Quotes About Emotion

Wow!" I say. This is a new Algonquian word I learned from Namontack. Wow is their word for wonder and awe

When you compare losses, someone else's may seem greater or lesser than your own, but all losses are painful. If

Sense is apt to fly out of the window when a girl falls in love.

Love me sweet With all thou art Feeling, thinking, seeing; Love me in the Lightest part, Love me in full Being.

Why, what is to live? Not to eat and drink and breathe,—but to feel the life in you down all the fibres of being, passionately and joyfully.

I love thee to the depth and breadth and height my soul can reach.

It is such a terrifying thing to see a man cry.

I got tears in my eyes, but they were not the crying kind, they were just the kind that show you your body agrees so much with what your mind just said.

hiraeth, a Welsh word that means a homesickness for a home you cannot return to, or that maybe never was; it means nostalgia and yearning and grief for lost places.

She put her hand over her heart. Oh boy. It hurts. It's a real pain. Right here.

If you see a sunset and try to describe it to someone in normal words, all you can say is, 'Boy, I saw a great sunset last night.' But if you are a poet, you give it to someone to feel for themselves. Like you make a little seed of what you saw, they swallow it, and it blooms again inside their own hearts.

For what reason would I lie to one I so love?

I am in agreement with Goethe, who said that every day one ought to ´´hear a little song, read a good poem, see a fine picture, and if it were possible, to speak a few reasonable words.´´ I would add to this the need to love. Without it, the rest is dust.´´

I just don't know anymore. God! I'm in a bad mood! It's like walking around in an itchy coat.

I don't think it's foolish. I don't think love is ever foolish.

I'm sorry! It's just that it hurts so much and it never stops!

It feels strange to see him; it's been a while. I feel as though I need to meet him all over again.

I used to make a basket of my hands to hold a feeling of joy that came upon me, then flatten my hands against my chest as if to make it part of me. Not understanding that it already was.

I am in agreement with Goethe, who said that every day one ought to 'hear a little song, read a good poem, see a fine picture, and if it were possible, to speak a few reasonable words.' I would add to this the need to love. Without it, the rest is dust.

It's not that he doesn't smile; it's that if his smile were something you drew, you'd erase it, thinking, Wrong.

No, love is never foolish. Or unnecessary.

HE REMEMBERS NOW WITH SOMETHING LIKE A FULL-BODY FLUSH, HE REMEMBERS WHAT IT MEANS TO SHARE SOMETHING WITH SOMEONE, THE PARTICULAR ALCHEMY THAT CAN LIGHT THINGS UP.

feels that everything that just happened between them is a pretty illusion, a ride on a carousel. Here is his world: Sadie.

are pinched tightly together, she attempts a smile. Arthur can't help it; he thinks she looks constipated.