Quotes About Emotion

Only someone who doesn't understand art tells an artist their art somehow failed. How the fuck can art fail? Art can't be graded, because it's going to mean something different to everyone. You can't apply a mathematical absolute to art because there is no one formula for self-expression.

It's strange how just the sound of my dad's feet, the murmur of his voice, can change everything. Thing is, for all I know he could be in a good mood. It's just that I've learned to assume the worst.

Quite a sight," Mary finally said, and I felt like maybe she was sincere, that we were something to behold.

Slowly, the fire rolled down to her hands, and was this jittery flame and she was holding it. She was holding it in her hands, cupped together. It looked like what love must look like, just barely there, so easy to extinguish.

It was so nice to hear her voice, to hear her voice and listen to her talk about what she wanted. I never quite knew what I wanted, the letters I sent her so wishy-washy and pained. Madison, she fucking wanted stuff. And when she talked or wrote about it, with that intensity, you wanted to give it to her. You wanted her to have it. And it was so easy, I was in love with her again, the routine of our relationship, that she would hurt me, but I would allow it. I would live with it.

Slowly, the fire rolled down to her hands, and there was this jittery flame and she was holding it. She was holding it in her hands, cupped together. It looked like what love must look like, just barely there, so easy to extinguish. ? Kevin Wilson tags: nothing-to-see-here

Wonderful," Lucas Kizza exclaimed. "Wonderful," Buster repeated, just to hear what it sounded like coming out of his own mouth.

Slowly, the fire rolled down to her hands, and there was this jittery flame and she was holding it. She was holding it in her hands, cupped together. It looked like what love must look like, just barely there, so easy to extinguish.

I wondered if that was kind of the purpose of art, maybe, to make you see things that you knew but couldn't say out loud.

loved how expertly bitchy she was; I wanted to study her for a year.

Poetry steps in at those moments when ordinary words fail: poetry as ceremony, as closure to what cannot be closed.

I have come to know sorrow's not noun but verb, something that, unlike living, by doing right you do less of.

Errata Baby, give me just one more hiss We must lake it fast morever I want to cold you in my harms & never get lo I live you so much it perts! Baby, jive me gust one more bliss Whisper your neat nothings in my near Can we hock each other one tore mime? All light wrong? Baby give me just one more briss My won & homely You wake me meek in the needs Mill you larry me? Baby, hive me just one more guess With this sing I'll thee shed

We are not born with tears. Your first dozen cries are dry. It takes some time for the world to arrive and salt the eyes.

To waste this heart once more & have you here, not silent, only quiet, as before.

Love is strange & almost always too late.

Some people you love for life. You can't help yourself, and no matter what happens you're always going to feel that way.

Not a word passes between us, not because we have nothing to say, but because we don't have to say anything

People say that eyes are windows to the soul.

Exaggeration is truth that has lost its temper.

An exaggeration is a truth that has lost its temper.

And ever has it been known that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation.

Love is trembling happiness.

Comfort murders the passion of the soul, then walks grinning at the funeral.