Quotes About Emotion

His anger was still there, and he used it to break into her. He liked the way her eyes widened in alarm, as if he was forcing a lock, as if he was breaking and entering. It was the first time he'd ever slept with a woman and it felt like burglary.

Her smiles were blurred, as if seen from a moving train. Her eyes always creased at the edges by dreams of leaving.

They say a heart breaks, but it doesn't. It goes on working, mute and stubborn as a mule.

She squeezed the left side of his face.

For the most time I've followed instinct rather than intelligence, and this has resulted in a modicum of happiness.

We must love someone. We must keep loving, all our days, Someone, anyone, anywhere Outside our selves; For even the sarus crane Will grieve over its lost companion, And the seal its mate. Somewhere in life There must be someone To take your hand And share the torrid day. Without the touch of love There is no life, and we must fade away.

strange, how lovers cannot bear that the world should not know their love

We said nothing for some time but we couldn't have been more eloquent.

Ram Bharosa says he will never forget the smile she gave him when she left the shop. She

We remember only what we want to remember.

Some friends—their eyes, their touch, their words—cannot be erased from our memory.

The human voice often shatters the beauty of the most tender passions; and when we left Simla next day, and Maureen and Sunil used all the stock cliches to express their love, I was a little disappointed. But the poetry of life was in their bodies, not in their tongues.

You know, the way love can change a fellow, is truly frightful to contemplate.' Wodehouse

Men always want to be a woman's first love. That is their clumsy vanity. We women have a more subtle instinct about things. What we like is to be a man's last romance.' And

She had given her heart, even before she was conscious of possessing one, to a stranger unworthy of the gift.

What could I do about finding a girl I had seen only twice, who had hardly spoken to me, and about whom I knew nothing—absolutely nothing—but for whom I felt a tenderness and responsibility that I had never felt before?

She saw that I was looking at her intently, but at first she pretended not to notice. She had pale skin, set off by shiny black hair and dark, troubled eyes. And then those eyes, searching and eloquent, met mine.

That sad word love,' she said, and became pensive and silent.

I am still on my zigzag way, pursuing the diagonal between reason and heart.

One hates a person for the same reason one loves him 

It is very difficult to stop feeling.

A story is what remains when you leave out most of the action.

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.

A girls heart is like a dark wood