Quotes About Emotion

She says isn't it funny how every second, every minute, every day, month, year, is accounted for, capable of being named—when time, or life, is so unwieldy, so intangible and slippery? This makes her feel compassion toward the people who invented the concept of "telling time." How hopeful, she says. How beautifully futile. How perfectly human.

She says Mom does the emotional work for the whole family, feeling everything ten times harder than is necessary so the rest of us can act normal.

She is not crying, she says, she is moisturizing

My words aren't only words. They're pictures and tears and imperfect offerings of love and self-inflicted shots to my brain.

The truth is, I don't have a catchy method of conversing and yet, unfortunately, suffer on a minute-to-minute basis the agony of the unexpressed thought.

That the pain of letting go of grief is just as painful or even more painful than the grief itself. It means goodbye.

I don't have a catchy method of conversing and yet, unfortunately, suffer on a minute-to-minute basis the agony of the unexpressed thought.

L'Ona ha vingut al meu costat i mira per damunt de la meva espatlla. M'hi posarà la mà? M'observa mentre escric. Em tremola el bolígraf. No sap llegir, de manera que puc escriure aquestes paraules: «La meva ànima és teva, Ona», i ella no ho sabrà.

Jo no he dit mai que no cregués en l'amor, diu ella. Només que no estic segura de què significa exactament. En tot cas, el que he dit abans era que no creia en la seguretat que dieu que proporciona l'amor.

I sat on my Dad's bed and flipped through the page after empty page. No stamps. No exotic locales. No travel-worn smudges or creases. Just the ID information and my mother's black and white photo which if it where used in a psychology textbook on the meaning of facial expressions would be labelled: Obscenely, heartbreakingly hopeful

The director said he's got a haunted soul and a natural sweetness.

Com és que l'esment de l'amor, el record de l'amor, el record de l'amor perdut, la promesa de l'amor, la fi de l'amor, l'absència de l'amor, la necessitat abrusadora, abrusadora d'amor, la necessitat d'estimar, desencadena tanta violència?

And we hug and I begin to tell her that I love her before words become impossible and we simply breathe together in each other's arms for a minute, before I go. Before I have to be elsewhere.

What's a little inferno in your bonnet.

Ljubav nije vjestina. To je pitanje dara kao i poezija. Ljubav ljudi locu, nazalost, a ljubav nije pivo, ljubav je nadahnuce.

Such anger is a destructive emotion. It eats away at whatever peace you have, and in the end it causes nothing but greater pain that you began with

Every life has one true love snapshot.

The truth is, when our mothers held us, rocked us, stroked our heads -none of us ever got enough of that. We all yearn in some way to return to those days when we were completely taken care of - unconditional love, unconditional attention. Most of us didn't get enough.

I don't know what it is about food your mother makes for you, especially when it's something that anyone can make - pancakes, meat loaf, tuna salad - but it carries a certain taste of memory.

I love you every day. And now I will miss you every day.

I realized when you look at your mother, you are looking at the purest love you will ever know.

All I was afraid of is saying good-bye.

The more you defend a lie, the angrier you become.

All humans are musical. Why else would the Lord give you a beating heart?