Quotes About Sentiment

How dear to this heart are the scenes of my childhood,When fond recollection presents them to view!

She who shuns love soon will pursue it, She who scorns gifts will send them still: That girl will learn to love, though she do it Against her will.

I wondered if that was what I was doing myself – caring so much about something that was so long gone that I was only propping it up.

It is sometimes said that you Americans are devoid of sentiment; that in affairs of the heart you are like birds who come in early spring and sing while the trees are in blossom, but who leave with no sign of regret at the first touch of Autumn. I do not believe that. Your sentiment is of another kind. You are younger than we as a race, you are perhaps barbaric, but what of it? You are still in the moulding. Your spirit is superb.

I don't want my poems to be sentimental, though I do acknowledge that sentiment is probably rather under-reported in a lot of people's feelings a lot of the time.

Obviously the first sentiment is disappointment that we didn't get the car home and more disappointment that at the time that it stopped the car was in the lead.

He was our symbol of baseball at a time when the game meant something to us that perhaps it no longer does.

Oh, that was a good time, when I was unhappy. [Fr., Oh c'etait le bon temps, j'etais bien malheureuse.]

You know how it is. Every time you kiss someone else, in a way you always remember that very first time.

Carnations) The only flower that, when given to someone, is marginally superior to dead ones.

I shall try to conjure up each of the sentences engraved in my memory which were either so unbearable or so comforting to me at the time that the mere thought of them today engulfs me in a wave of horror or sweetness.

Frances is feeling a familiar yet unnameably old feeling. One she hadn't known was ever hers to forget. Happiness.

I felt that, if we could avoid seeing each other for long enough, any questions of sentiment—so often deprecated by Barbara herself—could be allowed quietly to subside, and take their place in those niches of memory especially reserved for abortive emotional entanglements of that particular kind.

A bull market is like sex. It feels best just before it ends.

CHAPTER VI NOT IN LOVE

One does not like to have one's little offerings of sentimental service turned into burlesque when one is in love in earnest.

Poor Eleanor! I cannot say that with me John Bold was ever a favourite.

The physician and the philosopher have different ways of defining the diseases of the soul. For instance anger for the philosopher is a sentiment born of the desire to return an offense, whereas for the physician it is a surging of blood around the heart.

One would always want to think of oneself as being on the side of love, ready to recognize it and wish it well --but, when confronted with it in others, one so often resented it, questioned its true nature, secretly dismissed the particular instance as folly or promiscuity. Was it merely jealousy, or a reluctance to admit so noble and enviable a sentiment in anyone but oneself?

A fair and generous woman is (at best) respected, but seldom loved.

Women have seldom have been an attraction to me, for my brain has always governed my heart.

I hold the memories of you in my heart.

People are shaped by their emotions. That which profoundly affects them has a place in their hearts.

The simplistic nature of Islamism means that it thrives on victim narratives and clearly identifiable enemies. When there is no such simple, immediate outside threat against which sentiment can be rallied, and when peaceful coexistence is self-evidently in people's day-to-day interest, it finds it much less easy to gain traction.