Quotes About Emotion

The eyes are the windows of the soul.... If someone was to look into your eyes, what would you want them to see?

Sometimes I have a feeling that I just can't get rid of. Sometimes there's an experience that I want to write about that I have to get off my chest. Sometimes there are some words that appeal to you.

Yes, there's a certain power to a photograph. The camera has a way of disorienting a person, if it wants to and, for me, when it disorients, it's got real value.

Because I-I'm someone who wants to kiss you. Be with you." Eli says as if it is obvious, as if I know what is written on his heart.

I don't know how I know that, but I do. I can feel the beat of that truth inside me. Taste it bitter on my tongue. Sometimes, like now, I didn't think I want to know who I really am.

Oh, gosh, Olive. I'm so embarrassed." "No need to be," Olive tells her. "We all want to kill someone at some point." (179)

Curiously enough, the Sublime is generally achieved through want of proportion.

I also just accept that I might never want to write a song again.

Everybody acts like I'm nuts. I'm not nuts I just want to feel it all.

The act of taking offence becomes a weapon, and its wielder feels empowered by the false indignation.

Behold, my friends, I am justice. And when at last we meet, you will not like it. And if irony awakens in you at the end, see me weep with these tears of jade, and answer with a smile. If you've the courage. Have you, my friends, the courage?

There were looks that killed, and then there were looks that conducted torture.

Longing. Look for it, in every crowd, and you will find it. Paint it any colour you choose: grief, nostalgia, melancholy, remembrance, these are but flavours, poetic reflections.

Thus,' he added with a sorrowful smile, 'the opening of my heart proves, once more, a curse. Claiming those I care for, by virtue of that very emotion. Would that I had learned my lesson long ago

Betrayal was the greatest of all crimes in Rallick's mind, for it took all that was human within a person and made it a thing of pain.

Kill, thought Ditch, nodding, kill, yes, I understand. I do. Kill, for her. Kill. And he found that the word itself, yes, the word itself, knew how to smile.

Is love so paltry a thing, to be plucked and dropped to the ground at the first breath of contempt?

Two sets of memory warred in the woman, and the war was getting worse.

A small whimper escaped her throat, then she desperately pulled her eyes away.

Love could be such a squalid emotion: burning bright in the midst of pathos, the subject of pity and contempt, it blazed with brilliant stupidity all the same.

Wait." He stepped closer. "Listen to me, Scillara." And then he was silent, on his face a war of feelings trying to find words.

The easiest thing to break is a man's heart

And to weep was to be inside oneself, entirely, an inner place far more unrelenting and unforgiving than anything that could be found outside.

Grief rapes the mind, and I know all about rape.