Quotes About Feeling

I wish I could say courteous flatteries to you, the farmer continued in an easier tone, and put my rugged feeling into a graceful shape: but I have neither power nor patience to learn such things.

It often happens that in situations of unrestraint, where there is no thought of the eye of criticism, real feeling glides into a mode of manifestation not easily distinguishable from rodomontade. A veneer of affectation overlies a bulk of truth, with the evil consequence, if perceived, that the substance is estimated by the superficies, and the whole rejected.

I have been thinking, she continued, still in the tone of one brimful of feeling, that the social moulds civilization fits us into have no more relation to our actual shapes than the conventional shapes of the constellations have to the real star-patterns.

Geoffrey's own heart felt inconveniently large just then.

Silence has sometimes a remarkable power of showing itself as the disembodied soul of feeling wandering without its carcase, and it is then more impressive than speech. In the same way, to say a little is often to tell more than to say a great deal.

Her back seemed to be endowed with a sensitiveness to occular beams...

To give too much room to the latent feeling which is rather common in these days among the unappreciated, that because some remarkably successful men are fools, all remarkably unsuccessful men are geniuses.' 'Pretty

Their lives were ruined, he thought; ruined by the fundamental error of their matrimonial union: that of having based a permanent contract on a temporary feeling which had no necessary connection with affinities that alone render a life-long comradeship tolerable.

Half the pleasure of a feeling lies in being able to express it on the spur of the moment, and I let out mine.

There is a common emotion we all recognize and have not yet named—the happy anticipation of being able to feel contempt.

Nothing gladdens a writer more than a thought that can become pure feeling and a feeling that can become pure thought.

I opanowa? go rodzaj rozczulenia, prosta, a nabo?na sympatia do w?asnego serca, do bij?cego ludzkiego serca...

Glück des Schriftstellers ist der Gedanke, der ganz Gefühl, ist das Gefühl, das ganz Gedanke zu werden vermag.

That seems so strange to me: diseased and stupid both—I don't exactly know how to express it, but it gives me a most peculiar feeling, when somebody is so stupid, and then ill into the bargain. It must be the most melancholy thing in life.

Comprendes ahora por qué nosotros, los poetas, no podemos ser sabios ni dignos? ¿Comprendes por qué tenemos que extraviarnos necesariamente, y ser siempre disolutos, aventureros del sentimiento? La maestría de nuestro estilo es mentira e insensatez; nuestra gloria y honorabilidad, una farsa; la confianza de la multitud en nosotros, el colmo del ridículo.

Felicità per lo scrittore è il pensiero che può diventare interamente il sentimento, il sentimento che può diventare pensiero. Tali erano il pensiero palpitante e il sentimento rigoroso che appartenevano e obbedivano in quel momento al solitario: cioè, che la natura rabbrividisce di voluttà quando lo spirito s'inchina davanti alla bellezza.

Yet nothing would seem to dull a deft an noble intellect more swiftly, more surely than the sharp and bitter stimulant of erudition, and clearly the adolescent's melancholic and ever so conscientious thoroughness is shallow when compared with the profound resolve of the mature master to deny knowledge, disavow it, put it behind him, head high, lest it should in the slightest maim, discourage, or debase the will, action, feeling, and even passion.

Los hombres no saben por qué les satisfacen las obras de arte. No son verdaderamente entendidos, y creen descubrir innumerables excelencias en una obra, para justificar su admiración por ella, cuando el fundamento íntimo de su aplauso es un sentimiento imponderable que se llama simpatía.

Aimer... aimer... Qu'est-ce que c'est? Qa manque de définition, ce mot-là. Was der eine hat, liebt der andere, comme nous Allemands disons proverbialment.

We must return from the desert like Jesus or St. John, with our capacity for feeling expanded and deepened, strengthened against the appeals of falsity, warned against temptation, great, noble and pure.

Music, oh, how faint, how weak, Language fades before thy spell! Why should Feeling ever speak, When thou canst breathe her soul so well?

How do you feel about this terrible thing? Terrible, said Oedipa. Wonderful!

I thought at times that poetry might be an elegant way of screaming.

All my instincts tell me no.