Quotes About Emotion

He needed to gather her up, hold on to her, anything to help her stop trembling. Something was going to shake loose if she didn't.

You stole my heart, Regan,he told her. And I don't particularly want it back.

Deeply, simply: he who cannot love cannot understand.

What you want most you push away from you. You want more than you care to admit.

Draum om nedsnødde bruer Med vi står fell snøen tettare. Kåpearmen din blir kvit. Kåpearmen min blir kvit. Dei går mellom oss som nedsnødde bruer. Men nedsnødde bruer er frosne. Inni her er det levande varmt. Varm under snøen er armen din ei sæl vekt på min. Det snør og snør på stille bruer. Bruer ingen veit om.

Fear can resemble a crackling sound in a frozen ditch.

That's what poems are for, so you don't understand a thing.

This was the Great Romance. To love at any cost.

Adrenaline dulls reason; panic kills it.

How can there be love without a true choice? Would you suggest that man be stripped of the capacity to love?

Love can only be found in freedom of choice. And for choice to exist, there must be an alternative to choose. Something as compelling as love.

Love can only be found in freedom of choice.

In the space of so many scant hours, a new world had lifted the hem of her skirts before him. A world of seething pleasures and sweaty rage.

His eyes held a subtle light that she could not mistake for anything other than true attraction. The kind that mere friends did not share. She hated it. She loved it. She hated that she loved it.

How can there be love without a true choice? Would you suggest that man be stripped of the capacity to love?" This was the Great Romance. To love at any cost.

Ahora dormir no logro porque el amor es mi sueño y he tenido suficiente para que dure una semana

His hand flashed, slapping her cheek with an open palm before she saw it moving. The force of his blow snapped her head sideways. Tears sprang to her eyes.

Sylous reached up and held Rose's face in his large warm hands. His deep green eyes pulled her in.

Sylous leaned in close and placed his lips against hers. Tender and warm, his kiss buzzed inside her mouth. He held her there, caught up in a perfect moment, and when he released her, a new resolve had flooded her chest.

What is love?

This was what Alvin Finch had learned: you can break their bones, but it is far better to break their heart. Suffice it to say that he had broken the father's heart.

But the jewel you lost was blue.

It was a saying about noble figures in old Irish poems—he would give his hawk to any man that asked for it, yet he loved his hawk better than men nowadays love their bride of tomorrow. He would mourn a dog with more grief than men nowadays mourn their fathers.

Your journal pages. Your effort to cry words