Quotes About Emotion

What she had realised was that love was that moment when your heart was about to burst.

Niets is zo mooi als de eerste eenzame minuten met iemand die jou zou kunnen beminnen en iemand die je zelf zou kunnen beminnen. Er bestaat niets dat zo stil is als die minuten, niets zo verzadigd met liefdelijke verwachting. In die paar minuten heeft men lief, niet in de vele die volgen. Nooit meer weet zij, zal zo iets schoons hen overkomen. Blijer zullen ze misschien worden, beter ook, en oneindig tevreden met elkaars lichaam. Maar nooit zal het meer zo schoon zijn.

When she enters the room she immediately shuts the window and draws the shade with a quick, hard pull. Then she throws herself down on the bed, and the sobbing starts all over again. It's as if she can't sob when she's not in a lying position - either that or she has to start sobbing the moment she lies down.

Kärlek är någonting som man inte kan rå för.

being in love is to be relieved of gravity.

Impulsively, I reached out to touch him him, even though I knew such action would evaporate his fragile corporeality. My hand touched silky hair, felt the hardness of skull beneath. I pulled away, gasping, drawing up my knees. This was too real.

My heart was fluttering madly as if I was in the presence of a new lover, of whom I was uncertain.

Beth was a pleasurable fantasy, but I liked to think she looked upon me as an imaginary friend.

Love seemed far from this place, but then, had he not predicted himself that love could be cruel and stronger than death?

I smiled when I discovered the bruise of a love-flower on his neck-quite a large one, in fact. It was one of those poignantly sad moments; whomever had given in that vigorous caress would never do so again.

I remembered how she had fought against my presence in the past, and how, in secret moments she had opened her heart to me, telling me she knew I wasn't real, but that in many ways, I was more real to her than anything. How I had longed to reveal myself to her at those times. Perhaps I should have.

Valraven is confused by feeling. It sends him reeling, which is both endearing and exasperating.

She had the appearance of a woman who'd just come from a lover's embrace herself.

My interest in her had always been out of the ordinary; something which transcended desire and gratification; a feeling I hoped was reciprocated.

He had revealed himself as false, yet still some part of her felt it was something from the past, something too dreadful to be articulated which impelled him to do the things he did.

He did not look at their faces, only their grins.

I do not feel quite real today. How quickly things can change.

Every movement, every glance, every low-pitched word is a work of art. Yes, they are performers, too, like me.

He sounded sceptical, but Othman sensed the hope in his words, that dreary, desperate hope. He smiled.

Daniel stared at him without expression, wanting to push his hand away, wanting to take hold of it and squeeze the fingers tightly, guide them to his face. It was hard to stay angry at Taziel.

My sore words are inspired by desperate need.

Leeth sat beside Ays and he smiled at her cooly; an aloofness that in the face of a beloved is devastatingly bewitching.

The empress was a dark flower herself, dressed not in red, as all the other women, but resplendent in a gold so muted, it seemed almost black. Varencienne wondered if any emotion surged through Tatrini's closed heart. Was she thinking of her own wedding day, all those years before, when her husband had been only a prince and the empire a smaller collection of lands? Had she been happy then, dizzy with girlish anticipation, or had she felt as Varencienne did now: resigned and cold?

He breathes as I breathe, he thinks as I think, yet we are worlds apart. I cannot know his thoughts, and yet our skins are touching. How strange.