Quotes About Emotion

Far too many companies are focused on the product and not the experience. We need to replace our brain with our heart, because that's often how people make decisions. Studies have proven that the essential difference between emotion and reason is that emotion leads to action and reason leads to conclusions.

Marcela amou-me durante quinze meses e onze contos de réis

Each person is worth the value put on them by the affection of others, and that is where popular wisdom has found that beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

We understand death for the first time when he puts his hand upon one whom we love.

In A Man With a Pipe, my brother observed that although my father had been seen as intellectual and my mother more a creature of temperament, she had often been the more levelheaded of the two. In sum, we miss them as we love them, equally and always.

Ah, Chantal... Now I think I know how it feels to fly on a trapeze.

Then his face changed to a mask of hate.

But Sparrow remembered every word as if the brief letter was a poem or Bach partita. He could stand up and deliver it now, word for word, note for note.

She wanted to ask Kai if he loved Sparrow for who he was, or if it was his talent that was the true attraction. Didn't he understand that a gift like Sparrow's could not be bought or borrowed, it could not be stolen? Did Kai love the person, or did he love what Sparrow's music made him feel? Her own thoughts surprised and upset her?

How did a person know, he wondered, what was love and what was a facsimile of it? Did it matter? Was the thing that mattered most the action that one took - or failed to take - in the name of that feeling?

Castleford looked up lazily. He turned his gaze on Summerhays. "What is wrong with him, to get him all puffed up like he holds a bad wind that needs farting?" "Fate. Passion. The stupidity of life." Castleford drank some coffee. "In other words, he has fallen in love.

Actually, should you ever decide to subject me to this, I think..." "You think what?" "I think that I would probably buy you a diamond necklace the next day

They stood like that, his embrace still holding her, for ten seconds at most, during which she ignored the truth of the moment and allowed herself to savor the illusion of being cared for.

He looked at her as if she had just said something surprising. He appeared almost vulnerable for a moment.

emotions don't dictate choices.

When he died, all things soft and beautiful and bright would be buried with him.

I found myself grinning until my cheeks hurt, my scalp prickling till I thought it might lift off my head. My tongue ran away from me, giddy with freedom. This, and this, and this, I said to him. I did not have to fear that I spoke too much. I did not have to worry that I was too slender, or too slow. This and this and this! I taught him how to skip stones, and he taught me how to carve wood. I could feel every nerve in my body, every brush of air against my skin.

Achilles weeps. He cradles me, and will not eat, nor speak a word other than my name.

It was almost like fear, in the way it filled me, rising in my chest. It was almost like tears, in how swiftly it came. But it was neither of those, buoyant where they were heavy, bright were they dull.

But of course I could not die. I would live on, through each scalding moment to the next. This is the grief that makes our kind choose to be stones and trees rather than flesh.

Later, Achilles pressed close for a final, drowsy whisper. 'If you have to go, you know I will go with you.' We slept.

I do not think anyone can say what is in someone else.

If I had had words to speak such a thing, I would have. But there were none that seemed big enough for it, to hold that swelling truth. As if he had heard me, he reached for my hand. I did not need to look; his fingers were etched into my memory, slender and petal-veined, strong and quick and never wrong. "Patroclus," he said. He was always better with words than I.

And as we swam, or played, or talked, a feeling would come. It was almost like fear, in the way it filled me, rising in my chest. It was almost like tears, in how swiftly it came. But it was neither of those, buoyant where they were heavy, bright where they were dull.