Quotes About Emotion

I want to live like music sounds.- Ruth

He then kissed her. It was a very long time before he let her go. When he did, she looked up at him, hurt and bewilderment on her face. "Why did you stop?" asked Tessa. "I thought you might want to breathe," said Guy carefully. "Breathe?" said Tessa, shocked. "I don't need to breathe when I'm with you.

To show too much joy in a place such as this would be unseemly but, as he padded toward her, his tail was extended in a manner which would make wagging possible should all go as expected.

Would it ever, ever leave? I had become used to the ache now; it was with me all the time, and never seemed to lessen. Time was no healer, I decided, but it was a great accommodator.

When we make love, it's going to be making love. I want more than just your amazing body, Autumn. I want all of you." She felt him swallow against the top of her head. "I don't know who broke your heart, but I'm going to earn your trust. And we will make love.

It was hard to love something so much and want it to disappear at the same time

He did not fail in love, but he lost the joy of it [...]

Old boy, said Grimes, you're in love. Nonsense! Smitten? said Grimes. No, no. The tender passion? No. Cupid's jolly little darts? No. Spring fancies, love's young dream? Nonsense! Not even a quickening of the pulse? No. A sweet despair? Certainly not. A trembling hope? No. A frisson ? a Je ne sais quoi ? Nothing of the sort. Liar! said Grimes.

When people hate with all that energy, it is something in themselves they are hating.

Whenever I see anything lovely nowadays—a building or a piece of scenery—I think to myself, 'that's by Charles.' I see everything through his eyes. He is England to me." I heard her say that; it was the sort of thing she had the habit of saying. Throughout our married life, again and again, I had felt my bowels shrivel within me at the things she said.

Here my last love died. There was nothing remarkable in the manner of its death.

Quando la gente odia con tanta foga, vuol dire che odia qualcosa che ha dentro di sé.

There are two distinct kinds of meanness - those which come of loving money and of disliking it. Mine was the latter sort.

I don't thinks she cares for anyone much. I love her. She's so like me. Do you? Is she? In looks and the way she talks. I wouldn't love anyone with a character like mine.

I must visualize the scene, Apthorpe. When we are old men, memories of things like this will be our chief comfort.

She was beautiful, but not like those girls in magazines. She was beautiful, for the way she thought. She was beautiful, for the sparkle in her eyes when she talked about something she loved. She was beautiful, for her ability to make other people smile, even if she was sad. No, she wasn't beautiful for something as temporary as her looks. She was beautiful, deep down to her soul. She is beautiful.

I'm p-paralyzed with happiness. - She laughed again, as if she said something very witty, and held my hand for a moment, looking up into my face, promising that there was no one in the world she so much wanted to see. That was a way she had.

She did not plan; she merely let herself go, and the overwhelming life in her did the rest.

Her face was sad and lovely with bright things in it, bright eyes and a bright passionate mouth, but there was an excitement in her voice that men who had cared for her found difficult to forget.

I love her and that is the beginning and end of everything.

Oh no; but promise me you'll remember.' Her tears were falling. 'I'll be different, but somewhere lost inside me there'll always be the person I am tonight.

Actually that's my secret — I can't even talk about you to anybody because I don't want any more people to know how wonderful you are.

Ah, she cried, you look so cool. Their eyes met, and they stared together at each other, alone in space. With an effort she glanced down at the table. You always look so cool, she repeated. She had told him that she loved him, and Tom Buchanan saw.

There is a moment—Oh, just before the first kiss, a whispered word—something that makes it worth while.