Quotes About Emotion

Veronica Speedwell, I meant it then and I mean it now and I shall mean it with every breath until my last. I love you.

I meant it then and I mean it now and I shall mean it with every breath until my last. I love you.

The wind rose here, as plangent as a human voice crying out.

He'd learned many years ago that the loud and overemotional meant loud and overemotional, not right.

Rejection, though--it could make the loss of someone you weren't even that crazy about feel gut wrenching and world ending.

I would have spoken, had my heart not been in my throat

Hurt is a weapon. Better weapon than most because it doesn't look like one.

You can hold a secret, hold it so far in that it drives nearly every thought and every move you make- your very heartbeat, almost.

Love seems to be something to approach with caution, as if you'd come across a wrapped box in the middle of the street and have no idea what it contains.

No, Mom. I said fine." "It's just your tone." Ah, yes- the tone. The nasty traitor.

Because words were hills and valleys you traveled, so lovely sometimes that they hurt your eyes.

Empathy took the edge off, and the truth is, we need our edge. Our edge is trying to speak to us, and we are too, too good at shutting it up.

What's that about? Love must be more about power than we think, if even in its most intimate moment of expression we think about not being the one who risks the most.

It is one of those moments where there is so much to say that there is nothing to say, no adequate words, anyway, to speak it all.

Grief is everywhere. It's its own being. It walks beside you silently, jumps out at you meanly; pokes you awake at night.

True love, even if just in your head, can make you forget how badly things actually suck.

Dread begins to inch in. No. Dread isn't one of those subtle emotions. It moves in and takes over, and then it drips and hands, like Spanish moss.

It's both harder and easier without words.

He's all right. He's fine," Dad says, his usual line whenever Oliver gets hurt. It means: Go away. Don't baby him. Don't show too much compassion. The other dads do this too. It's some kind of group hysteria, based on some fatherly fear that says compassion equals homosexuality.

Words were hills and valleys you traveled, so lovely sometimes that they hurt your eyes.

And once again, that high, domed sky makes me feel a wide vista of emotion, and once again I could weep at an overturned chair or a torn page, or today, Larry's scruffy beard and the ink on his fingers that I can see from here.

Dread begins to inch in. No. Dread isn't one of those subtle emotions. It moves in and takes over, and then it drips and hangs, like Spanish moss.

Then again, could you go through a colonoscopy with someone and not be wedded for life?

Nash knows what it means to give your favorite books- it's like handing over a piece of yourself and asking the person to understand it, maybe even treasure it.