Quotes About Emotion

You're not hurt, are you?" "Only my delicate sensibilities.

For an age we stood there like that, me holding him by the collar of his jacket and kissing him for all I was worth, him standing there, hands up like I was frisking him with no idea what to do about it. It. Was. Awesome.

As the last note sobbed to death, we came face to face, closer than was natural, our steps meshed in the confined space.

he took my hand again, and I burned in the flame of him.

She unequivocally rejected his crimes, yet he was the father who, in her childhood memory, was loving—until he wasn't.

What will they be like, the people we come back to? What will it all be like?" he whispered suddenly in anguish.

Here is one with a gift for loving and a gift for hating, and when he hates, God help the man who earns his hatred.

I've always said that people who claim "you can't buy love," have never purchased a dog. You most certainly can buy love, whether it's a shelter pet, a rescue dog or a pure-bred Sheltie.

what human walking this earth is really worthy of their dog's unconditional love?

If you're ever tempted by suicidal thoughts, stop and really think about what this will do to your dog. Because your dog will never be the same.

I know the best moments can never be captured on film, even as I spend nearly half my life trying to do just that.

Fame stole my yellow. Yellow is the color you get when you're real and brutally honest. Yellow is with my kids[...]The bundle of bright yellow warming my core, formerly frozen and uninhabitable[...]They got yellow from me, and I felt yellow giving it to them and it was all good[...]So, why am I leaving my show? It took my yellow. I wanted it back. Without it I can't live. The gray kills me.

At times of great emotion, good or bad, I find I am gone, somewhere else, watching it happen to me, a different me. I miss a lot of my own life, my own moments, because I step outside myself. I feel it all more in retrospect than in actual time.

My heart sounded like a washtub being beaten with a leg of mutton.

The smile that folded the puffed eyelids and creased the sagging cheeks was fixed and forced. I'd seen such smiles in mortuaries on the false face of death. It reminded me that I was going to grow old and die.

She put her hands over her ears and made a monkey face. Even then, she couldn't look ugly. She had such good bones, her skeleton would have been an ornament in any closet.

Embarrassment thickened in his throat like phlegm.

The tea tasted like a clear dark dripping from the past. My grandmother came back with it, in crisp black funeral silks

He was silent for a minute. His gaze moved past me and grew distant as if he was watching his daughter slip away over a receding horizon. I had no children, but I had given up envying people who had.

She spoke with a kind of wilted gallantry. I looked at her. She'd leaned her head against the cracked leather seat, and closed her eyes. Without their light and depth in her face, she looked about thirteen. I caught myself up short, recognizing a feeling I'd had before. It started out as paternal sympathy but rapidly degenerated, if I let it. And Mildred had a husband.

He had black eyes like his mother's, and short brown hair which stuck up all over his head like visible excitement.

Her expression seemed to keep changing, from grief and fear and dismay to cold indifference. I wondered what caused the changes, or if my mind had conspired with the lights to half imagine them.

Prince looked ready to slug me. I almost wished he would. Like most Americans, I was a counter-puncher.

He looked at her with contempt, the contempt that silver might feel for sodden flesh. "She never could hold her liquor." "We were pub-crawling," I said. "We had a wizard do." He looked at me sharply. "Evidently. Now why should you be interested in a bag of worms like this?" "You're talking about the woman I love.