Quotes About Emotion

Att lämna sitt språk är som lämna sin själ

Is the need to love greater than the need to hate?

if you cannot hate you cannot love. If you cannot bite you can not kiss. If you cannot curse you cannot bless. Who cannot be a good hater will be a poor lover.

Tenderness between people is nothing other than awareness of the possibility of relations without purpose.

Das Bedürfnis, Leiden beredt werden zu lassen, ist Bedingung aller Wahrheit. (The need to lend a voice to suffering [literally: "to let suffering be eloquent"] is the condition of all truth)

She had longed for adventure, and now that it was happening to her, she was not sure how she felt about it.

It is not surprising that emotion untutored by thought results in nearly contentless blather, in which--ironically enough--genuine emotion cannot be adequately expressed.

Years later it is common for it to be thought that the possession of an opinion on a subject, which is active, is deemed more important than having any information on that subject, which is passive; and that the vehemence (feeling) with which an opinion is held is more important than the facts (knowledge) upon which it is based.

The lesson is that any powerful emotion or desire, however virtuous in many circumstances, can be turned to evil purposes if it escapes ethical control.

a sentimentalist is simply one who desires to have the luxury of an emotion without paying for it.' Oscar Wilde

Only a man with a heart of stone could read of the death of Little Nell without laughing.' Oscar Wilde

Art is the stored honey of the human soul.

A thought will color a world for us.

Art is the stored honey of the human soul, gathered on wings of misery and travail.

Disappointment is often the salt of life.

I remember the neckcurls, limp and damp as tendrils,And her quick look, a sidelong pickerel smile.

Fear was my father, Father Fear.His look drained the stones.

I do not laugh; I do not cry; I'm sweating out the will to die. My past is sliding down the drain; I soon will be myself again.

There is quite enough sorrow and shame and suffering and baseness in real life, and there is no need for meeting it unnecessarily in fiction.

Is it any wonder that I loved my regiment?

Why must we love where the lightning strikes, and not where we choose?

Love's a different sort of thing, hot enough to make you flow into something, interflow, cool and anneal and be a weld stronger than what you started with.

A dream is what makes people love life even when it is painful.

Who can believe that there is no soul behind those luminous eyes?