Best 2079 quotes in «emotion quotes» category

She never knows when it might strike. The rage. And when it does, she loses her grip on herself—literally. At times, she could swear she sees another self—shiny black phantom, faceless, as though clad in a bodysuit—leaping out of her, pulling the rest of her in its wake. Over the edge.

She wanted to get some personal profit out of things, and she rejected as useless all that did not contribute to the immediate desires of her heart, being of a temperament more sentimental than artistic, looking for emotions, not landscapes.

She wasn't being methodological. She was being autobiographical.

She was too well-trained to panic.

Shift your attention, and your emotion shifts. Shift your emotion, and your attention shifts.

Sin is a fundamental failure to rejoice in what we should rejoice in.

Slowly, tears began to tip over again from her swollen eyelids, leaving sad, pale trails in her ruined makeup, and as always when he made a witness cry, James felt uncomfortably like the school bully.

Sociopath. A label given, and a title received. A definition adorned? Or perhaps a ribbon atop a word.

So, if you're a doctor, how can you recognize that you're having a feeling? Some tips from Dr. Zinn: Most emotions have physical counterparts. Anxiety may be associated with a tightness of the abdomen or excessive diaphoresis; anger may be manifested by a generalized muscle tightness or a clenching of the jaw; sexual arousal may be noted by a tingling of the loins or piloerection; and sadness may be felt by conjunctival injection or heaviness of the chest.

So long as this struggle known as life goes on, there will always be the music to fit the mood and make it better.

Some of us walk around with a necklace of hope, an armour of sanity, but at the end of the day, they always come off. We reveal our naked, vulnerable, real selves.

Some people are as angry as they seem to be only because it's the safest place to hide from more pain.

Some people call me sick and twisted. I feel that I'm neither; I am instead a Romantic.

Some primal force roared inside him, his possessive streak taking charge. He cupped the back of her head, her hair falling over the back of his hand like silk, and tightened his grip. The moment she softened against him, he took control.

Some things are too big to be seen; some emotions too huge to be felt.

Sometimes happiness can come very simply, purely, merely if one is ready to embrace it with open arms.

Sometimes, hope is even harder to bear than grief.

Sometimes he was weird, sometimes he was Captain Douchebag, but he was always my best friend.

Sometimes I grow so tired of speaking my emotions to you. I open my mouth and dust spills out instead of feelings.

Sometimes, I recall the little things in life that make the journey more joyful, like the cheerful guy playing the accordion in Paris, on the way to Versailles. Of course everyone has their own perspective, but I believe that music does indeed provide more substance to life, so I dare imagine that one day I could walk through life as in a movie scene, with a soundtrack accompanying and enriching my every emotion, slowly dancing a tango towards one of those "and then they lived happily ever after" endings.

Sometimes in the great soundtrack of our lives there are no words, there are only emotions; I believe this is why God gave us classical music.

Sometimes the best way to deal with a breakup is to declare emotional bankruptcy.

Spiritual highs help you overcome emotional lows.

Sometimes the person you'd take a bullet for is the person behind the trigger.

Sometimes you are more comfortable with a person who gets close without coming close.

Speaking a painful truth should be done only in love - like wielding a sword with no hilt - it should pain oneself in direct proportion to the amount of force exerted.

Spirituality is more a feeling, an emotion deep within your heart that rises to tell the mind that there is something ethereal in the surroundings.

Stay away from people who drive your emotions crazily. Find a better company!

Stendhal knows the source of his greatest happiness and his worst misery: the reflexivity of his spiritual life. When he loves, enjoys beauty, feels free and unconstrained, he realizes not only the bliss of these feelings but, at the same time, the happiness of being aware of this happiness. But now that he ought to be completely absorbed by his happiness and feel redeemed from all his limitations and inadequacies, he is still full of problems and doubts: Is that the whole story?—he asks himself. Is that what they call love? Is it possible to love, to feel, to be delighted and yet to observe oneself so coolly and so calmly? Stendhal’s answer is by no means the usual one, which assumes the existence of an insurmountable gulf between feeling and reason, passion and reflexion, love and ambition, but is based on the assumption that modern man simply feels differently, is enraptured and enthusiastic differently from a contemporary of Racine or Rousseau. For them, spontaneity and reflexivity of the emotions were incompatible, for Stendhal and his heroes they are quite inseparable; none of their passions is so strong as the desire to be constantly calling themselves to account for what is going on inside them. Compared with the older literature, this self consciousness implies just as profound a change as Stendhal’s realism, and the overcoming of classical-romantic psychology is just as strictly one of the preconditions of his art as the abolition of the alternative between the romantic escape from the world and the anti-romantic belief in the world.

Terror and rapture to Emily Dickinson are alternative words for "transport".

Storytelling is inherently dangerous. Consider a traumatic event in your life. Think about how you experienced it. Now think about how you told it to someone a year later. Now think about how you told it for the hundredth time. It's not the same thing. Most people think perspective is a good thing: you can figure out characters' arcs, you can apply a moral, you can tell it with understanding and context. But this perspective is a misrepresentation: it's a reconstruction with meaning, and as such bears little resemblance to the event.

Struggle is a prerequisite to surrender.

Suppose that we agree that the two atrocities can or may be mentioned in the same breath. Why should we do so? I wrote at the time (The Nation, October 5, 1998) that Osama bin Laden 'hopes to bring a "judgmental" monotheism of his own to bear on these United States.' Chomsky's recent version of this is 'considering the grievances expressed by people of the Middle East region.' In my version, then as now, one confronts an enemy who wishes ill to our society, and also to his own (if impermeable religious despotism is considered an 'ill'). In Chomsky's reading, one must learn to sift through the inevitable propaganda and emotion resulting from the September 11 attacks, and lend an ear to the suppressed and distorted cry for help that comes, not from the victims, but from the perpetrators. I have already said how distasteful I find this attitude. I wonder if even Chomsky would now like to have some of his own words back? Why else should he take such care to quote himself deploring the atrocity? Nobody accused him of not doing so. It's often a bad sign when people defend themselves against charges which haven't been made.

Take lightly what you hear about individuals. We need not distort trust for our paltry little political agendas. We tend to trust soulless, carried information more than we trust soulful human beings; but really most people aren't so bad once you sit down and have an honest, one-on-one conversation with them, once, with an open heart, you listen to their explanations as to why they act the way they act, or say what they say, or do what they do.

Tears have always been easier to shed than explain.

Tell me what's emotion… and what's like… both words what do they mean?

That flag is a symbol we attach our emotions to, but it isn't the emotion itself and it isn't the thing we really care about. Sometimes we don't even realize what we really care about, because we get so distracted by the symbols.

That's the truth about people with obsessively organised plans: we're not trying to control everything in our lives. We're trying to block out the things we can't.

That was what drew him to machines. They followed algorithms, not emotion; when Bruce pushed his foot down on the pedal, the car only responded in one way.

Take a quick inventory: “How do I feel? Is my energy level low; am I sleep deprived or worried about a few things in particular? What is on my mind (job, kids, health, finances, politics)? Am I hungry, hangry (low blood sugar levels), or did I just get up on the wrong side of the bed?” All these things, though seemingly inconsequential, really can influence how you feel physically, mentally, and emotionally, and how you react to what’s to come.

Talking about abstract things is important. Having big, wild conversations about concepts like art, music, time travel, and dreams makes it much easier when you’ll eventually need to talk about things like anger, sadness, pain, and love.

Telling a person who is depressed to have positive thoughts is the same as telling a sick person not to be sick. It doesn’t work.

Thank you so much for having the bravery to do this." There's that word again. Bravery. Brave peoples' legs don't shake. Brave people don't feel like puking. Brave people sure don't have to remind themselves how to breathe if they think about that night too hard. If bravery is a medical condition, everybody's misdiagnosed me.

That is the worst thing about despair: it is not constant, any more than love is.

The age can be impressed. Anything will be accepted by men if you will but preach it with tremendous enthusiasm, emotion, persuasionnergy and living earnestness.

The answer comes for those who look for it with emotion. For some, the problem is a disguised solution.

The author points out that novices to total war, and this Hitler and the British press have in common, overreact to daily events and lose sight of overall strategy.

The age of reason may have had its golden age, but the age of emotion endures forever.

The appreciation of birds, indeed the appreciation of all the phenomena of spring, cannot be dissociated from the accumulations of memory. The appearance of a familiar bird immediately awakens a train of forgotten associations, and this makes each spring transcend its predecessor. The interest accumulates and is compounded. The first yellow-throated warbler next year will be the more meaningful to me as it brings back that moment in the woods opposite Dyke. For one remembers clearly enough the fact of such a moment, but only an evocative sight or sound or smell can bring back the full emotion. The person who sees the bird for the first time cannot know what moves me.

The author, at the time a Carter speechwriter in the 1980 campaign, showed visible distress at his boss's performance and was warned by a friend in the traveling press, lest he become the story.