Quotes About Emotion

Let no one say that young love is generous. It is selfish and hungry.

Angry is just sad's bodyguard.

I stand back from him. I don't understand. You've seen parts of me that are not perfect, and you still love me?

This is what it feels like to love someone. The fear that they could be harmed and you'd be helpless keeps you up at night. It's a rift in your logic. It turns you from sensible into someone who's inside out.

So begins the exhausting analysis of the cavalcade of unknowable smiles and cryptic sentences uttered by someone your newly interested in. When everything boils down to a succession of enigmatic moments. Moments played and replayed from the perspective you attribute to your lover-to-be, but that are actually from the part of you that's sure you're far too flawed to be loved.

A trembling in the bones may carry a more convincing testimony than the dry documented deductions of the brain.

He loved her...It was noble of him. It was beautiful." -"It was stupid.

Above all, he said, white is a feeling.

The speaking in perpetual hyperbole is comely in nothing but love.

I think love is serious. It's like an invention: sometimes it lies deep down inside you, great and quiet--and at other times it racks you and keeps you from sleeping.

Every man's first declaration of love is bathos--the zenith of his passion connoting perhaps the nadir of his intelligence.

Sex is the ... tremulous and bewildering and nerve-racking and delicious and myriad-adjectived soul-condition ... generally known as love. Ninety-nine point nine repeater percent of the world's literature has been devoted to its analysis. It's therefore of some importance.

Sex is a queer and incalculable solvent of human confidence.

Oh! to be loved by a man I respect, To bask in the glow of his perfectly understandable neglect.

Oh! but your lips were thrilling, much too thrilling, Never before were mine so strangely willing.

I love you, A bushel and a peck, A bushel and a peck and a hug around the neck. Hug around a neck and a barrel and a heap, Barrel and a heap and I'm talking in my sleep.

I sit on the bed. I remember a golden bracelet, thin gold, an apple with a bite taken out of it for the clasp, and the words "I Love You," and I take it out from the box of treasures under the bed. I remember Mama said, "I mean it. Though we never say it in this family," as she put the bracelet around my wrist last Christmas. And I still believe her, what she said about love. We just never say it in this family.

Love is such a magic thing. It can make you feel like you're floating in the clouds without a trouble in the world.

Apparently it takes, like, forty-seven muscles to frown. Flippin' the bird' s a hell of a lot easier.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder, but tequila makes it so she doesn't give a shit if she's fond of you are not

There is no greater hell than realizing you're in love with the guy you hate.

They say love makes the world go around… I been dizzy for a long time.

Love may be blind, but lust is just damn stupid.

Even trained for years as they all had been in precision of language, what words could you use which would give another the experience of sunshine?