must first understand the logic of figurative language.

All sentimentality is like this: it redirects emotion from the object to the subject, so as to create a fantasy of emotion without the real cost of feeling it.

Art, as we have known it, stands on the threshold of the transcendental. It points beyond this world of accidental and disconnected things to another realm, in which human life is endowed with an emotional logic that makes suffering noble and love worthwhile. Nobody who is alert to beauty, therefore, is without the concept of redemption – of a final transcendence of mortal disorder into a 'kingdom of ends.

The ennobling power of the imagination lies in this: that it re-orders the world, and re-orders our feelings in response to it. Fantasy, by contrast, is frequently degrading. For it begins from the premise of a given emotion, which it can neither improve nor criticise but only feed. It is a slave of the actual, and deals in forbidden goods. Where imagination offers glimpses of the sacred, fantasy offers sacrilege and profanation.