Quotes About Emotion

She clutched her manuscript, carrying it tenderly through the crowd, like a live thing that had been hurt.

Passion, the artist implied, would have been the dominant note of his life, had it not been held in check by a sentiment of exalted chivalry, and by the sense that a nature of such emotional intensity as his must always be ridden on the curb.

She would not take more risks than she could help, and it was admiration, not love, that she wanted.

The face she lifted to her dancers was the same which, when she saw him, always looked like a window that has caught the sunset. He even noticed two or three gestures which, in his fatuity, he had thought she kept for him: a way of throwing her head back when she was amused, as if to taste her laugh before she let it out, and a trick of sinking her lids slowly when anything charmed or moved her.

Ah, don't let us undo what you've done!' she cried. 'I can't go back now to that other way of thinking. I can't love you unless I give you up.

Every step she took seemed in fact to carry her farther from the region where, once or twice, he and she had met for an illumined moment and the recognition of this fact, when its first pang had been surmounted, produced in him a sense of negative relief.

Soul is more bruisable than flesh, and Juila was wounded in every fiber of her spirit.

Each time you happen to me all over again

The human mind is often, and I think it is for the most part, in a state neither of pain nor pleasure, which I call a state of indifference.

Terror is a passion which always produces delight when it does not press too close.

No passion so effectually robs the mind of all its powers of acting and reasoning as fear.

Astonishment is the effect of the sublime in its highest degree, the inferior effects are admiration, reverence and respect.

The object therefore of this mixed passion, which we call love, is the beauty of the sex . Men are carried to the sex in general, as it is the sex, and by the common law of nature; but they are attached to particulars by personal beauty .

Who ever said we ought to love a fine woman, or even any of these beautiful animals which please us? Here to be affected, there is no need of the concurrence of our will.

to manufacture sensations.

his hand did quake, And tremble like a leafe of Aspin greene, And troubled blood through his pale face was seene To come, and goe with tidings from the heart, As it a ronning messenger had beene.

Leaves, lines, and rhymes, seek her to please alone, Whom if ye please, I care for other none.

Gratitude is my chief erotic emotion.

Had he already inspired a passion in some stranger's heart?

for him, music was emotion, and he did not believe in discussing feelings.

I thought that to write of my own experiences would require a translation out of the crude patois of actual slow suffering—mean, scattered thoughts and transfusion-slow boredom—into the tidy couplets of brisk, beautiful sentiment, a way of at once elevating and lending momentum to what I felt.

Je rêvais continuellement, durant mon adolescence au pensionnat, d'un adulte (mon prof de gym, l'un des peintres de l'école d'art où nous allions prendre des cours - qui s'occuperait de moi, devinerait mes pensées, anticiperait mes besoins (car je ne les aurais jamais exprimés et lui, s'il m'aimait, serait capable de lire en moi).

And William laughed with his special blend of mischief, compounded of humor, spite, and sadness in a ratio even he wasn't sure of but that he mixed by feel.

I've always associated reading and writing with sex.