Quotes About Emotion

people never gave away their hearts, however willing or desperate or lonely they were. Hearts always had to be taken. By force or trickery. Love was murder, the infliction of death by cardiac theft, and the alternative was even worse.

good writing inspires me to write and bad writing provokes me to write.

Never have them, Reg. I swear, you're never free. You LOVE them too much. It's like a vital organ walked out of your body and is out there waving hi to people and you fear for it all day, EVERY day, because if something happened to it...

A friend of mine, an older woman, once told me that every man is in love for an hour before and after each orgasm.

Do you love him? Deryn swallowed, then pointed at the screen. He makes me feel like that. Like flying.

Sometimes you can't choose what you love.

To everyone who loves a long-secret romance, revealed at last.

She carried a knife inside of herself now, one that was always cutting her. She could feel it every time she swallowed, every time her thoughts strayed from the splendor of the wild.

Tally turned away. Five minutes was suddenly too long to stand here, eyes burning, unable to cry.

You look beautiful - David

Wisdom tells me i'm nothing, love tells me I'm everything.

I took a rant-sized breath.

He shook with another sob, sinking to one knee and realizing that the survival of that one ship – one girl, really – had been for a moment more important than the war itself, or a city's millions. Then the wind shifted, and Alek breathed in the burnt-meat smells that filled the room behind him. Important enough for him to kill a man, it seemed.

but loving had left her skinless.

There is no truer, warmer pleasure in this world than to behold a great soul opening up towards oneself.

Sometimes when we are talking she lays her hand upon mine, and in the eagerness of conversation comes closer to me, and her balmy breath reaches my lips,—when I feel as if lightning

I possess so much, but my love for her absorbs it all. I possess so much, but without her I have nothing.

Pasión! ¡Embriaguez!¡Demencia! ¡Todo esto es letra muerta para vosotros, impasibles moralistas!

In the end, by all the Devils, yes! Partisan hatred's still the best,

Un ángel! ¡Bah! Todos dicen lo mismo de la que aman, ¿no es verdad? Y, sin embargo, yo no podré decirte cuán perfecta es y por qué es perfecta; en resumen, ha esclavizado todo mi ser.

Non, je ne me trompe pas ! je lis dans ses yeux noirs le sincère intérêt qu'elle prend à moi et à mon sort. Oui, je sens, et là-dessus je puis m'en rapporter à mon coeur, je sens qu'elle… Oh ! l'oserai-je ? oserai-je prononcer ce mot qui vaut le ciel ?… Elle m'aime ! Elle m'aime ! combien je me deviens cher à moi-même ! combien… j'ose te le dire à toi, tu m'entendras… combien je m'adore depuis qu'elle m'aime !

When he is by, I could not pray to Heaven.

Trato a este pobre corazón como a un niño enfermo; le concedo cuanto me pide. No se lo cuentes a nadie, que no faltaría quien me lo censurase.

Ah, woe! thy lips are chill, And still. How changed in fashion Thy passion! Who has done me this ill?