Quotes About Emotion

it is hard to believe when I'm with you that there can be anything as still as solemn as unpleasantly definitive as statuary when right in front of it in the warm New York 4 o'clock light we are drifting back and forth between each other like a tree breathing through its spectacles

There should be so much more, not of orange, of words, of how terrible orange is and life.

I loved her fright, which was against me into the air! and the diamond white of her forelock which seemed to smart with thoughts as my heart smarted with life! and she'd toss her head with the pain and paw the air and champ the bit, as if I were Endymion and she, moon-like, hated to love me.

my words are love which willfully parades in its room, refusing to move.

It may be the coldest day of The year, what does he think of That? I mean, what do I? And if I do, Perhaps I am myself again.

Travel" Sometimes I know I love you better than all the others I kiss it's funny but it's true and I wouldn't roll from one to the next so fast if you hadn't knocked them all down like ninepins when you roared by my bed I keep trying to race ahead and catch you at the newest station or whistle stop but you are flighty about schedules and always soar away just as leaning from my taxicab my breath reaches for the back of your neck

O my enormous piano, you are not like being outdoors

I look at you and I would rather look at you than all the portraits in the world

It's a summer day, and I want to be wanted more than anything else in the world.

Einen Augenblick lang fixierte er ihn, als schwanke er zwischen Mord und Kniefall.

For nobody else, gave me thrill-with all your faults, I love you still. It had to be you, wonderful you, it had to be you.

Damn it, woman—can't you see I love you!

Music, in performance, is a type of sculpture. The air in the performance is sculpted into something.

The computer can't tell you the emotional story. It can give you the exact mathematical design, but what's missing is the eyebrows.

I think when I'm in love, I really am very good with calling, little faxes, and visiting and I really put a lot of effort into it. I'm really not the one that's not available because of work and I'm very sad when I actually leave.

Soccer isn't the same as Bach or Buddhism. But it is often more deeply felt than religion, and just as much a part of the community's fabric, a repository of traditions.

Nothing is more responsible for the good old days than a bad memory.

There are no preconditions for jealousy. You don't have to be right, you don't have to be reasonable.

Should I ever again sink into illness, I'm sure I'll remember Eldric. I'll remember he cared for me. I'll remember that someone had at least taken the time to touch my face.

People think me a sort of Florence Nightingale, but I have no heroic qualities. I simply don't feel very much.

I turned my peeled-apple face to him. I'd make myself look at him. I owed him that. His touch lingered on my neck as though he'd left a handprint of melted light.

When you stop time, you don't accept your sorrows. When you stop time, you want everything to be the way it was before.

The reality is that we are bodies born from other bodies, bodies feeding other bodies, bodies having sex with other bodies, bodies seeking a shoulder to lean or cry on, bodies traveling long distances to be close to other bodies, and so on. Would life be worth living without these connections and the emotions they arouse? How happy would we be, especially given that happiness, too, is an emotion?

The ugly sister of gratitude is revenge, an emotion equally concerned with the squaring of accounts, but in a negative sense.