Quotes About Emotion

If she could externalize, make the emotion other, she would not believe it.

Wrath held him silent long enough for the corner of Morgan's mouth to twitch with discomfort.

His name flew from her lips as if on the wings of a swan.

It was almost a clean hate, for a moment, untainted by her own failures.

A song, and she'd swallowed it.

His gratification was a chill stone on her breast.

Her eyes stung with the beauty.

His eyes meet hers, and she gives him a sad little smile, half a curve of the lips that falls away softly.

A warm hand rested on Rien's nape. It was comforting, and it sent a shiver between her shoulders. She swallowed and licked salt from her lip and tried to think of what to say.

Mingan's cold little smile continued, twisting on his lips.

You know what you've lost, sometimes, and there's no point in talking about it. You turn around and look at the ruins, and then you either sink down by the roadside and cry or you pick up your pack and lump on.

Oh, Kit. Were you ever priveleged to love where love was not given first elsewhere? Even once?

She had to turn away from his eyes before she found her voice. He put a lump in her throat too big to talk around.

The tree laughed like crystal wind chimes. The sound crawled along my nerves and the nape of my neck in an unpleasant frisson.

One cannot love dust. One might as well put the hook in one's heart oneself.

Mehiel, my brother, I dare say the one thou lovest doth care for thee, as well.

Kit stepped close enough for Oxford to feel the heat of his breath, Will imagined, the naked blade angled between them as if laid down the center of a bed.

The poet stripped off his gloves with an elegantly negligent gesture and smiled up at the Queens. Will wondered if anyone else could see what Kit's smile cost.

Dry hands, hot, callused. Eyes dripping silver light, so it pooled and ran down the Wolf's creased cheeks like tears. But the look on his face wasn't sorrow.

For a moment, they sat together, the understanding between them almost big enough to fill that space.

He tossed his head to flick his dripping hair from his eyes, and then wished he hadn't, because Baines climbed up the three swaybacked steps to the dais and smoothed the muddy locks back with thick gentle fingers. Kit flinched from the touch as if it burned him, and in his heart he heard an angel whimper.

This is as close to an act of love as thou wilt ever taste.

She wore no iron rings; the city itself pained her.

My rival," he whispered, his lips moving against Cathoair's own as Cathoair tried not to understand. "My sister has excellent taste. What a fragile, beautiful boy thou art.