Quotes About Emotion

Writing. Love is writing.

The worst moment came when Julie bleated, "Mom, Mom," sounding as plaintive as some lamb separated from the flock.

That's how you recognize love: you've never met it before.

I remembered... It was the colour of your hair. Farewell...Erza. ~I'm Jellal Fernandez. What about you, Erza?(I'm Erza. Just Erza.) Well, that's kind of sad. Ohh!(Hey...What are you doing?!)It's such a pretty scarlet colour...I know! We'll give you the last name of Scarlet!(Erza...Scarlet) It's the colour of you hair! Nobody will ever forget that!~(Jellal...)

But what's important isn't the Magic, it's the heart of the wielder who uses it.

You don´t need a reason to cry. All you need to feel the warmth that dwells in your chest.

Yare Yare Daze.

Despair... It hides away propagates, expands, and finally explodes

The urge to kill is shown by glares, not by words.

You can never love the same way twice

Love is kind of like a car crash... you never see it coming.

I didn't know you were going to be so beautiful, fill my heart..

All I could do was escape from reality, but every time I tried to escape from the pain, that same pain told me that I had probably been falling in love with him.

The silence of the room was shattered with a wail of pain coming from deep within me.

Man vill bli älskad, i brist därpå beundrad, i brist därpå fruktad, i brist därpå avskydd och föraktad. Man vill ingiva människorna något slags känsla. Själen ryser för tomrummet och vill kontakt till vad pris som helst.

Nothing so reduces and drags down a human being as the consciousness of not being loved.

Han hade en gång förlorat "sitt första hjärta", som det heter.

Îmi amintesc din via?? doar iubirea mea pentru tine.

Men jag, jag såg henne egentligen först nu. Nu först såg jag, att det stod en kvinna i mitt rum, en kvinna med hjärtat överfullt av lust och elände, en ung kvinnoblomma med doft av kärlek omkring sig och med blygselrodnad över att doften var så mäktig och stark. Jag kände att jag bleknade.

Gr?dinarului i s-a spus c? doar iarba va cre?te pe mormântul meu, iar prim?vara voi avea anemone. O s? vii odat? o s? culegi o anemon? ?i o s? te gânde?ti la mine. Ia-o ca un cuvânt de dragoste care a fost gândit dar nu a fost rostit niciodat?.

One wants to be loved, in lack thereof feared, in lack thereof loathed and despised. One wants to instil some sort of emotion in people. The soul trembles before emptiness and desires contact at any price.

I hate you," I breathed into his mouth. "I hate you so much that sometimes I can't think of anything else.

I love my parents' murderer; I suppose I could love anyone.

I start to speak, but he stops me with a gesture. "And you." He looks at me, his lips curving in something that's not quite a smile; it's more and less than that. "I knew little else, but I always knew you." And when he kisses me, I feel as though I can finally breathe again.