Quotes About Emotion

partner—is standing there, holding her gun. Mark slouches down, waiting for the barrage of bullets. But instead, he notices the woman aim the weapon at herself, the muzzle propped against the bottom of her chin. Mark wants to scream, to tell her not to do it. But it's too late. The woman pulls the trigger. The boat drives on.

I promised I'd save him, take him home! I promised him!

We can do it," she said in a quiet voice. Hearing her say that only made him worry more. "Holy crap, I'm scared." "Holy crap, you're human. You should be scared.

You cried?" he heard Chuck say through the window. "Then?" "Yeah. When the last one finally fell over the Cliff, I broke down and sobbed till my throat and chest hurt." Thomas remembered all too well. "Everything crushed in on me at once. Sure made me feel better—don't feel bad about crying. Ever." "Kinda does make ya feel better, huh? Weird how that works.

If I don't see you on the other side," he said in a sappy voice, "remember that I love you.

felt something

He reached down and tugged on her braid, hoping she knew just how much she made his miserable life worth living.

Kiss me," she said. "Tom, kiss me." Her hands tightened on his face. She started to pull him down toward her. "No," he said, resisting. She stopped, a hurt look washing over her face. Her moving, blurring face. "Why?" she asked. The darkness almost had him fully now. "You're not … her." His voice, distant. A mere echo. "You could never be her.

She turned and walked away, and Thomas sat there, hoping his face hadn't flushed bright red when he remembered her being close to him in the Underneath.

Goose bumps broke out down his chest and arms.

She grabbed both of his hands in hers, squeezed. Then she rested her head on his shoulder, her nose nestled against his neck—she had to be standing on the tips of her toes. Each breath from her sent a new wave of chills across his skin.

She'd snapped, he thought. She'd definitely snapped.

If you ain't scared," Alby said, "you ain't human.

She was there. She'd been in his arms. They'd been together again. They'd kissed and he'd felt something he would've thought impossible.

Newt looked at the Cranks, then back at Thomas. "It comes and goes, man. I can't explain it. Sometimes I can't control myself, barely know what I'm doing. But usually it's just like an itch in my brain, throwing everything o?-kilter just enough to bother me— make me angry.

Thomas was hit with a wave of confusion, blistered with panic.

Le persone amano. Nei momenti migliori e in quelli peggiore. Le persone amano. Dovresti assicurarti che lei sappia cosa provi.

I hated the place, Tommy. I hated every second of every day. And it was all … your … fault!

Kill me. If you've ever been my friend, kill me. Please Tommy. Please

I want a fever, in poetry: a fever, and tranquillity.

What you have to realize when you write poetry, or if you love poetry, is that poetry is just naturally the greatest god damn thing that ever was in the whole universe

Detachment produces a peculiar state of mind. Maybe that's the worst sentence of all, to be deprived of feeling what a human being ought to be entitled to feel.

The river and everything I remembered about it became a possession to me, a personal, private possession, as nothing else in my life ever had. Now it ran nowhere but in my head, but there it ran as though immortally. I could feel it -- I can feel it -- on different places on my body.... In me it still is, and will be until I die, green, rocky, deep, fast, slow, and beautiful beyond reality.

Anger is a good motivator.