Quotes About Emotion

Love will fly if held too lightly, love will die if held too tightly.

I like to cry. After I cry hard it's like it's morning again and I'm starting the day over.

One day you discover you are alive. Explosion! Concussion! Illumination! Delight! You laugh, you dance around, you shout. But, not long after, the sun goes out. Snow falls, but no one sees it, on an August noon.

Some people turn sad awfully young. No special reason, it seems, but they seem almost to be born that way. They bruise easier, tire faster, cry quicker, remember longer.

Those women like to see their tongues dance.

I mean, you don't just love people, you must LOVE them with exclamation points.

Memory is an illusion, nothing more. It is a fire that needs constant tending.

Her cheeks glowed with pink charcoals.

There must be something in books, things we can't imagine, to make a woman stay in a burning house, there must be something there. You don't stay for nothing. I don't know what it is. I'm so damned unhappy, I'm so mad, and I don't know why I feel like I'm putting on weight, I feel fat. I feel like I've been saving up a lot of things, and don't konw what. I might even start reading books.

The multicolored or grey lights touching their faces, but never really touching them...

Love is the answer to everything. It's the only reason to do anything. If you don't write stories you love, you'll never make it. If you don't write stories that other people love, you'll never make it.

It was a simple thing. All terror is a simplicity. (Interval In Sunlight)

I'm the thing you most desire, you represent the thing I least desire, death. It's just the opposite of love.

It shouldn't work. It shouldn't be magic. You shouldn't weep happy and then sad and then happy again. But you do. And I do. And we all do.

Millie? Does the White Clown love you?

The scythe fell and lay in the grass like a lost smile.

I'm seventeen and I'm crazy.

Feel," said Driscoll, his hands and arms out loosely. "Remember how you used to run when you were a kid, and how the wind felt. Like feathers on your arms. You ran and thought any minute you'd fly, but you never quite did.

He balanced in space with the book in his sweating cold fingers.

And just holding her hand would be good. Can you understand that? Do you know that holding someone's hand can be `the' thing? Such a thing that your hands move while not moving. You can remember a thing like that, rather than any other thing about a night, all your life. Just holding hands can mean more, I believe it. When everything is repeated, and over, and familiar, it's the first things rather than the last that count.

It doesn't matter if being so alive kills a man; it's better to have the quick fever every time.

when a man talks from his heart, in his moment of truth, he speaks poetry.

And when he died, I suddenly realized I wasn't crying for him at all, but for the things he did. I cried because he would never do them again

Come on, get up, get up, you can't just sit! But he was still crying and that had to be finished.