Quotes About Emotion

No matter how cold and distant people may become, on the inside something warm and precious always remains, something that never changes. To me, thats what family is like.

When we love, we are courageous; and courage has nothing to do with being fearless, it's about being willing to experience fear, even dread, to do what we must, without guarantee of outcome

I can smell him. The oils that he uses on his feet, pomegranate and sandalwood; the salt of clean sweat; the hyacinths we had walked through, their scent crushed against our ankles. Beneath it all is his own smell, the one I go to sleep with, the one I wake up to. I cannot describe it. It is sweet, but not just. It is strong but not too strong. Something like almond, but that still is not right. Sometimes, after we have wrestled, my own skin smells like it.

I looked into his good face. Not good because it was handsome, but because it was itself...

At the same time, Achilles answered coolly, "My husband.

A bitter paradox, I thought: to keep his son he had to lose him.

But all I felt was the coolness against my ankle, where his fingers had been a moment before.

Hands, smooth and strong, reaching to touch me. I know those hands.

Such a constellation was he to me.

It had never truly been anger, only fear and sorrow.

I wanted to seize her by the shoulders. Whatever you do, I wanted to say, do not be too happy. It will bring down fire on your head.

Grabé su rostro en mi mente, como se graban los sellos sobre la cera, para poder llevarlo siempre conmigo».

I would untie him if I could. If he would let me.

As I ran, I promised myself that if I ever saw him again, I would keep my thoughts behind my eyes. I had learned, now, what it would cost me if I did not.

And as we swam, or played, or talked, a feeling would come. It was almost like fear, in the way that 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.

But there was something else, less easy to name. A loss, or lessening, that I feared her presence might bring.

A trumpet blows outside. Her hand goes to her cheek, swipes away tears. "Go," she whispers. "Please.

What should I do?" he whispered. The slightest tremor, over the still water of her face. "Do not ask me to choose," she said. And vanished.

I want to shatter the cold mask of stone that has slipped down over the boy I knew.

I hoped that you would come," he said. My stomach rolled, awash with nerves and relief at once. I drank him in, the bright hair, the soft curve of his lips upwards. My joy was so sharp I did not dare to breathe.

My body felt hollow in its relief, as if a storm had gone through.

Aquiles pulsó otra vez las cuerdas y de ellas brotó otra vez la música. En esta ocasión también cantó, pergeñando un acompañamiento con su clara y rica voz de tiple. Echó la cabeza ligeramente hacia atrás, dejando expuesta la fina piel del cuello, suave como la de un cervato. Una leve sonrisa le aupaba la comisura izquierda de la boca. Me incliné hacia delante casi sin pretenderlo.

His eyes were unwavering, green flecked with gold. A surety rose in me, lodged in my throat. I will never leave him. It will be this, always, for as long as he will let me. 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.

If he had looked at me then, I would have broken. I would have begun to weep and never stopped.