Quotes About Emotion

His face was pale and there was a sheen of sweat on it, and his hands were rigid in his lap. If she had touched him she would have felt locked muscles.

Had he any choice? Can one decide whether to love or not? Yes, probably. One could walk away from life and choose half a life, paralysis of the soul.

He stopped. He could see in her face that she had not even thought of that sort of love. The very idea of a consuming sexual passion which culminated in murder was something that had not occurred to her with regard to herself and the general.

His face crumpled a little. It was highly expressive, mirroring his thoughts and feelings more than he wished.

But do not confuse romance with love. I know how to love." She stood up. "I fear your romance is largely an indulgence, and indulgence is selfishness and has to be paid for.

twitched. "For

Many people desire no more than a convention— the sharing of a home, a social position, children, and the wider family; they do not wish to share their thoughts or their leisure, above all they do not wish to reveal their inner selves, where dreams are held, where they may be known, and thus wounded. They will not take risks. In the end there is no generosity of soul, only safety. There is no giving where there may be cost.

lacks the depth, or the courage, to feel anything deeply enough to pay for it.

She flushed hot to remember how utterly she had given herself to him in that one consuming kiss. All her heart and mind and will had been in it, all the things she could never ever have said to him.

Memory was a curse, yes, he thought, but it was also the greatest gift. Because if you lost memory you lost everything.

I never knew what life was until it ran out in a red gush over any lips, my hands!

We shall live even in this state of living death, we shall love, we shall feel, we shall defy all who would judge and destroy us.

Revenge is the concern of those who are at some point or other beaten. I am not beaten, I told myself. No, not beaten. And victory is far more interesting to contemplate than revenge.

Suppose death had a heart to love and to release you, to whom would he turn this passion, would you chose a person from the crowd there. A person to suffer as you suffer.

Because I show you my pain, I do not of necessity love you.

I had wanted to say that my song was far too painful to sing.

The fact that I loved you was the greatest lie I have ever lived.

I would die rather than live without you. I would die the same way he died. I can't bear you to look at me the way you did. I cannot bear it if you do not love me! -Claudia.

Without memory there can be no insight. Without love, there can be no appreciation.

Anger is too pathetic. Anger is as weak as fear.

Oh, but when love is reached through suffering, it has a power it can never gain through innocence.

I feel the darkness near me; I feel the light shining. And more keenly I feel the contrast between the two.

Had I ever loved anyone more than I loved him? Had I ever revealed more of my soul to anyone than I had revealed to him? If my tears spilled now, he would see them. If I trembled now, he would know.

And I loved this moment for all it's pain...We seemed for a moment like two parts of the same thing.