Quotes About Emotion

The words you can't find, you borrow. We read to know we're not alone. We read because we are alone. We read and we are not alone.

A question I've thought about a great deal is why it is so much easier to write about the things we dislike/hate/acknowledge to be flawed than the things we love.

Maya, we are what we love. We are that we love.

Why do two people fall in love? It's a mystery.

His heart is too full, and no words to release it.

In my humble opinion, love is when a person believes that he, she or it can't live without some other he, she or it...I said believes. No one actually needs another person or another person's live to survive. Love, Lizzie, is when we have irrationally convinced ourselves that we do.

Betty inhales sharply, 'It's just I thought I had lost you forever.' Oh, Betty, don't you know there's no such thing as forever?

It is to acknowledge that love is both a constant and a variable at the same time.

No one will ever love me that much again.

My brain said no. But my heart!

That Woman is in love with her own grief.

Maybe if I'd been braver in that moment, I would have cried.

It's sad when you think about it, but also kind of beautiful.

He told me that love was the only thing that really mattered in the world.

Time was mathematically explicable; it was the heart—the part of the brain represented by the heart—that was the mystery.

For most of his life, Sam had found it difficult to say I Love You. It was superior, he believed, to show love those one loved. But now, it seemed like one of the easiest things in the world Sam could do. Why wouldn't you tell someone you loved them? Once you loved someone, you repeated it until they were tired of hearing it. You said it until it ceased to have meaning. Why not? Of course, you goddamn did.

What does love even mean when you can find it with so many people and things?

I missed her like a reflex, even though I knew that it was just some trick of my undependable brain. Some stupid, vestigial part. The way humans have appendixes, even though they're pointless and mainly just a pain in the butt and people never even think about them unless they have to have them removed.

He kissed me, though not in a sexy way. Gentle. Tender.

Fuck you. I like you. I'm used to you. You are the one, you asshole. I can't meet someone new.

My beautiful Win. I wanted to kiss him on every last broken place, but his mother and my lawyer were there. So, instead I started to cry.

All I can say is . . . All I can say is we'll figure it out, I swear. When I read a book, I want you to be reading it at the same time. I want to know what would Amelia think of it. I want you to be mine. I can promise you books and conversation and all my heart, Amy.

art doesn't typically get made by happy people.

His heart is too full, and no words to release it. I know what words do, he thinks. They let us feel less.