Quotes About Emotion

Love, understood by all, will be pouring forth its unconscious eloquence.

Aunque hable las lenguas de los hombres y de los ángeles, si no tuviera Amor, sería como el bronce que suena, o como el címbalo que tañe.

He sat there staring down into the descending darkness, his thoughts wildly mixed and uncertain. For the moment he knew only one thing; from this night forwards he would never be able to think of Jane Hudson or her sister without experiencing all over again the same awful retching sickness that he felt now.

She may be your own sister, honey, your own flesh and blood, but you've got to face it, deep down inside she hates you like poison and nothing would please her more than to see you get it right in the neck. The

She may be your own sister, honey, your own flesh and blood, but you've got to face it, deep down inside she hates you like poison and nothing would please her more than to see you get it right in the neck.

Is not a kiss the very autograph of love?

Why should people be so helplessly affected by agony they cannot remove?

A song will outlive all sermons in the memory.

He Harris felt the loyalty we all feel to unhappiness -- the sense that that is where we really belong.

Dancing is the loftiest, the most moving, the most beautiful of the arts, because it is no mere translation or abstraction from life, it is life itself.

There are few things more exciting to me… than a psychological reason.

She feels in italics and thinks in CAPITALS.

If this was love, love had been overrated.

If one is strong, one loves the more strongly.

The one permanent emotion of the inferior man is fear - fear of the unknown, the complex, the inexplicable. What he wants above everything else is safety.

Love is the triump of imagination over intelligence.

To be in love is merely to be in a state of perceptual anesthesia--to mistake an ordinary young man for a Greek god or an ordinary young woman for a goddess.

The idea that my sucker is moving through thought itself, through emotion and reason, that memories, dreams and reflections should consist of jelly, is simply too strange to understand.

What's a fuck when what I want is love?

Music is a beautiful opiate, if you don't take it too seriously.

To have her here in bed with me, breathing on me, her hair in my mouth—I count that something of a miracle.

Life will not break your heart. It'll crush it.

Being an artist is dragging your innermost feelings out, giving a piece of yourself, no matter in which art form, in which medium.

War is very sad and small life is pathetically fragile at times.