Quotes About Emotion

No, sir. Jesus wept: and no wonder, by Christ!

There'll be bluebells blowing in salty sepulchres the night she signs her final tear.

Why is it that words like these seem to me so dull and cold? Is it because there is no other word tender enough to be your name?

YesIsaidyesyesyesyesyes...YesIsaidyes! andagainyesyesyes -- Molly Bloom

First we feel. Then we fall. — James Joyce, Finnegans Wake .( Faber and Faber November 4, 2002) Originally published May 4th 1939.

Pero mi cuerpo era como un arpa y sus palabras y sus gestos eran como dedos que recorrían mis cuerdas.

Love loves to love love

his mother?

He was trembling now with annoyance. Why did she seem so abstracted? He did not know how he could begin. Was she annoyed, too, about something? If she would only turn to him or come to him of her own accord! To take her as she was would be brutal. No, he must see some ardour in her eyes first. He longed to be master of her strange mood.

The long eyelids beat and lift: a burning needleprick stings and quivers in the velvet iris.

her eyes gave him no sign of love or farewell or recognition.

The sentimentalist is he who would enjoy without incurring the immense debtorship for a thing done.

Generous tears filled Gabriel's eyes. He had never felt like that himself towards any woman but he knew that such a feeling must be love.

Her soul! Her name! Her eyes! They seem to me like strange beautiful blue wild-flowers growing in some tangled, rain-drenched hedge. And I have felt her soul tremble beside mine, and have spoken her name softly to the night, and have wept to see the beauty of the world passing like a dream behind her eyes. — James Joyce, from a love letter to (of) Nora Barnacle, Selected Joyce Letters , ed. Richard Ellmann (Viking Press, 1975)

Every Bond is a Bond to Sorrow

Don't know what poetry is even. Must be in a certain mood.

My love she's handsome, My love she's bony: She's like good whisky When it is new; But when 'tis old And growing cold It fades and dies like The mountain dew.

Beauty of music you must hear twice.

First kiss does the trick. The propitious moment. Something inside them goes pop.

In one letter that he had written to her then he had said: 'Why is it that words like these seem to me so dull and cold? Is it because there is no word tender enough to be your name?

Amour aime aimer amour!

The heart is a pump, xxx weak and fickle as any other machine, and sometimes an embolism of indifference stops affection's flow.

She thanked them for their letters, promised that they would be archived at the Kennedy Library, and said all the usual niceties one might expect a widow in her position to say. Then she caught viewers off guard with an emotional and revealing statement. In the middle of her remarks, she paused and said: "All his bright light gone from the world.

He gave a peculiar smile. It seemed intended to be rueful, but some other emotion was hijacking it, warping it into something weirdly triumphant. You seemed pretty sure a month ago . . . I said. Well, you have to take a position, don't you? ...