Best 9217 quotes in «feelings quotes» category

Writing feels safer somehow. I can catch myself before I say the wrong thing.

yes, I have feelings and no, I’m not afraid of them not even the shadowy ones that you’d rather ignore i gather them in welcome them home give them space to breathe and light them on glorious fire just to see what might be illuminated while they burn

Yimello,' said Bernard finally, breaking the silence. 'Gesundheit?' I asked. 'It's a name for one of the colors that's invisible to us. Yimello," said Bernard. "There could also be glowl and novaly and replitz." 'Yes.' I nodded, stunned the kid could actually string together so many words at once. 'And, uh, don't forget the beautiful grynn, the luminous dulloff, or the subtle winooze.' Bernard's face lit up. He stood and started pacing the room, speaking quickly. 'Or salty, and insomnia, and carefree, and talkative, and lonely, and burnt, and punctual.' 'Some of my favorite colors,' I agreed, nodding. 'We could paint this room whisper. Or zigzag. Or maybe a nice shade of ignored and invisible.

You are a masterpiece. A painting. A poem. A song. A statue. A work of art. Think of yourself that way. Embrace yourself that way. Honor yourself that way. In doing so you are honoring Him who made you. But you don't feel like a masterpiece/ Thats ok because I'm not talking about your emotions. I'm talking about you. Those feelings are real, but in a sense, they are irrelevant because they don't change the facts. You are a masterpiece whether you feel like one or not. You may feel like a failure, but God says you are his workmanship, created n Christ Jesus for good works. Thats the reality you need to focus on when your feelings tell you something else. God will raise your feelings up to your destiny, don't lower your destiny down to your feelings.

you are here. the moontides are here. and that’s all that matters.

You are not just a chapter rather the book of my life

You aren't battling your ability to stick to a diet, execute a business plan, repair a broken marriage and rebuild your life, hit your goals, or win over a bad manager- you are battling your feelings about doing it. You are more than capable of doing the work to change anything for the better, despite how you feel. Feelings are merely suggestions, ones you can ignore. To change you must do the same, you must ignore how you feel, and just do it anyway.

You are on your back at the foot of an aspen. In its trembling shade. She at right angles propped on her elbows head between her hands. Your eyes opened and closed have looked in hers looking in yours. In your dark you look in them again. Still. You feel on your face the fringe of her long black hair stirring in the still air. Within the tent of hair your faces are hidden from view. She murmurs, Listen to the leaves. Eyes in each other's eyes you listen to the leaves. In their trembling shade.

You are not your brain. You are not your thoughts. You are not your feelings. You are not your money. You are not your home. You are not your team. You are not your body. You are not your strength. You are not your intelligence. You are not your business. You are not your work. You are not your posts. You are not your likes. You are not your views. You are not your subs. You are much better than that. Repeat.

You are the ocean to my eyes.

You are Timeless Being and Awareness...You are not touched by any of this.

you brought other people close. look at me, i am still the same i was before ; having just two best friends in my case. and you are not happy with me. you hold grudges. So then free yourself. Remove this tag of best friend and feel free.

You ask me what it feels like to have wings. I can only tell you the feeling with words. And words have neither feelings nor wings. Words are leaky vessels into which a cargo of meaning and emotion are placed, and when they leave you and reach the farther shore of another mind a considerable portion of that cargo has been lost at sea. Fallen overboard, gone to rot, consumed by vermin, decayed to a state unlike its original form.

You can change your mood everyday but not with your feelings

You can experience the same thing over and over again but how you feel about it will never be the same as the first.

You can have regret from yesterday, fear tomorrow, but peace today by sharing your heart’s deepest feelings. A life spent being fearful of showing your soul is a life not worth living.

You can miss places. You can miss people. Just know that what you’re really missing is the way things were. And even if you could go there again…. see them again…. you can’t go back. They’re not the same. You’re not the same. The loss of them changed you.

You cannot prove to yourself that you love God by examining your feelings toward Him. They are indefinite and they fluctuate. But just as far as you obey Him, just so far, depend upon it; you love Him. It is not natural to us sinful, ungrateful beings to prefer His pleasure to our own or to follow His way instead of our own way, and nothing, nothing but love of Him can or does make us obedient to Him.

You can't go around feeling too much.

You can't treat people's feelings as thought they were items on a marketplace.

You can’t truly heal from a loss until you allow yourself to really FEEL the loss.

You can't tell a cat what his heart should feel.

You clobber Death when he's breathing in your ear and see how you feel about the club.

You care so much for that special person because it feels like that person is part of you.

You don’t have any control over anyone’s feelings. You can’t make your parents feel proud of you. You can’t make anyone like you. You can’t make anyone love you. You can make it easier for them, by sacrificing your time and energy, but you cannot MAKE THEM, you can only make it easier for them— and yet again, what have you gained? Nothing. You’re gambling. Putting trust coins into a slot machine hoping that love comes out.

You do not know what is better before you have tried what is worse.

You don’t create your thoughts, but you choose your thoughts. To pick the right thoughts at a right time is what wisdom is all about.

You don’t need them. It’s that simple. But for some reason it’s complex. It’s difficult. It’s dangerous. We can’t seem to fathom it.

You despise the real bourgeois classes for all their snobbishness and their snobbish voices and ways. You do, don't you? Yet all you put in their place is a horrid little refusal to have nasty thoughts or do nasty things or be nasty in any way. Do you know that every great thing in the story of art and every beautiful thing in life is actually what you call nasty or has been caused by feelings that you would call nasty? By passion, by love, by hatred, by truth. Do you know that?

You don’t have to say anything.” He sat back in his chair. “I won’t. As always, words fail when you most want to say the right thing.” “People think they have to say something, and it never makes me feel better.

You don’t know how I feel about you? I try to show you how much I care about you every day. How can you not see that?

You don't need to live in a mansion to be happy. All you need is to create the right space, something that says this is who you are, and you can always change who you are, just as you change your environment.

You fell in love with her when she couldn't love herself. You loved her wide brown eyes that resembled the color of pure honey, and her big plump lips that were perfect enough to kiss. You loved her voice when she called your name because she couldn't fall asleep, and the silence of it all when she was long gone in her dreams. You taught her to love herself; head, toe, and everything in between. Her body, her mind and soul. Let nothing intervene.

You hate him for turning you inside of yourself. You are still getting used to looking at your body in the light.

You have one mind, but many thoughts; one heart, but many feelings; one soul, but many experiences; and one life, but many breaths.

...you have not only a very large portion of my affection and esteem, but all that I am capable of feeling...

You have no choice about how you feel about this. Your only choice is whether to feel it now or later." Although her comment helped a little at first, during the next twenty-five years I would keep discovering that how much I was able to feel, or not, and when, was not a matter of choice.

You have to feel. Otherwise you end up like the piano teacher.

You don't have to apologize for your feelings. You can't make yourself fall in love with somebody.

You don't have to be a poet to express you feelings to her, just say whats in your mind and she will relate.

You inspire, you put a smile on someone's face, you make someone laugh or deeply touch a person's heart. We all have that in ourselves no matter how tough our journeys are.

You keep asking me about my past lovers and whether I still have feelings for them. You become upset when I don’t keep a straight face. Yet, it is not my fault. I can’t help but smile when I think about later tonight and how my fingers will through comb your hair.

You know it’s true.” “Even if it is,” I cried, “what does it matter? You could sleep with anybody, Wesley. So what if I walk away? So what if I have feelings for you? I was just a screw to you! You would never actually commit to me. You could never commit to anyone, but especially not to Duffy. You don’t even find me attractive.” “Bullshit,” he growled, his eyes on my face as he moved closer to me again. He was so close. My back was pressed to the wall, and Wesley stood only inches away. It had only been a week, but it felt like ages since we’d been in this kind of proximity. A shiver ran up my spine as I remembered the way his hands felt on me. The way he’d always made me feel wanted, even if he had called me the Duff. Did he? Did he find me attractive despite the nickname? How? Why? “Then why would you call me that?” I whispered. “Do you know how much it hurts? Every time you call me Duffy, do you know how shitty it makes me feel?” Wesley looked surprised. “What?” “Every time you call me that,” I said, “you’re telling me how little you think of me. How ugly I am. God, how can you possibly find me attractive when you put me down all the time.” I hissed the last words through gritted teeth. “I didn’t-” His eyes fell, staring at his shoes for a moment. I could tell he felt guilty. “Bianca, I’m sorry.” He looked into my eyes again. “I didn’t mean-” His hand reached out to touch me. “Don’t,” I snapped, shrugging away from him. I slid to the side and stepped away from the wall. I wasn’t going to be cornered. I wasn’t going to let him have the power here. “Just stop, Wesley.” It didn’t matter if some part of him found me attractive. That didn’t change things. I was just another girl he’d slept with. One among many. “I didn’t mean anything to you,” I told him. “Then why am I here?” he demanded, turning to face me again. “Why the hell am I here, Bianca?

You know, sometimes it's nice to just have someone to blame, even if it has to be yourself, even if it doesn't make sense.

You know how it is when you arrive in a new place and feel like you don't belong there? That hesitation to recon with a new geography. That knowledge that this place is not mine, these ways of talking are not mine, these silences are not mine, this etiquette is not mine.So many new things to absorb. And the place also takes a little time to accept the new person. Often you have to meet the place on its own terms. Sometimes you have to work hard to earn your little corner in it. Till that place become yours, till you find your own equilibrium, there will be a gap between you and the place.

You know, it's never wise to tempt the devil" His gaze lowered to her hand, still locked in his grip, her finger glistening with pear juice. His rich voice lowered to raw huskiness "had I not this mask, I should be of a mind to suck that juice right off your fingers

You know what he taught me? He taught me to feel more. He taught me to give myself over to feelings. And now that's all I have. I'm swamped by them. I can't breathe because I feel so damn much.

You make it sound so terrible. There’s nothing wrong with crying. Tears are healing. They help you drain out the sorrow and anguish, so you can start filling yourself with more positive emotions, when you’re ready.

You make me love books and the words inside them, because they talk about you. I know they do, they tell me that I love you, not as cliché as I write it, but in the warmest, deepest, calmest words I could ever read. I love you, like the books say it. And I'll find a better way to say it one day.

You may not understand my words, but you will know my feelings when it does matters.