Quotes About Emotion

Grief, she thought. It's a strange and a misunderstood emotion.

We are witnesses with both too much and too little feeling.

I like you both! And that's better than loving you, for that's expected, you know. But liking you, what a curious surprise.

I'll write about my past but I won't talk about it. I'll turn it into art if I can, but I won't talk about it.

Some things one doesn't want to remember.

Strength? What strength! This is a weak, flopping, sloshy, repulsive collection of nerves and ganglia. Don't even mention the word 'strength.

Her sobs grew worse, more bitter, until finally I bent and kissed her soft neck and cheeks. Winter plums. Plums from an enchanted wood where the fruit never falls from the boughs. Where the flowers never wither and die.

And we are this, this only, this ecstasy that flesh can give to flesh.

But then I do not remember everything, as I once thought I did. There is something in us, even us, that will not allow for that, something that pushes the memory of suffering that is unbearable slowly away.

You must have more than that to love, because loving, loving keeps us alive, loving is our best defense against time, and time is merciless. Time is a monster. Time devours everything.

What a smile. What a dazzle. How I wished for an instant that I had loved him.

Beethoven's Ninth. I played the torture part. I played the Second Movement.

Songs are everywhere you look, in the rain, in the wind, in the moan of the suffering, songs.

This is what love is, isn't it? It's not a thing for which you clear a certain space in your life. It takes over your life, and all else must be made to fit to it, or the result is endless grief or a willful numbness that results in the death of your spirit before your body.

And we do breathe. We breathe and we taste and we smell and we feel and we thirst.

But what creature in the world doesn't want to be loved for itself?

Sadness, it was such an arresting emotion. You could almost convince yourself of the rhyme and reason of heartbreak.

and when I took my fingers down, there was the stain of the tears, tinged with mortal blood. And already there was begun in me the tingling of the monster that had killed, and would kill again

I love; therefore I am.

Sé la música en tono menor de mi vida

This is what love is, isn't it? It's not a thing for which you clear a certain space in your life. It takes over your life, and all else must be made to fit to it, or the result is endless grief or a willful numbness that results in the death of your spirit before your body. I have seen this truth in the eyes of Julie and Ramsey. And I see it in your eyes when I look at

Nothing vanishes quite like pain—when pain does vanish, that is. Because most of the time pain never does.

Once again, he smiled at me so knowingly, with such a quiet air of triumph.

Rompió a llorar, cosa que yo nunca le había visto hacer. Y yo gocé de aquel instante pese a todo el dolor que contenía. Me dio vergüenza sentir aquello, pero no la solté. La mantuve abrazada con fuerza y tal vez la besé por todas las veces que no me había permitido hacerlo. Por un instante, parecíamos dos partes de una misma cosa.