Quotes about Emotions

I suppose all great happiness is a little sad. Beauty means the scent of roses and then the death of roses—

I'm more beautiful than anybody else," she said brokenly, "why can't I be happy?

It was astonishing to think that life had once been the sum of her current love-affairs. It was now the sum of her current problems.

I wasn't actually in love, but I felt a sort of tender curiosity. The bored haughty face that she turned to the world concealed something- most affectations conceal something eventually, even though they don't in the beginning

With the awakening of his emotions, his first perception was a sense of futility, a dull ache at the utter grayness of his life.

Again at eight o'clock, when the dark lanes of the Forties were five deep with throbbing taxicabs, bound for the theater district, I felt a sinking in my heart. Forms leaned together in the taxis as they waited, and voices sang, and there was laughter from unheard jokes, and lighted cigarettes outlined unintelligible gestures inside. Imagining that I, too, was hurrying toward gayety and sharing their intimate excitement, I wished them well.

All life was transmitted into terms of their love, all experience, all desires, all ambitions, were nullified - their senses of humour crawled into corners to sleep;

He used to think that he wanted to be goos, he wanted to be kind, he wanted to be brave and wise, but it was all pretty difficult. He wanted to be loved, too, if he could fit it in.

He desired her and, so far as her virginal emotions went, she contemplated a surrender with equanimity. Yet she knew she would forget him half an hour after she left him - like an actor kissed in a picture.

Goodnight, child. This is a damn shame. Let's drop it out of the picture. He gave her two lines of hospital patter to go to sleep on. So many people are going to love you and it might be nice to meet your first love all intact, emotionally too. That's an old-fashioned idea, isn't it?

Similarly we are seldom sorry for those who need and crave our pity--we reserve this for those who, by other means, make us exercise the

Back at two o'clock in the Roi George corridor the beauty of Nicole had been the beauty of Rosemary as the beauty of Leonardo's girl was to that of the girl of an illustrator. Dick moved on through the rain, demoniac and frightened, the passions of many men inside him and nothing simple that he could see.