Best 9217 quotes in «feelings quotes» category

A kiss…. ….. is just a kiss…. Until it’s all you reminisce. (Then the memory becomes your most treasured possession.)

Alas! with all her reasoning, she found, that to retentive feelings eight years may be little more than nothing.

… A librarian hands me a book of poetry – says it'll be my way of staying alone. Most words mean nothing when there's no right font for my feelings.

A little difficult to know where you were with Elinor. She didn't reveal much of what she thought and felt about things. He liked that about her. He hated people who reeled off their thoughts and feelings to you, who took it for granted that you wanted to know all their mechanism. Reserve was always more interesting.

All feelings are fleeting.

All I can think is that it must be a kind of rebellion, To arm your fears like soldiers and slay them.

All I'm saying is, love changes over time. No person is ever perfect for another person

All the bees knew Sugar; they carried their feelings for her with them in their genes, they could sense her from more than half a mile away and would no sooner find her a threat than fly to the moon. But Elizabeth the First sensed Grady Parkes from half a mile away too, and her resulting hum was not one of blissful content. It was his smell, partly: an aftershave, with base notes of tobacco and cedar and a hint of bitter herbs, and his natural scent, which was too sour for Elizabeth the First's liking. She registered him as something to watch out for and passed this on through the realm.

All violent feelings have the same effect. They produce in us a falseness in all our impressions of external things.

Although our feelings may at times seem like a major inconvenience, especially when it comes to our digestive health, when you pay attention your gut can be a source of excellent psychic information.

Although we presume that we act because of the way we feel, in fact we often feel because of the way we act.

always follow the good feelings

Always share ur own words not ur feelings, becoz feeling wo share krty hain jinky seene me dard ho.

Always try to come back to your senses when in love, because that's the moment you become almost carried away by sensuality and sentiments.

Always write exactly what you’re feeling at the exact moment when writing something like poetry or an emotional novel. Put yourself, pour all emotions into your work…make yourself cry, feel joy if you are writing joyful things, feel lovey if it calls for it…just put your heart and soul into all that you do…then you will be a good writer when you can make whoever reads your work, feel." -Nina Jean Slack

A man is NOT weak if he cries. A man is NOT a punk if he cries. A man is NOT acting like a little b*tch if he cries. He’s a Man! And he’s allowed to have and show his true feelings without feeling less than. Ladies, some of you need to do better. Learn to be compassionate, loving, supportive, and understanding. There’s NOTHING wrong with a man being vulnerable. I encourage you to be his joy, peace, and his safe place. Lift him up and be mindful NOT to tear him down. If you truly care for and love your man, do and say everything with love. Let him know that it’s okay to cry and that he doesn’t have to pretend to be okay when he’s not. Real men DO cry! They experience sadness, disappointments, pain, and many other feelings. A man shouldn’t have to suppress his emotions. That’s pure nonsense! A man that can cry, smile, and let his guards down is a keeper in my book. I couldn’t imagine acting hard all of the time. That’s so unfair! Ladies, strive to be a Queen of substance. PEACE.

A man that knows your worth doesn't need to be told how to treat you. That's a given! You won't have to question his feelings, his motives, nor his intentions. How will I know? You ask. See, he will freely show you how he feels and prove it consistently. If you're settling for anything less than what you deserve. Then, maybe you don't even know your worth.

A Man who has never lied to a woman has no respect for her feeling.

A man who under the influence of mental pain or unbearably oppressive suffering sends a bullet through his own head is called a suicide; but for those who give freedom to their pitiful, soul-debasing passions in the holy days of spring and youth there is no name in man's vocabulary. After the bullet follows the peace of the grave: ruined youth is followed by years of grief and painful recollections. He who has profaned his spring will understand the present condition of my soul. I am not yet old, or grey, but I no longer live. Psychiaters tell us that a solider, who was wounded at Waterloo, went mad, and afterwards assured everybody - and believed it himself - that he had died at Waterloo, and that what was now considered to be him was only his shadow, a reflection of the past. I am now experiencing something resembling this semi-death..

Am invatat demult ca atunci cand intre doua persoane este un lucru grav si nu vorbesc despre el, nu vorbesc nici despre altceva important.

An active moral life cannot be evolved except where people are free to express their feelings and act upon the insights of conscience.

An addition that takes time to depart, and sometimes, never leaves at all. A smell, a touch, thoughts, moments, feelings, movements, words left unsaid, words barely spoken; they all have a distinct sense, distinct fragrances! .... A pungent of cinnamon, an aroma of a rose, a summer breeze, a sweet smile like a per-fume that lingers on and on... endlessly.

A month ago it would have been my dream just to be in his bedroom watching a movie, but now it’s torture because I want so much more. It’s like my entire conscious state has been reduced to this toxic blend of hope and uncertainty. I hate that I have to act cool and almost pretend I don’t like him when in fact I do, because, God forbid, I come across as desperate for attention or a little clingy, which everyone should know are perfectly natural human behaviors, after all. Ugh!

An assumption is the joke; truth the punchline.

And after that, I watched our house collapse in on itself and I spent some time lying in the rubble. Then I vanished completely. I wasn't here at all. Then you phoned.

An awfulness was deep inside me, and I couldn't fight it; forced into submission and taken hostage by it, I could only just lie there, let it wash over me, and let myself be consumed by it. If I cooperate, maybe it won't stay too long; maybe it'll let me go free. But if I fight it, it might stay longer just to spite me. So I decided to let The Feeling inhabit me as long as it desired, while I lay still, cautious not to incite me, secretly hoping it would leave me soon and bother someone else, but outwardly, pretending to be its gracious host. The most discouraging element of what I felt was my inability to understand it. Usually when I was filled with an unpleasant feeling, I could make it go away, or at least tame it, by watching a light-hearted film or reading a good book or listening to a feel good album. But this feeling was different. I knew non of those distractions could rid me of it. But I knew nothing else. I couldn't even describe it. Is this depression? Maybe once you ask someone to describe depression, he can't find the words. Maybe I'm part of the official club now. I imagined myself in a room full of people where someone in the crowd, also suffering from depression, immediately noticed me-as if he detected the scent of his own kind-walked over, and looked into my eyes. He knew that I had The Feeling inside me because he, too, da The Feeling inside him. He didn't ask me to talk about it, because he understood that our type of suffering was ineffable. He only nodded at me, and I nodded back; and then, during our moment of silence, we both shared a sad smile of recognition, knowing that we only had each other in a room filled with people who would never understand us, because they didn't have The Feeling inside them.

And finally - FINALLY - after a lifetime of feelings and anxiety and more feelings, I didn't have any feelings left. I had spent my last feeling being disappointed that I couldn't rent Jumanji.

Anger is a legitimate feeling, one often designed for self-protection.

Andrea worked to harden herself to the onslaught of feelings. The problem with feelings was, first you had one, which was generally bad enough. But then you had a feeling about your feeling, and then a feeling about how you were feeling about your feeling, and then another feeling would pop up at the sight of it all, this teetering pyramid of emotion, and all of it would look wrong to Andrea, all her feeling somehow incorrect, too much or too little, too soft or too hard, and another feeling would emerge at the thought of that. It was endless, having feelings. And god forbid someone noticed you having them, as Sophie just had. Then you had feelings about that, about having been seen, and more feelings still about the other person's feelings. Oh, it was awful.

And the world out there is not within our control, our past -even that we keep trying to change it- it's just not within our control to change, but everything else is. Everything in our present experience is within our control [...]. What we decide to think, what we think about, are completely within our control. We forget this. We think that our thoughts are not within our control and in fact most of us don't even know what we're thinking. We are responding to our thoughts that we aren't even aware of. This really matters because our thoughts are what create our feelings. Everything you do in your life is becase you want to feel a certain way. Every single thing you do is because you want to feel a certain way. That is really good to know, and if your feelings are caused by your thoughs and what you do in your life you do it to feel better wouln't it be important to know what you're thinking?

And this music? It was something akin to the masters, not in composition or length, but rather in the heart behind it.

...and yet, though desirous to be gone, she could not quit the mansion-house, or look an adieu to the cottage, with its black, dripping and comfortless veranda, or even notice through the misty glasses the last humble tenements of the village, without a saddened heart. Scenes had passed in Uppercross which made it precious. It stood the record of many sensations of pain, once severe, but now softened; and of some instances of relenting feeling, some breathings of friendship and reconciliation, which could never be looked for again, and which could never cease to be dear. She left it all behind her, all but the recollection that such things had been.

Angels are not beings with wings; they are feelings that give us wings.

Another Definition For Facebook - A place where people can share their feelings and others can like it even if it's a sad feeling or a happy one.

Any feeling, emotion or impulse that originates from the 'mind' can never be suppressed.

And I touch. Not because I want to feel, but because I’m looking to see if this is real.

And there was something so artless in this smile that I had to smile back.

And why love things you were destined to lose? Why let yourself feel things if the feelings were doomed to die?

Any halfway clever devil would decorate the highway to Hell as beautiful as possible.

A performance must capture or communicate with the mood and feelings of that very moment.

Apalah yang bisa pasti dari perasaan manusia?

A performance does not capture or communicate with the mood and feelings of that very moment.

A relationship that is not actively nurtured dies out eventually, I told myself. Or does it?

A person doesn't feel, then act; rather, he acts, then feels. Change actions to change feelings.

A person who is another man's slave is better than one who is a slave to lust.

A poem shouldn't just give melody; it should give meaning.

Are those feelings? Get them away from me.

Are we looking for the absolute truth or the absolute feeling? Or the answer that best suits our personal needs?

Are you all right?" The question surprised Jess, and it broke through his black shell enough to make him throw a look at his friend. "No." I didn't think you were. Everyone wants you to be. That must be worse, that they think you should be fine.

Ariel: "Why do such stories always sound so sad? Why can't people part on more amiable terms?" Danny: "Human nature," he said. "When feelings change and a person is at their most insecure, it's a matter of personal survival, I think. It's not always meant to hurt, but it often does.