Quotes About Emotion

I knew that if anybody spoke to me or looked at me too closely the tears would fly out of my throat and I'd cry for a week. I could feel the tears brimming and sloshing in me like water in a glass that is unsteady and too full.

Now I am surely becoming an incurable romantic.

Sentí que mis pulmones se inflaban con la avalancha de paisajes: aire, montañas, árboles, personas. Pensé: esto es lo que es ser feliz.

The tulips should be behind bars like dangerous animals; They are opening like the mouth of some great African cat, And I am aware of my heart: it opens and closes Its bowl of red blooms out of sheer love of me. The water I taste is warm and salt, like the sea, And comes from a country far away as health. --from Tulips, written 18 March 1961

Betsy started to tell about the male and female corn in Kansas. She got so excited about that damn corn even the producer had tears in his eyes, only he couldn't use any of it, unfortunately, he said.

He kept smiling, as if the corners of his mouth were strung up on invisible wire.

Then he just stood there in front of me and I kept on staring at him. The only thing I could think of was turkey neck and turkey gizzards and I felt very depressed.

I didn't want my picture taken because I was going to cry. I didn't know why I was going to cry, but I knew that if anybody spoke to me or looked at me too closely the tears would fly out of my eyes and the sobs would fly out of my throat and I'd cry for a week

What does a woman see in a woman that she can't see in a man? Doctor Nolan paused. Then she said, Tenderness.

The blood jet is poetry, There is no stopping it. 'Kindness' by Sylvia Plath

Somehow these sluttish nights make me have a violent nunlike passion to write and sequester myself. I shall sequester. I don't want to see anybody because they are not Ted Hughes and I never have been made a fool of by a man.

I felt what the 19th century romantics must have felt: The extension of the soul into the realm of nature.

In life, love gnawed my skin To this white bone; What love did then, love does now: Gnaws me through.

I may never be happy but tonight I am content.

Tulipány by mÄ›ly být v kleci, je to divoká zv??; otevírají se jako tlama nÄ›jaké velké africké Å¡elmy a pojednou vím, že mám srdce: otvírá, zavírá vázu svých rudých kvÄ›t?, ?istÄ› jen z lásky ke mnÄ›. Když ochutnám vodu, je teplá a slaná a te?e sem ze zemÄ› daleké jako zdraví.

Especially after I read Pete DeVries recent scintillant "Afternoon of a Faun." There are ways and ways to have a love affair. Above all, one must not be serious about it.

This part of the woman in me, the concrete, present, immediate part, which needs the warmth of her man in bed and her man eating with her and her man thinking and communing with her soul: this part still cries to you:

They had an efficiency, a great beauty, And were extravagant, like torture.

memory throws a kind of halo around him.

and in bed in bed in bed.

Laughing Lazarus. And I forget the moments of radiance. I must get them down in print. Make them up in print. Be honest.

Sim, fiquei e levada com você, ainda estou. Ninguém jamais despertou tamanha intensidade de sensação física em mim. Afastei-o, pois não suportaria ser um capricho passageiro. Antes de entregar meu corpo, preciso entregar meus pensamentos, minha mente, meus sonhos. E você não queria saber de nada disso.

Almost, I think, the unreasoning, bestial purity was best.

O vase of acid, It is love you are full of.