Quotes About Emotion

Because he made her so happy, she said, and for that moment believed it.

I did that on purpose,' Lucille Miller told Erwin Sprengle later, 'to save myself from letting my heart do something crazy.

Listen, she said as if by rote. I love you.

So she told me she was pregnant, it was an accident, and she wanted to know what to do and I went into the ladies' room because I knew I was going to cry and I didn't want to cry in front of her and I wanted to get the tears out of the way so I could act sensibly and then I heard the bomb and when I finally got out part of her was in the sherbet and part of her was in the street and you, you son of a bitch, you want someone to remember her.

Grief was passive. Grief happened. Mourning, the act of dealing with grief, required attention.

The letter is still in my makeup box but I am careful not to read it unless I am drunk

women who liquidated their unborn children, the very magma of resentment on which Ronald Reagan's appeal had seemed always to float.

I love you, she whispered, but it was more a plea than a declaration and in any case he made no response.

Like when someone dies, don't dwell on it

The only thing that will defeat me will be if you don't love me the way i love you

I could picture him gray and gaunt, looking out from an armchair, braving the worst. I knew how he'd be; I knew him. He'd be glad to see me by then, more than glad. I could feel myself wishing it were that time now.

there was a real kiss—a sudden revelation of him in tongue and lip.

Parents don't get to call in and take a day off. As always, the sight of her filled me with such an unbearable ache of love that it nearly knocked me to my knees. How could one small person have become my entire existence? I couldn't even imagine life without her. She was the sum total of my reason for living. Picking

Beneath her Marks and Spencer jersey, her heart sometimes called him darling, and after two glasses of Liebfraumilch, lover.

Nicholas went to choral evensong on the Sunday, and could have wept. They sang part of a Tallis motet and he thought, If the time comes when nobody can hear this sound anymore, it will be the end.

The Bishop was capable of anger, but he was not capable of hate.

To think that Christ gave us so much only to have us experience so little brings tears to my eyes.

Oh, my! Well . . . that

Their love was something which coloured the air between them like sunlight.

At such times I feel I could die for love of her, my little stranger, my heart swelling dangerously so that the only release is to run too, my red coat flapping around my shoulders like wings, my hair a comet's tail in the patchy blue sky.

How can you fly with a stone around your neck? How can you run with a chain on your feet? 'But I love him,' I said. That's the stone. That's the chain, said the hawthorn. And until you can give them back, you will never be free again.

Please! yelled Loki. I am not being noble!

L'amore è l'unica costante in questo difficile mondo razionale, l'amore e la sua metà oscura, l'odio.

Oh, muerte cruel! ¿Por qué vienes a quien no te quiere y rehuyes a los que te desean?