Quotes About Emotion

I took a deep breath and listened to the old bray of my heart. I am. I am. I am.

I didn't know why I was going to cry, but I knew that if anybody spoke to me or looked at me too closely the tears would fly out of my eyes and the sobs would fly out of the throat and I'd cry for a week.

The blood jet is poetry and there is no stopping it.

I felt my lungs inflate with the onrush of scenery—air, mountains, trees, people. I thought, "This is what it is to be happy.

And when at last you find someone to whom you feel you can pour out your soul, you stop in shock at the words you utter— they are so rusty, so ugly, so meaningless and feeble from being kept in the small cramped dark inside you so long.

let me live, love, and say it well in good sentences

My blood ran with this ink...

Rainbows apologize for angry skies.

I had wonderful love but I did not give back wonderful love, I was unable to reply to their love. Because I was obsessed with some fictional sense of separation, I couldn't touch the thing that was offered to me,and it was offered to me everywhere.

It was so much more exquisite to long for somebody than to have her there beside him.

Live Songs, he said, represented "a very confused and

Jedes Gedicht, das dich berührt, ist wie ein Ruf, der eine Reaktion erfordert, und man möchte mit seiner eigenen Geschichte antworten.

Love here on earth Love beyond the grave There are no roads My love for you can't pave.

Trauma can warp the brain.

I'm a half-empty kind of girl.

Memory is the same as water. It is a still lake bathed in moonlight, a vast ocean, a violent river ready to carry you away. It can calm you or it can harm you; it is both more powerful and weaker than you'd think. It is a paradox.

A body forgets, but the heart remembers.

That's the way with sentimental things: it's the memory the junk conjures that's valuable, not the junk itself.

Recollection of fear can be stronger than the original fear itself. Similarly, bliss is sometimes more vivid when recollected. How else do you explain longing? Longing for what has already passed. That's the real pain.

Even the heart in time may grow cold.

When lovely woman stoops to folly andPaces about her room again, alone,She smooths her hair with automatic hand,And puts a record on the gramophone.

The only way of expressing emotion in the form of art is by finding an "objective correlative"; in other words, a set of objects, a situation, a chain of events which shall be the formula of that particular emotion.

And so each ventureIs a new beginning, a raid on the inarticulateWith shabby equipment always deterioratingIn the general mess of imprecision of feeling,Undisciplined squads of emotion.

The business of the poet is not to find new emotions, but to use the ordinary ones and, in working them up into poetry, to express feelings which are not in actual emotions at all.