Quotes About Emotion

Esta espécie de loucura Que é pouco chamar talento E que brilha em mim, na escura Confusão do pensamento, Não me traz felicidade; Porque, enfim, sempre haverá Sol ou sombra na cidade. Mas em mim não sei o que há.

Piccola Ophelinha, non so se mi vuole bene, ma le scrivo esattamente per questo motivo.

It's raining, and I suddenly feel the terrible weight of being an animal that doesn't know what it is, dreaming its thought and emotion, withdrawn into a spatial region of being as into a hovel, satisfied by a little heat as by an eternal truth.

Vivi, estudei, amei, e até cri, E hoje não há mendigo que eu não inveje só por não ser eu.

Citesc ca ÅŸi cum m-aÅŸ afla în trecere.Åži tocmai la clasici,la cei calmi,la cei care,dac? sufer?,nu p spun.

Vorrei parlarti, averti sempre accanto, e che non fosse necessario scriverti lettere - le lettere sono segni di separazione - o almeno segni, per la necessità di scriverle, del fatto di essere lontani.

Ah, é a saudade do outro que eu poderia ter sido que me dispersa e sobressalta!

Nunca amamos a alguien. Amamos, tan sólo, la idea que nos hacemos de alguien. Es a un concepto nuestro –en suma, es a nosotros mismo– a quien amamos.

Science describes things as they are; art as they are felt, as they are felt to be.

Every man, to be able to live and love, needs to idealize himself (and, ultimately, those he loves).

It's raining, and as if the rain had made them hunch forward, my feelings lower their stupid gaze to the ground, where water flows and nourishes nothing, washes nothing, cheers up nothing. It's raining, and I suddenly feel the terrible weight of being an animal that doesn't know what it is, dreaming its thought and emotion, withdrawn into a spatial region of being as into a hovel, satisfied by a little heat as by an eternal truth.

I am not a pessimist, I am merely sad.

Sometimes the mere rhythm of a sentence will require God instead of the Gods; at other times the two syllables of 'the Gods' will be necessary, and I'll verbally change universe; on still other occasions what will matter is an internal rhyme, a metrical displacement, or a burst of emotion, and polytheism or monotheism will prevail accordingly. The Gods are contingent on style.

All unhappiness enters through the window of observation and the door of thought.

Only those who are unable to think what they feel obey grammatical rules.

I want you only to dream of you,' they tell the beloved woman in verses they never send – they who dare not tell her anything. This 'I want you only to dream of you' is a verse from an old poem of mine. I record the memory with a smile, and don't even comment on the smile.

No one understands anyone else.

My sorrow that makes me Love all that's indefinite … — Fernando Pessoa, from "[A piano on my street …]," A Little Larger Than the Entire Universe: Selected Poems , ed. & transl. Richard Zenith (Penguin Classics, 2006)

To live is to be other. It's not even possible to feel, if one feels today what he felt yesterday. To feel today what one felt yesterday isn't to feel – it's to remember today what was felt yesterday, to be today's living corpse of what yesterday was lived and lost.

Every part of me is a vague nostalgia neither for the past nor for the future: the whole of me is a nostalgia for the anonymous, prolix, unfathomable present.

Amar es fastidioso, pero tal vez sea preferible a no amar.

The sweetness of the past? Our memory of it, since to remember it is to make it present, and it isn't present nor ever can be – absurdity, my love, absurdity.

La dulzura del pasado? El recordarlo, puesto que recordarlo es hacerlo presente y no lo es ni ya lo puede ser —el absurdo, mi amor, el absurdo.

I want you only for my dreams,' they tell the beloved woman in verses they never send – they who dare not tell her anything. This 'I want you only for my dreams' is a verse from an old poem of mine. I record the memory with a smile, and don't even comment on the smile.