Quotes About Emotion

He grew morose, and felt himself half overcome by funk

Rose:i love you Doctor:Quite right, and i guess if it's my last chance to say it... Rose Tyler... (the doctor fades, him in his TARDIS, with tear tracks and a tear running down his cheek)

Writing isn't just a job that stops at six thirty... It's a mad, sexy, sad, scary, ruthless, joyful, and utterly, utterly personal thing. There's not the writer and then me; there's just me. All of my life connects to the writing. All of it.

Mama wept openly. "If I don't die now," she cried, "there is no death.

I believe that in the deepest places in their hearts, people are violent and take pleasure in hurting each other.

Sometimes you don't need words to say what's in your heart.

At the time I was feeling hopeful, which now seems kind of sad and brave.

Because, you see, this feeling of alive is not so easy to experience

When a breeze blew, petals rained down on my upturned face, and I stopped and gasped, stunned by the beauty and sadness.

It was an explosion of sadness.

My anger frightened me more than my fear once had.

Did he hear her? If he had opened his eyes just then, he would have seen his wife's lovely face hanging over him like a pale moon.

I used to know how to feel. In war, these are lessons best forgotten.

He said he didn't need religion because he had jazz.

Music or madness. It's totally up to you.

Feeling is the important part. You don't have to make a big deal about it.

euphoria he felt after

Who hasn't wanted to die at one time or another?

That's what violence was: emotion leaking out from consciousness into the physical world, linking up with the muscles of the arms and shoulders and diaphragm and, inevitably, the face. Stifle emotion during an act of violence and the face becomes a blank, unreadable mask.

It was a face that instantly robbed those who gazed upon it of a good thirty percent of the energy they needed to go on living.

Memories are't like words; they're soft and gooey. Covered with a sticky slime, like a penis after sex, or your vagina when you menstruate, and shaped like tadpoles or tiny watersnakes

sex wasn't just about two people getting naked and tangled up together. A lot of other things were involved, things that make you feel so good you forget who you are, and things that feel so creepy you literally get goose bumps, and things you hold so dear you're afraid to go to sleep, and things that make you so happy you want to bounce up and down—layer after layer of things like that, all mixed up into a sticky mess with the blood and sweat and love juice.

any pop song in this particular country, when sung by several citizens at once, tended to turn into a mindless celebration devoid of any genuine sense of melancholy.

Sometimes you can remember everything about an old friend, down to minor details about his behaviour, but for the life of you you can't picture his face.