Quotes About Expression

El seguramente no sabe que la mujer joven que avanza en dirección contraria pronuncia aún, todos los días, casi siempre en voz baja, una expresión casi idéntica, ¡salud!, aunque ya nadie se ríe al escucharla.

Cuando pasa algo malo, pero malo de verdad, por mucho que llores, lo peor no es llorar, que eso a veces está bien, porque te quedas nuevo, lo peor empieza cuando no puedes llorar más, y entonces te das cuenta de que la tristeza es algo sucio, como un grumo gris, espeso, una pelota de barro dentro de los pulmones, que pesa, y la notas al respirar, todo el tiempo.

Y estaba sola, me sentía sola, incapaz de hablar, que es quizás la peor forma de la soledad.

Music is the literature of the heart; it commences where speech ends.

Cooking is a language through which all cultures speak.

I am a filmmaker. That is all I've ever been. You know, Martin Scorsese makes films about the mob. And I make movies about food.

There was still no likelihood that we could make a living from dance. We were doing it because we loved it... We realized how full we felt; we were surrounded by music and dancing and joy.

Now Kant is by no means easy to understand, which is no doubt part of his charm. If you want to be a really great philosopher, make sure not to say too clearly what you have in mind (well, maybe that's not quite enough, but it's a good start);

it's like your red blood is everywhere, not just in vessels.

Aw, now look at that, you're being sarcastic, aren't you?

What is going on with you?" she says, shaking her head and pushing me away. "What's up with all the love and affection? I mean, you of all people, you of the eternal iPod-hoodie combo.

Have I ever told you how much I love you, Ever? Have I? Ever, Ever?

You hurt my feelings." He shoots me a wounded look. "I wasn't aware that you had any.

i love purple and blue!!!!!

A veces el usa lenguaje de surfista californiano igual que todo el mundo aquí, y otras veces parece que ha salido de las páginas de Cumbres Borrascosas. —No. No me has contrariado, — yo le digo riéndome.

I scream at the top of my lungs for the longest time. And I know I should stop, but I can't. It just keeps coming out. But I don't cry. I won't let myself cry.

I give him a smile I don't really own.

He rambled. Oh boy, did he ramble. He rambled in a way that was nothing but a bunch of bippidy blah blah to my ears. Rambled in a way that made my head go all dizzy and squeezy.

That was the exhilaration of creating one's own compositions, that one's personal melodies could be reborn in the voices and spirits of others.

her heart came through best when she was using her needle and thread.

Como un poema que se recita pero jamás se escribe, es más poderoso porque únicamente se retiene en el recuerdo.

Yeah, the strange thing is, Ms. Topper, I never liked writing before. But now I notice I feel a lot better after I do it.

It's easy to recognize the surface of beauty. To see it with your two eyes. But the challenge to the artist is conveying the many layers underneath.

If there's a place you should be able to put yourself first, it's in your own sexual fantasies.