Quotes About Emotion

Love isn't always a feeling. Sometimes it's a decision.

Happiness is something that comes from our own hearts, not from other people.

She loved him, and her heart was breaking. If she had known how much it hurt to love someone, she never would have given away her heart. But it wasn't a question of giving as much as falling.

Can't never go by your feelings. Got to go by the word of the Lord.

And thank you for not putting it in your book. And fuck you for not putting it in your book.

It was Alec who brought their lips together. Seregil's first reaction was disbelief. But Alec was insistent, clumsy but determined. It lasted an instant, an eternity, that one awkward kiss, and it spoke silent volumes of bewildered honesty. The moment that followed was too fragile for words.

Talí." It was the only thing Seregil could think of that encompassed everything he felt right now. Alec smiled. "You called me that by accident the first time, remember?" "Unthinking, perhaps, but no accident." Alec's cheeks went crimson as he declared softly, "You're my talí, too.

Her voice sounded like a symphony after years of being denied any music

The key to having whatever your most divine heart desires—bar nothing—is finding a way to feel good about your Want: not wish for it, yearn for it, long for it, sigh for it, or feel discouraged about it, but just feel good about it.

Whether male or female, there is within you a softness, a gentleness, a sweetness so beautiful you might weep from the feeling, were you to touch it. Aggressive or tender, beggar or billionaire, we all have it, for it is what we are. This sweetness has nothing to do with personality. It's not about being weak rather than strong, a doormat rather than a mighty general. It has to do with you, for it is what you

In daylight, silence is louder and angrier than at any other time. There are no sweet measures of silence such as night's stars, or evening's sunset, or morning's growing light. There is only bright, hard silence and it sounds louder than drums.

He lifed his head and looked down at her seriously. "Could you," he began, then he had to clear his throat. "Could you learn to be fond of me?" he asked. "With enough time?" She looked at him in surprise. It was the first time in all their acquaintance that she'd heard him sound the least bit hesitant. "I don't need to learn anything," she said, before she thought better of it.

There was something so liberating about sincerely felt mirth.

Bad news is still bad news - even if you're expecting it.

Sometimes when you least expect it, hope wiggles into your heart.

Does this ring any bells?' he murmured against her lips. 'I——-' Whatever else she'd been about to say was lost as he kissed her again. His gentleness took her by surprise, and without being fully aware that she was doing it she started kissing him back, just as gently. His hand curved to fit her waist as he murmured something unintelligible, his long fingers sliding with masterful confidence to her ribcage.

He moaned her name against her lips, and then at her temple, and her closed eyes. It seemed to be all he could say, the only word he knew. She remembered how she'd once been incensed by his lazy, mocking use of that butchered form of Bernadette, and decided she had been a pathetic little idiot.

I cannot think of a life without him in it. I cannot bury another son. This time I fear they will have to put me in the ground with him.

After Jimena left, Serena sat in a chair and set her cello on the end pin between her knees. She loved the way she had to hug the cello when she played. She dreamed of meeting her idols some day in a master class or onstage, someone like Yo-Yo Ma or Han-Na Chang. She picked up her bow and began to play. The music flowed around her, sad and filled with longing.

He scanned the crowd for Serena. She stood next to Jimena in silver hip huggers and a frosty top. Rhinestones and crystals sparkled in her hair like stars. Jimena wore a sequin-covered purple velvet dress. Their bodies glowed. He wanted to see a sadness on Serena's face that matched his own. Some sign that she missed him the way he ached for her.

Her first real kiss and he had apologised.

Italian men understand and appreciate women of volatile temperament." "I hate you," she said again, unable to think of anything more vicious to say in the state she was in.

Ever since her childhood, Wilhelmina later noted, she had been afraid that "people would laugh at me if I showed too much feeling for them.

I lower my head so that you don't see my eyes, to deny you the joy of an exchanged glance,