Quotes About Emotion

But what is the heart, madame? It's worth less than people think. it's quite accommodating, it accepts anything. You give it whatever you have, it's not very particular. But the body... Ha! That's something else again! It has a cultivated taste, as they say, it knows what it wants. A heart doesn't choose, and one always ends up by loving.

And nobody has ever gotten emotional over a James Patterson novel.

I love life and I want to live, to cry but cannot—I feel such a pain in my soul—a pain which frightens me. My soul is ill. My soul, not my mind. The doctors do not understand my illness.... Everybody who reads these lines will suffer.... My body is not ill, it is my soul that is ill.

Man is subordinate to certain absolute values; there is no delight in the human form leading to its natural reproduction; it is always distorted to fit the more abstract forms which convey intense religious emotion.

Nietzsche was not an atheist, any more than the Buddha was.* Anyone who reads the Night Song and the Dance Song in Zarathustra will recognize that they spring out the same emotion as the Vedic or Gathic hymns or the Psalms of David. The idea of the Superman is a response to the need for salvation in precisely the same way that Buddhism was a response to the 'three signs'.

I didn't want to love you, but I can't help it. I don't want to be without you, but I bloody well will. - Max

I don't plan to be a gentleman about this Victoria. He doesn't want you - he doesn't want anyone - an I do. ~ Sebastian

Lei frugò tra le lenzuola, quindi serrò le dita intorno al legno levigato. «Ti amerò per sempre, Phillip». E lo pugnalò.

That was Chas. Furious and black-hearted one minute, ready to crack a wry joke the next.

Carpenter snarled when he said the word, a mangy dog hoarding his bone:

When he heard autumn leaves skuttling in the wind, he remembered that chuckle.

When you remember this moment later you will understand that I was saying goodbye even if you did not know it.

She flickered then, as Ruby had that morning, and he saw her as she was on that rainy afternoon under his umbrella: almond-shaped dark eyes under long lashes, delicate in her pink cardigan, edges of her mouth upturned at one of her strange jokes. Unaware of the effect she had on people. On him, all these years later.

Humiliation was his currency, but tonight Miss Laura had picked his pocket.

Understanding that something is always lost when it comes to human beings.

Where happiness was not a possibility, the illusion of it was always more important.

He said to me once that most of the time people use the word love as just another way to show off they're hungry. The way he said it went something like: Glorify their appetites.

But being rational about it didn't cure it.

What monstrous things, our pasts, especially when they have been lovely.

Once we had filled each other with desire, not remembrance.

Everything falls into the hands of music eventually. The only thing that ever rescued me was listening to a big voice. There are years accumulated in a sound.

she might not have been party to love, but it still took a lot of volume to fill a life.

In the end, the only things worth doing are the things that might possibly break your heart.

Her smile colud've broen glass.