Quotes About Emotion

Ultimately no particular woman had ever seemed all that different from the rest. Until those letters. The sentences had looped around him with a spirit so artless and adorable, he had loved it, loved her, immediately. His thumb moved over the parchment as if it were sensitive living skin. "Mark my words, Audrey- I'm going to marry the woman who wrote this letter.

It was more than a kiss...it was a sentence of unbroken kisses, the hot sweet syllables of lips and tongue making her drunk on sensation.

Her heart beat hard in her chest, until she felt the echo of its pounding in every part of her.

The comb tugged a little too hard, and Win murmured an apology and rubbed the smarting spot with her fingertips. So gently. It made his throat tight and his eyes sting. Deeply disquieted, and bewildered, Kev swallowed back the feeling. He stayed tense but passive beneath her touch. He could hardly breathe for the pleasure she gave him.

Have you set your sights on anyone?" Her smile didn't reach her eyes. "They're all the same. Just like last year." Tom tried to feel badly about that. But he couldn't help feeling a primal pang of relief, his heartbeat settling into a satisfied rhythm... Still mine... still mine.

Dying in her arms … cradled against her as he relinquished his scarred soul to the darkness … Win would be the last thing he would ever feel, see, hear. Had there been any tears in him, he would have wept in gratitude.

It seemed that love was working through him inexorably, more exotic and sweet and disorienting than raw opium. More pervasive than oxygen from air.

Now he knew that it was only love when you knew there could be no end to it. When it was as inevitable as gravity. Falling in love, a helpless descent in which the only way to avoid being hurt was to keep going. Keep falling.

What was she like in the end? The way most people are at the end. Scared and full of regret. The way you are all of the time.

I could always feel a cactus resting softly on my neck when he looked my way.

Her reticent nature had iced over years before. The thaw would take some time.

I do like to write nasty songs. It's a useful weapon to have, and it's cathartic as well, because I create art out of anger, something positive out of something negative.

The feelings he aroused in her were like a complete realignment of her being, right down to the molecular level.

He couldn't wait—not one second more—and entered her with one long hard thrust. He was so careful with her, always, but this time he couldn't be careful, couldn't be gentle; he needed to possess her the way he needed to breathe.

Mike felt a tug somewhere in his chest he didn't ever remember feeling, like someone was pulling at a hook. They were going to take care of this lovely woman. Keep her safe, take her away from danger. And then, well—forget about beating the guy up. Mike was going to find the fuckhead who'd hurt her and kill him.

The rest of what she wanted to say was lost in his mouth. A red mist rose in his head. Fast as lightning, he picked her up, stripped her, pulled off his sweatshirt, pushed his sweat pants down—he deliberately hadn't put on underwear, either—and embedded his c#ck in her. Just shoved it in because he'd die if he didn't have his c#ck in her now.

She made him feel alive after a long time feeling like he'd been buried in the stone cold ground. She made his heart beat again. No one was going to touch her.

His son. That funny creature that looked like a skinned rabbit was his son.

Looking at his dead son must have been like watching a movie where nothing moved. It was not photograph because it had duration. It had to be lived through. A photograph has none of that. This was a story without an ending. It would go on forever.

It wasn't the first time he'd met someone that made him want to kneel, to crawl, to submit, but it was the strongest reaction he'd had in a long time. And she had no qualms about manhandling him. His wrists still ached from where she'd grabbed him, and he wanted to savor that.

While we may love each other and never stop loving each other, so often we stop "showing" each other love.

Out of sight, out of mind. It's how i cope.

Darkness surrounded me, a complete absence of light that left me shaking inside. No. It wasn't the darkness that had me shaking. It was him. I could feel him, even if I could not see him. Oh yes, I could feel him. In every pore of my body, every nerve ending I owned, I could feel him. 

I told you I do not do anything because I have to. And I don't. But to be inside you right now, baby, I have to. I need to. And, yes - right here in the kitchen.