Best 9217 quotes in «feelings quotes» category

Set an intention to heal any unexpressed anger that may be present in your life. Go to a quiet place with pen and paper. Take a few deep breaths. Ask your anger to speak to you. Write down the thoughts and feelings. When you are finished, forgive yourself for holding on to the anger for so long.

Sex almost always disappoints me in novels. Everything can be said or done now, and that's what I often find: everything, a feeling of generality or dispersal. But in my experience, true sex is so particular, so peculiar to the person who yearns for it. Only he or she, and no one else, would desire so very much that very person under those circumstances. In fiction, I miss that sense of terrific specificity.

Sexiness isn't being young, hot and wearing a bikini. It's being powerful and feeling like you belong in your skin and it feels good.

Seventeen's not a good age. That's when you realize that you have a heart. That's when feelings get in the way of thinking.

Shakespeare lets us see real people undergoing real processes, with real feelings

Shakespeare is one of the reasons I've stayed an actor. Sometimes I spend full days doing Shakespeare by myself, just for the joy of reading it, saying those words... I do Shakespeare when I am feeling a certain way.

Shakira's music isn't my cup of tea, but the way she moves her hips reminds me of the feeling you get when you climb the gym pole.

Sexual energy is divided into three distinct types. First: the energy having to do with the reproduction of the species. Second: the energy having to do with the spheres of thought, feeling and will. Third: the energy that is found related with the world of pure Spirit.

Shame works like the zoom lens on a camera. When we are feeling shame, the camera is zoomed in tight and all we see is our flawed selves, alone and struggling.(page 68)

...she always had the feeling that it was very, very dangerous to live even one day.

Shame: We all have it. It's that gremlin that says 'I'm not enough.' Or, if you're feeling pretty confident,...'ooh, who do you think you are?' Shame always has a seat.

Shame is, hands down, the most uncomfortable feeling. And, because it produces continuous amounts of inflammatory chemicals in the body, it is also a health risk.

She could not read a book for fear of the feelings she might find in it.

She didn't like to be talked about. Equally, she didn't like not to be talked about, when the high-minded chatter rushed on as though she was not there. There was no pleasing her, in fact. She had the grace, even at eleven, to know there was no pleasing her. She thought a lot, analytically, about other people's feelings, and had only just begun to realize that this was not usual, and not reciprocated.

She felt the familiar calmness of an emergency, but she understood the falseness of that feeling, now that it was her life at stake.

She examined me, she looked at me critically and said, "Why are you trying to starve yourself?" To keep myself from feeling love, from feeling lust, from feeling anything at all.

She goes from one addiction to another. All are ways for her to not feel her feelings.

She glared at him, feeling the old frustration. Sometimes in his presence she felt the deepest connection to him, and other times she felt completely alone-as though any bond to him was her own bitter imagination.

She had not really a sensitive soul, but to put it in exact terms, was possessed by an uncontrollable feeling of mind

She had spent all her life in feeling miserable; this misery was her native element; its fluctuations, its varying depths, alone save her the impression of moving and living. What bothers me is that a sense of misery, and nothing else, is not enough to make a permanent soul. My enormous and morose Mademoiselle is all right on earth but impossible in eternity.

She had the perpetual sense, as she watched the taxi cabs, of being out, out, far out to sea and alone; she always had the feeling that it was very, very, dangerous to live even one day.

She had sand in her mouth and between her toes, the briny wind raising goose bumps on her skin, and the sweetest, spellbound feeling spilling from her heart. She could, at that moment, have died for him.

She knows the rituals, she knows how we're supposed to be behaving...But I think these things are impenetrable and fraudulent, and I can't do them without feeling I'm acting.

She never got a chance to fall out of love, to do it properly, slowly and thoroughly, and the result was he was like a phantom limb. Gone but still there. And like a true phantom limb, the preponderance of feelings associated with him were painful.

She liked him. She liked the feeling of liking him. She felt light and smiley and too full of excitement to think of anything else.

She realized for the first time that two people can never reach each others deepest feelings and instincts, that they spend their lives side by side, linked it may be, but not mingled, and that each one's inmost being must go through life eternally alone.

She put out her hand and touched his forearm, as she would have touched some piece of porcelain or sculpture, just for the sheer animal pleasure of feeling its shape and curve beneath her fingertips.

She laughed softly. "Therapy isn't so much about what I think as you do." "Then why do it at all?" "Because we don't always know what it is we're thinking or feeling. When you have a guide, it's easier to figure things out. You'll often discover that you already know what to do. I can help you ask questions and go places you mihgt not have on your own." "Well, you're good at the qujestion part." I noted dryly.

She [my mother] said, "You are fiercely protective of your inventions because you are your fans." She helped me understand my own feelings. When someone has pulled the wool over my eyes, I feel that they have pulled the wool over the eyes of millions of fans around the world. She helped me to forgive. You can't force people to have the same world consciousness and awareness as you do.

She looked around herself, disoriented, like she’d forgotten we were at lunch. Like she’d forgotten we were even at school-surprised that we were not alone in some private place. I understood that feeling exactly. It was hard to remember the rest of the world when I was with her.

She's letting out her feelings. The scary thing is not being able to do that. When your feelings build up and harden and die inside, then you're in big trouble.

She said, "You may be able to implant an image, even a taste or a smell, but I don't think you can implant the feelings that went with the experience that created the memory.

She had the feeling that the door was looking at her, which she knew was silly, and knew on a deeper level was somehow true.

She hated him and loved him, longed for him and loathed him, and cursed herself for feeling anything at all

She's you, without your conscience, or your feelings. She's you without your humanity." "You're saying she's a mood swing?" He shrugged. "Or maybe you're her mood swing." "Don't even joke about that.

She was an extraordinary woman, and I went to bed that night feeling like I was perhaps more than ordinary myself. This was the effect she had on me.

She was feeling her bohemian oats.

She was feeling, thinking, trembling about everything; agitated, happy, miserable, infinitely obliged, absolutely angry.

She walked in the shadow of Rango with a great feeling of being taken out of herself, of having no knowledge of what was happening to her, merely a pervading sense of flow.

She was feeling the pressure of the world outside and she wanted to see him and feel his presence beside her and be reassured that she was doing the right thing after all.

She understood how a world jammed with phones, email, and faxes could still leave you feeling utterly alone.

She wants to be polite and not hurt your feelings, so she's not going to laugh right now. But inside, inside she's laughing.

She was trying to say something else; she was trying to say that the inability to articulate what one feels in any satisfactory way is one of our enduring tragedies. It wouldn't have been much, and it wouldn't have been useful, but it would have been something that reflected the gravity and the sadness inside her. Instead, she had snapped at him for being a loser. It was as if she were trying to find a handhold on the boulder of her feelings, and had merely ended up with grit under her nails.

SHOEBURYNESS (abs.n.) The vague uncomfortable feeling you get when sitting on a seat which is still warm from somebody else's bottom.

Shivers up and down my spine It's a feeling so divine Let me go back for a while Got to go back for a while To that magic time.

Shooting gives me a good feeling. It is faster than baseball and you are out on one strike.

She was saving up feelings for some man she had never seen.

Shock is a merciful condition. It allows you to get through disaster with a necessary distance between you and your feelings.

Should I ever marry, Watson, I should hope to inspire my wife with some feeling which would prevent her from being walked off by a housekeeper when my corpse was lying within a few yards of her.

Shortly after the end of last season, I felt that I probably would not return for the 1999-2000 season. I also felt that I should take as much time as possible to sort through my feelings and make sure that my feelings were backed with conviction.