Best 3086 quotes in «emotional quotes» category

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    I am emotionally fluid and safe.

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    I am not a Books warm, but I like Books too much.

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    I can’t help you, I can only guide you, and you are the one who can help yourself.

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    I cried to the Lord. He heard my tears of prayer, from His holy hill.

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    I'd developed an inability to demonstrate much negative emotion at all. It was another thing that made me seem like a dick - my stomach could be all oiled eels, and you would get nothing from my face and less from my words. It was a constant problem: too much control or no control at all.

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    I do not have silver nor gold to give you, but i have a heart of gold to keep you.

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    I don't care anymore, don't you understand that? I am doing what I am doing because I must do it. And when everything ends my ultimate reward is that I end with it, because I cannot stand to be a part of a creation that did what it did to you.

    • emotional quotes
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    I don’t want people to fall in love with my smile, my face or my body. I am waiting for somebody to love the mess I can be and fall in love with my emotional scars.

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    If ever you feel lost, terrified, alone, emotionally and physically drained...when you feel like depression has overpowered you, and that the world itself, has devoured you...just remember that you are not alone, you are loved, you are a beautiful story waiting to be told.” -Nina Jean Slack, Once Lost, Forever Found (Vol. #1)

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    I can’t pinpoint the moment this all happened. The moment we broke. But we did. And it feels like acid in my throat.

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    If I could only teach you one thing about the world, it would be to Appreciate and be as present as possible in every moment. Take everything in and try and learn from it. No matter how tangled things get, there is always a lesson to be learned in the untangling of those things.

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    I find that is the best way to write during emotional scenes...put yourself and your emotions in every single word.-Nina Jean Slack

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    If I was set an essay on Friday, I’d spend three hours on Saturday morning in the library. Was that normal? I didn’t know. What I did know was that I felt less prone to depression and more normal walking through Venice or staring out over the lake in Zurich. At home I wrestled continually with my moods. The black thing inside me gnawed like a rat at my self-esteem and self-confidence. I felt there was a happy person inside me too, who wanted to enjoy life, to be normal, but my feelings of self-loathing and the deep distrust I had towards my father wouldn’t allow that sunny person to come out. When the black thing had an iron grip on me, I couldn’t even look at my father: Did you do bad things to me when I was little? Like a line from a song stuck in your brain, the words ran through my head and never once came out of my mouth. Not that I needed to say what was in my mind. I was sure Father could read my thoughts in my moods, in the blank, dead stare of my eyes. It was hardly surprising that there was always an atmosphere of strain and awkwardness in the house, and the blame was always mine: Alice and her moods, Alice and her anorexia; Alice and her low self-esteem; Alice and her inescapable feelings of loss and emptiness.

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    If thinking and reason crack under pressure of emotional convulsions or when commissioned facts are resulting from fibs and fake constructions, truth may be in great peril. ( ”Blame storming”)

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    If death had a sound, it would be the broken wails of my mother. She's dying, her broken heart ripping her to shreds for all to witness.

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    I have a request to make,my lord." He held her gaze; she could see him trying to decide what she might ask, but eventually he surrendered."And that is?" "Take me to your bed.

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    I have always wanted to give you the world, so I started giving you pieces of the oceans that kept us apart.

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    I have never known anyone to win a battle waged against his emotions. When a sentiment hoists his glimmering blade into the air, the battle is lost before it has begun.

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    I have spent hours and hours watching elephants, and to come to understand what emotional creatures they are...it's not just a species facing extinction, it's massive individual suffering.

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    I know that your heart is broken and I know that no words will repair that. I know how hard that is and I know it will never be the same again. But I also know what kind of person you are and how you deal with life. My friend, love is not how many times the words "I love you" have been said and it is not the long night talks or the going outs. Those add to the value of love but those are not 'love'. A good friend can offer you those. I know, love isn't meant to be easy but knowing what to defend and what to stand for is what defines love and what defines a person you can depend on. No one should use or abuse a relationship in any way. Knowing a person will choose you over anything else. Knowing that you can sleep safe because you have someone who will fight the world to choose you. That is Love. So, dear friend, let him leave because you deserve someone who wants to stay and who is willing to fight for it.

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    I like to see an angry Englishman," said Poirot. "They are very amusing. The more emotional they feel the less command they have of language.

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    I'll love you even when I can't" "I'll love you even when I shouldn't

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    I'll never let it happen. I'll do everything in my power to keep my sister at home. "I don't want to have a civilized discussion. My parents want to send my sister to a facility behind my back and my head feels like it's about to split open. Leave me alone, okay?" Something is sticking out of my pocket. It's Alex's bandanna. Isabel isn't a friend, yet she helped me. And Alex, a boy who cared about me last night more than my own boyfriend did, acted as my hero and is urging me to be real. Do I even know how to be real? I clutch the bandanna to my chest. And I allow myself to cry.

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    I love rainstorms...the thunder, lightning, wind, all of it. So much going on at once, so many emotions...just like me.

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    I don't want to force my mind to love someone else or adjust with someone whom I never can give my true love. #Life Of Love - Film

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    If you feel ashamed about your need for love & support, it's because you were made to feel this way as a child. It's not a sign of weakness to want affirmation, reassurance or someone to count on; these are natural, appropriate needs. Just make sure to be there for yourself first.

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    If you focus on bitterness, you destroy your life.

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    If your consciousness is without form, without quality, and without characteristics of any kind, would that not imply that the consciousness in every other being is also formless? And if they are all without form, how can you distinguish their consciousness from your own? What forms would you use to compare them? Isn’t the observing you exactly the same as the observing them?

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    If you read stories, you find the strength, faith and hope to survive everyday life.

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    If you were to love, love not for the lust that you yearn but the rather the pain that you earn with it.

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    If you were to love, love not for the lust that you yearn but the rather the pain that you earn with it. Remember though that the ones who brave the pain are eternally bound in Cupid's chain. It is these chains that many of us fear. The fear of losing the freedom of choosing for self. The fear of placing the needs of our better halves before our own. The fear is understandable for history has taught us to despise and the society has given us the chance to entice. However, if you were to pause and think ever about - love - then do remember that the chain which upon acceptance binds you in amour is the same which upon rejection arrests us to an ague called lonesome depression. Few survive in love, but fewer without it.

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    I had finally made peace with God and found the emotional freedom to follow my dreams in every aspect of my life.

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    I had never been in love with anyone before in my life, but I knew the feeling when it came bursting into my soul, like a million butterflies swirling around inside of me, like a tidal wave crashing into the shore that was my heart, flooding it completely and wiping out everything in it's path...” - Nina Jean Slack, Once Lost, Forever Found (Vol. #1)

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    I had to sever my emotional cord to escape the anger and shame that silently slithered through my head, disconnecting myself from the stares and whispers that followed me down the hall.

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    I hardly have a typo when I am drunk and texting! But, I will have enough typos when I am emotionally charged with love, lust, poetry and hope, and texting!

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    I hate everyone because everyone's same as others; and everyone hates me because I'm unique. They hate me because I have a heart; which gets hurt every time but at the end of the day it gets heal in a hope that next day wont be same as this one. So don't worry guys you can still use me.. :)

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    I'll make you a promise, Bodee. Long as you're with my family, you won't run out of Kool-Aid." "And I promise you, I'll stop whoever's hurting you...even if it's you.

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    I'll use the blood from my spilling heart to write the words that were never able to slip out of my mouth, so you can see how much you've broken me into a perpetual state of melancholy.

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    I love you, Julie. I loved you that first moment when I looked across the restauraunt and found you. Then you were the loveliest thing I'd ever seen; but now I've discovered how much more you are; loyal and courageous and as true as steel. There's laughter in you and a capacity to love. Julie, Julie, could you learn to love me?

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    I may act like I don't care anymore, but if only you could see me inside, you'll know how much I wanted to be with you.

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    I'm just like the tree... strong-looking but slowly dying.

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    I’m kind of a contagion cryer. You know how when one person starts yawning, everyone else starts yawning too? Or when someone vomits, the smell makes you want to hurl? I’m like that, except with crying.

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    I’m mean? That’s the worst you can throw at me?” “Mean and self-pitying. Does that make it better?” “And what are you, Astrid?” he shouted. “A smug know-it-all! You point your finger at me and say, ‘Hey, Sam, you make the decisions, and you take all the heat.’” “Oh, it’s my fault? No way. I didn’t anoint you.” “Yeah, you did, Astrid. You guilted me into it. You think I don’t know what you’re all about? You used me to protect Little Pete. You use me to get your way. You manipulate me anytime you feel like it.” “You really are a jerk, you know that?” “No, I’m not a jerk, Astrid. You know what I am? I’m the guy getting people killed,” Sam said quietly. Then, “My head is exploding from it. I can’t get my brain around it. I can’t do this. I can’t be that guy, Astrid, I’m a kid, I should be studying algebra or whatever. I should be hanging out. I should be watching TV.” His voice rose, higher and louder till he was screaming. “What do you want from me? I’m not Little Pete’s father. I’m not everybody’s father. Do you ever stop to think what people are asking me to do? You know what they want me to do? Do you? They want me to kill my brother so the lights will come back on. They want me to kill kids! Kill Drake. Kill Diana. Get our own kids killed. “That’s what they ask. Why not, Sam? Why aren’t you doing what you have to do, Sam? Tell kids to get eaten alive by zekes, Sam. Tell Edilio to dig some more holes in the square, Sam.” He had gone from yelling to sobbing. “I’m fifteen years old. I’m fifteen.” He sat down hard on the edge of the bed. “Oh, my God, Astrid. It’s in my head, all these things. I can’t get rid of them. It’s like some filthy animal inside my head and I will never, ever, ever get rid of it. It makes me feel so bad. It’s disgusting. I want to throw up. I want to die. I want someone to shoot me in the head so I don’t have to think about everything.” Astrid was beside him, and her arms were around him. He was ashamed, but he couldn’t stop the tears. He was sobbing like he had when he was a little kid, like when he had a nightmare. Out of control. Sobbing. Gradually the spasms slowed. Then stopped. His breathing went from ragged to regular. “I’m really glad the lights weren’t on,” Sam said. “Bad enough you had to hear it.” “I’m falling apart,” he said. Astrid gave no answer, just held him close. And after what felt like a very long time, Sam moved away from her, gently putting distance between them again. “Listen. You won’t ever tell anyone…” “No. But, Sam…” “Please don’t tell me it’s okay,” Sam said. “Don’t be nice to me anymore. Don’t even tell me you love me. I’m about a millimeter from falling apart again.” “Okay.

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    I'm not talking about the scars that separate your skin, Parker. I'm not blind, I can see those. I'm talking about the scars much deeper than that. The scars that exist within you. The ones you actually try to hide.

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    I’m sorry,” he tells me. I sit down on the bed. He returns to the view of the street below. I follow his gaze and I see the infected walking slowly back and forth. “It’s okay,” I say. “Okay,” he says. He nods. “Good.” He puts the gun under his chin and pulls the trigger.

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    I'm very depressed how in this country you can be told "That's offensive" as though those two words constitute an argument.

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    In Advaita Vedanta, and in many other ancient wisdom traditions, the world is said to be an illusion. This illusion is commonly referred to as maya, a Sanskrit name which refers to the apparent, or objective reality which is superimposed on the ultimate reality in order to generate the phenomena of what we call the material world. Maya is the magic by which we create duality—by which we create two worlds from one. This creation is an illusory creation—it is not real—it is an imaginary manifestation of the one Universal Consciousness, appearing as all of the various phenomena in objective reality. Maya is God’s, or Consciousness’s, creative power of emptying or reflecting itself into all things and thus creating all things—the power of subjectivity to take on objective appearance.

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    In contrast to the silent, accommodating woman, a man who feels powerless to use his voice violates our very definition of what it means to be a man. Consequently, he may then seek to prove his manhood in the most problematic ways: by being tough and aggressive, by acting up and acting out, or by removing himself emotionally from his relationships. He may be in a relationship where no one is going to tell him what to do, meaning he won’t allow himself to be influenced or even moved by his partner. These are common male responses to feeling utterly helpless to right things through conversation or to speak with clarity, strength, and resolve.

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    In difficult times bring to mind my words and the sound of my voice. In that way, I shall always be present for you.

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    In my experience, the biggest reason people struggle to get where they want to be is guilt. Guilt that they have let someone down, and also guilt that they are about to leave someone they love ...behind.