Quotes About Emotion

Perhaps he had worked a vague charm, and she was giving forth her deepest thoughts.

On and one went the sprightly melody, eloquent, celebratory, and utterly human, demanding to be felt as well as heard, demanding to be followed in every intricate twist and turn.

She was the woman to whom I'd surrendered passion, pride, and honor for a long time before.

As she moved back from the vampire, I saw the tears standing in her eyes like glass in the flicker of the lights, and I felt my spirit contract in fear for her, and in longing. Her beauty was heartbreaking.

Nunca en mi vida he dejado de amar a nadie que haya querido.

though the melody kept putting its hooks into me and dragging me with it mentally so that I was dancing in my head against my will. And

She had grown still and was staring at me yet, her eyes full of the fire of the torch, her lower lip trembling, and a sigh coming out of her as though she was about to cry again.

Had I ever loved anyone more than I loved him? Had I ever revealed more of my soul to anyone than I revealed to him?

Y nuestro cerebro da color a la lluvia. Y el trueno es como algo que recuerda algo. Stan Rice.

Never had she seemed more alive, more purely human, more utterly natural in her rosy beauty-a thing not to be despoiled.

He appeared the handsomest of men, his eyes utterly unclouded and almost fierce, and his cheeks beautifully flushed.

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

Maybe because I'd read the chronicles so avidly, I felt Lestat was as close to me as I was to him.

The heat in me was delicious and unendurable, and I wanted nothing more than to take Amadeo, bring him over to me now, and yet he sat before me, the tears streaming down his face.

Ma la bambina, quell'antica bambina, la mia Claudia, era cenere. Un urlo crebbe dentro di me, un selvaggio e devastante urlo che veniva dalle viscere del mio essere; si alzava come il vento che faceva turbinare la pioggia su quelle ceneri, che batteva sull'impronta di una mano, sui mattoni, che sollevava quei capelli biondi.

Puede que en definitiva todas las canciones sean un lamento, un grito organizado.

Fájdalom. Kimondhatatlan fájdalom. Nem érdekelt, ki mindenki figyel most ebbÅ'l vagy egy másik világból, ki próbál osztozni velem a pillanatban, és ki az, aki pusztán remegve nézi, amint én átélem. Nem számított. Amikor efféle fájdalom ér minket, mindig egyedül vagyunk.

His dark-green eyes made me think of Merrick's, and for one moment I felt such a desire for her, such a horror of what I'd done, that I couldn't speak.

No mortal lives long enough to forget their great loves entirely, do they.

Having long identified my own soul with the salvation of the Empire, I felt no consolation in this city. I felt suspicion and profound distaste.

I wanted to feel morally safe, which I would never feel again.

Even if his eyes were dull as though the dazzling colors of my paintings did not matter to him, was he not near at hand?

La poesía debería tomarse en pequeñas dosis. Nadie necesita poesía. Nadie necesita obligarse a leerla.

Ryan looked amazingly composed, as if he'd thrown an inner switch to Business Mode; there was nothing bitter or resentful in his attitude.