Best 9217 quotes in «feelings quotes» category

We are what we are, Nial, neither as good or as evil as others paint us. And what we are doesn't change how truly we feel, only how free we are to follow those feelings.

We argue, as you know. I don't think she like me, but so what. I say how I feel. Feelings. That's all we have as human beings.' - Tommy

We call them feelings because we feel them.

We came to meadows full of flowers. We saw and realized that they were there, but we had no feelings about them. The first spark of joy came when we saw a rooster with a tail of multicolored feathers. But it remained only a spark; we did not yet belonged to this world.

We can awaken in people feelings like: love, hate, despair ... those depend on them; but pity and disappointment, only depend on ourselves ...

We cannot feel good about an imaginary future when we are busy feeling bad about an actual present.

we choose what we are sad about, we choose what we hate, we choose what we love

We do not know if she collapsed because of overwhelming joy, extreme surprise, grave disappointment, or heavy anxiety that for the next months and years she would live with a human male, because in fact she had been honest when she told her girlfriends that she had given up on men, OR NONE OF THE ABOVE.

We feel Love because we are Love.

We have story-makers and we have writers apparently most of the today's writing falls into the first category.

We heard of this woman who was out of control. We heard that she was led by her feelings. That her emotions were violent. That she was impetuous. That she violated tradition and overrode convention. That certainly her life should not be an example to us. (The life of the plankton, she read in this book on the life of the earth, depends on the turbulence of the sea) We were told that she moved too hastily. Placed her life in the stream of ideas just born. For instance, had a child out of wedlock, we were told. For instance, refused to be married. For instance, walked the streets alone, where ladies never did, and we should have little regard for her, even despite the brilliance of her words. (She read that the plankton are slightly denser than water) For she had no respect for boundaries, we were told. And when her father threatened her mother, she placed her body between them. (That because of this greater heaviness, the plankton sink into deeper waters) And she went where she should not have gone, even into her sister's marriage. And because she imagined her sister to be suffering what her mother had suffered, she removed her sister from that marriage. (And that these deeper waters provide new sources of nourishment) That she moved from passion. From unconscious feeling, allowing deep and troubled emotions to control her soul. (But if the plankton sinks deeper, as it would in calm waters, she read) But we say that to her passion, she brought lucidity (it sinks out of the light, and it is only the turbulence of the sea, she read) and to her vision, she gave the substance of her life (which throws the plankton back to the light). For the way her words illuminated her life we say we have great regard. We say we have listened to her voice asking, "of what materials can that heart be composed which can melt when insulted and instead of revolting at injustice, kiss the rod?" (And she understood that without light, the plankton cannot live and from the pages of this book she also read that the animal life of the oceans, and hence our life, depends on the plankton and thus the turbulence of the sea for survival.) By her words we are brought to our own lives, and are overwhelmed by our feelings which we had held beneath the surface for so long. And from what is dark and deep within us, we say, tyranny revolts us; we will not kiss the rod.

We know: An almost certain way to die is to believe you are already dead.

We learn to restrain ourselves as we get older. We keep apart when we have quarrelled, express ourselves in well-bred phrases, and in this way preserve a dignified alienation, showing much firmness on one side, and swallowing much grief on the other. We no longer approximate in our behaviour to the mere impulsiveness of the lower animals, but conduct ourselves in every respect like members of a highly civilised society.

We live in a world of contrast and it’s sad we are among people who can’t seem to grasp the differences surrounding them.

Well, this is how I feel: I want to live by the ocean but also in the forest but also in the mountains but also in a big city but also in the countryside. Do you understand me?

Well, what shall I say; our inward thoughts, do they ever show outwardly? There may be a great fire in our soul, but no one ever comes to warm himself at it, and the passers-by see only a little bit of smoke coming through the chimney, and pass on their way.

We make an impact on the society, when we express - we can express only if we feel passionate to express - we can feel passionate only if the emotional ingredients of our mind work properly.

Well you needn't have any 'feelings' about mountains," said Philip. "Mountains are all the same - just tops, middles and bottoms, sometimes with sheep on and sometimes without.

We might feel that we must demonstrate explicitly when we’re upset, or not upset. This perceived need may stem from our family of origin, from how we learned to be heard when a simple “no” wasn’t enough. We may have learned to mask certain feelings, or portray feelings that weren’t ours. But as adults we each need to learn to state our personal truth without having to prove it or shout it.

We must recognize that our frustrations are largely due to the fact that we have not learned how to "dance" to a large part of the emotional spectrum. Being emotionally versatile is like being a good dancer. Just as dancers must challenge themselves to master new moves with their bodies, we must challenge ourselves to learn new forms of psychological choreography.

We needed no Shakespeare to feel -- though, perhaps, like the rest of the world, we needed him to express it.

We're all vulnerable. Mix the wrong feelings together, the right kind of bad with the wrong kind of good, and you'll wind up with a total breakdown.

We often bow down to our feelings without realizing how fickle and unreliable they are.

We often hold on to someone who actually wants us to let go.

We ought to punish pitilessly that shameful pretence of friendly intercourse. I like a man to be a man, and to show on all occasions the bottom of his heart in his discourse. Let that be the thing to speak, and never let our feelings be beneath vain compliments

we people at the bottom feel everything; but it is hard for us to speak out our hearts. our thoughts float about in us. we are ashamed because, although we understand, we are not able to express them; an often from shame we are angry at our thoughts, and at those who inspire them. we drive them away from ourselves

We're not... we haven't been writing poetry and sprinkling rose petals and tripping hand in hand under rainbows, Kay.' 'Just because you have Y chromosomes doesn't mean you can't tell each other how you feel, Dylan. Your penises won't fall off if you do.

We’re meant for each other for a moment, but no one knows how long the moment lasts except the moment itself.

We're brainwashed with garbage idioms like "Big girls don't cry". Guys who "cry like a girl" are told to "man up". Or "she's crying like a baby", as if only babies cry, which makes no sense to me, given babies have the fewest problems out of all of us. They don't have mortgages or jury duty, and they get the fun end of the whole birthing situation. The mother is the one who is pushing and bleeding and tearing, and the baby basically just gets to jet down a water slide. I think the whole "crying like a baby" idiom should be reversed: what we should say about babies is "Jesus, that baby is crying like a grown-up!

We're so accustomed to laughing. It's harder for us when the time comes that we can't laugh.

We're taking you to the hospital,' it said, 'you're going into shock. Can you tell us how you feel?' 'I feel ...' What do I feel? I guess that's good enough. I feel.

We stood, separated by space, certainly, in identical conditions of pleasant uncertainty and anticipation, and we both held our heart in our hands, all pink and palpitating and ready for pleasure and pain, and we were about to throw these hearts in each other's faces like snowballs, or cricket balls (How's that?) or, more accurately, like great bleeding wounds: "Take my wound". Because the last thing one ever thinks at such moments is that he (or she) will say: Take my wound, please remove the spear from my side. No, not at all; one simply expects to get rid of one's one.

We tend to think that it’s up to others to respect our needs and fill them for us. But that doesn’t ever work, and for the following reason: If you have a hard time knowing what it is you really need, then how on earth can you logically expect someone else to know?

We suddenly arrived in this very lost and strange city. Somewhere in the middle of the mountains. We didn't know where we are. We were just heading back to the sea. When we walked trough the forgotten city in silence, something inside us changed. We lost a bit of ourselves too and gained space for something new.

we unwittingly project onto God our own attitudes and feelings toward ourselves... But we cannot assume that He feels about us the way we feel about ourselves -- unless we love ourselves compassionately, intensely, and freely.

We were created with more than five senses. Apart from the basic five, we also have the gut and the third eye. The gut being the seat of all feeling, and the third eye being the seat of intuition (foresight).

What do we free spirits want? We just want to think our own thoughts and feel our own feelings. Why should that be a problem for anyone else?

We were both holding on to this thing, this monster between us. And now that I saw it, I could almost feel it hovering there, tangible. It was wrapping its stickiness around our throats - and we were helping it. We were grabbing on to it tightly, believing it was part of us. But it wasn't. It was a thing we'd each created. It was a bad wave we'd caught and it had closed out and was holding us down. All we needed to do was let it pass. All we needed to do was stop grabbing at it.

We want to develop the nation We want to develop the state We want to develop the society, But very few of us wants let the neighbor grow. Then how could the world will grow.

We were riding fast, I got lost in the thought that this couldn’t end. Good things end. Bad things we reminisce.

What ABA has come to signal for autistics is an in-made rhetorical paradox from which escape is difficult: the laughable presumption that autistics can only communicate their feelings about ABA because they've endured ABA.

What? A man who could admit to his feelings? They really do exist!

What daily life is like for “a multiple” Imagine that you have periods of “lost time.” You may find writings or drawings which you must have done, but do not remember producing. Perhaps you find child-sized clothing or toys in your home but have no children. You might also hear voices or babies crying in your head. Imagine that you can never predict when you will be able to have certain knowledge or social skills, and your emotions and your energy level seem to change at the drop of a hat, and for no apparent reason. You cannot understand why you feel what you feel, and, if you are in therapy, you cannot explore those feelings when asked. Your life feels disjointed and often confusing. It is a frightening experience. It feels out of control, and you probably think you are going crazy. That is what it is like to be multiple, and all of it is experienced by the ANPs. A multiple may also experience very concrete problems, even life-threatening ones.

What does it feel like, when you are better at seeing the entire forest but worse at seeing the leaves?

Whatever he's feeling at a given moment is what he's always been and always will be feeling.

what is more beautiful tears, in someone’s eyes for me or in my eyes for them.

Whatever you get out of poetry - take it. take it. take it. Words are better off felt than understood.

Whatever you think again and again affects your feelings and is impressed upon subconscious mind and becomes a part of your personality.

What is their real problem? Is it the fear or is it what they do after feeling it?

What killed people wasn't a bullet, a blade, a fist to the face. What killed people was a feeling. Left too long. Sometimes in the cold, frozen. Sometimes buried and fetid. And sometimes on the shores of a lake, isolated. Left to grow old, and odd.