Quotes About Emotion

Sometimes a man is intensely, even passionately, attached to suffering — that is a fact.

It is feeling that sets a man thinking, and not thought that sets him feeling.

A man deep-wounded may feel too much pain To feel much anger.

There is no feeling, perhaps, except the extremes of fear and grief, that does not find relief in music,--that does not make a man sing or play the better.

The vainest woman is never thoroughly conscious of her beauty till she is loved by the man who sets her own passion vibrating in return.

The artist is a man who finds that the form or shape of things externally corresponds, in some strange way, to the movements of his mental and emotional life.

Moping is an unattractive attribute in a man.

I am a man-pen. I feel through the pen, because of the pen.

Women mostly remember the men who made them laugh, and men - only the women who made them cry.

What signifies sadness, sir; a man grows lean on it.

While men define themselves by deeds, women simply "are" beauty, grace, faith and goodness. Men tend to be rational and objective, women subjective, intuitive and emotional.

I feel close to people like Jimi Hendrix because I connect with his music. Not the man but what he did.

Animals make us Human.

What is straight? A line can be straight, or a street, but the human heart, oh, no, it's curved like a road through mountains.

What is straight? A line can be straight, or a street, but the human heart, oh, no, it's curved like a road through mountains.

I think that hate is a feeling that can only exist where there is no understanding.

Hence these tears.

How could someone so cool, so different be such a cliche when it came to love?

I knew that love would not turn the silver devil into an angel. He would remain what he was--subtle yet childish, unfeeling yet passionate, lost irretrievably to everything but his own desire. But he loved me--and I loved him, now and forever.

He held his hand out to me without speaking; and it was then, as I went to him like a falcon flying to his fist, that I realized I loved him.

She stared at him breathlessly, seething. It was like hurling herself against a wall of granite, she thought disjointedly; fighting against him hurt her. But if she yielded to the unreasoned impulse of her love at this moment and flung herself into his arms in contrite tears, she would never come so close again to the citadel in his soul that he let no one approach unscathed.

I tell him of damnation, but I doubt he fears anything but the darkness in his own mind.

Then, with sensation of plunging into an unknown sea, I moved to lay my lips on his, unurged, uninvited, kissing him for the first time entirely of my own will.

Domenico's lashes drooped, veiling his eyes.