Best 1500 quotes in «emotions quotes» category

Shame can be an incredible burden, making us feel not good enough no matter what we do. But shame is also the emotion that makes us honorable and kind, and motivates us to constantly improve ourselves.

She faces him, trying to take a breath that's long and level, trying to pull all the slopping emotions back inside so he won't see them in her face.

She found it hard to ignore the uncomfortable feelings that emerged or the delicious smell of him, all earth and amber. Her hand twitched with the desire to run her fingers through his rust-red hair.

She felt as if she had somehow failed him and herself by allowing his mother’s behavior to upset her. She should be above it; she should shrug it off as the ranting of a village woman; she should not keep thinking of all the retorts she could have made instead of just standing mutely in that kitchen. But she was upset, and made even more so by Odenigbo's expression, as if he could not believe she was not quite as high-minded as he had thought.

She felt whatever emotions she felt, but feeling was never a useful substitute for doing, and she never let the former get in the way of the latter. If anything, she used her emotions to motivate her and help her concentrate. The emphasis for her was always on doing what needed to be done.

She felt raw, a painting that wasn't dry yet. One hard nudge and she'd smear all over the place.

She had inhibited her sympathy, one genuine sympathetic impulse would have ruined her.

She hadn't seen a doctor cry before, they usually don't, that makes it harder. - Anita

She had a very inconvenient heart. It always insisted on feeling things ever so deeply.

She had felt good for a few moments, racing across the face of the hill on her old bike, but the happy feeling had burned itself out and left behind a thin, cold rage. She was no longer entirely sure who she was angry with though. Her anger didn't have a fixed point. It was a soft whir of emotion to match the soft whir of the spokes.

She heard something crack and splinter the second he got to that last word. But it took her a second to realize the cracking and splintering came from somewhere inside herself. That thick layer of granite she had carved around her heart had just developed a fissure, and things were starting to leak through. Bad things, like hopes and dreams.

She is a girl who feels things strongly, and though cynics might mock her for that, I never will, as it is perhaps the best of graces: to feel deeply, to care profoundly.

She knows what it is to be sad and miserable, but those emotions are almost enjoyable. They throw moments of happiness and laughter into sharper relief.

She laughed. 'It won't last. Nothing lasts. But I'm happy now.' 'Happy,' I muttered, trying to pin the word down. But it is one of those words, like Love, that I have never quite understood. Most people who deal in words don't have much faith in them and I am no exception--especially the big ones like Happy and Love and Honest and Strong. They are too elusive and far too relative when you compare them to sharp, mean little words like Punk and Cheap and Phony. I feel at home with these, because they're scrawny and easy to pin, but the big ones are tough and it takes either a priest or a fool to use them with any confidence.

She (my mother) could still recite them (the poems) in full when she was lying helpless and nearly blind, in her bed, an old lady. Reciting, her voice took on resonance and firmness, it rang with the old fervor, with ferocity even. She was teaching me one more, almost her last, lesson: emotions do not grow old. I knew that I would feel as she did, and I do.

She’s not a girl. She’s been through hurricanes of emotions, she fought the armies of fears, she passed the trickiest life’s trials. She matured like wine through humid darkness, cold and time. She came out fizzy and sweet.

She was beginning to stir questions in me that I'd spent all my life refusing to ask, since the day I had looked down from the window at the broken body of the schoolboy on the flagstones a long way below, while a master hurried from the cloisters with his black gown flapping in the winter wind, to see what had happened: the day when I was suddenly old enough to understand that I had a choice. I could either do what that other boy had done, or I could spend the rest of my life outside society, where it was safe

She was determined to keep her promise of 'no fandom' to her mother. Trouble was, fandom was more than a hobby, it was a support system. Without it, Liv had no one to talk to when she was lonely. She had nothing to look forward to after school, and no outlet for creativity. Liv found herself spiraling back into melancholy. She got up. She went to classes. She came home... And then did it all over again. Sleep became the escape that fandom had once been.

She will later tell me she remembers nothing after she entered the bathroom. And later, when she has her last day of chemo, I'll call her to see how she's feeling. "I'm angry," she'll say. "I'm angry and I'm scared and I'm mad at myself for not just being happy and grateful." The truth is that you can be angry and scared and happy and grateful and tired and fed up at the same time. I guess that's the gift of cancer.

She would not say of any one in the world that they were this or were that. She felt very young; at the same time unspeakably aged. She sliced like a knife through everything; at the same time was outside, looking on. She had a perpetual sense, as she watched the taxi cabs, of being out, far out to the sea and alone; she always had the feeling that it was very, very dangerous to live even one day. Not that she thought herself clever, or much out of the ordinary. How she had got through life on the few twigs of knowledge Fraulein Daniels gave them she could not think. She knew nothing; no language, no history; she scarcely read a book now, except memoirs in bed; and yet to her it was absolutely absorbing; all this; the cabs passing; and she would not say of Peter, she would not say of herself, I am this, I am that.

Should' assumes that when either willingness or ability is lacking, it may be compensated for by an abundance of the other. This is simply not realistic.

Show your anger when needed; people need to know what irritates you and what doesn’t – but, crucially, remain internally calm. Use your anger only as a tool. Don’t become its puppet.

Si le sentiment est l´intelligence du coeur, l´émotion est la stupidité du coeur.

Simple minded people do things like gossip, lie, spread rumors, and cause troubles. But, I know you're more intelligent.

Since emotions are merely information, there are no good or bad, right or wrong emotions.

Since then I have searched for my heroes among small-t truths. I always find them among people learning the art of acceptance: not acceptance of defeat or acceptance of some inability to influence their own futures, but rather acceptance of life on the planet, acceptance of the grays rather than the black-and-whites, acceptance of the astonishing range of human emotion and human behavior.

So enjoy the exhilaration when it comes. Take the ride to the heights when you get the opportunity. But don't get hooked on the thrill of the moment. Take charge of your emotions. And when it comes time to do the right thing, don't let your feelings lead you to compromise. That is the way to live a happier, more successful life and one that is more pleasing to God.

Social media allows us to subjugate feelings and problems we don't want to confront, like emotional eating or substance abuse, thus perpetuating our problems and delaying our happiness.

Some dissociative parts of the personality, living in trauma time, may experience the same emotion no matter the situation, such as fear, rage, shame, sadness, yearning and even some positive ones just as joy. * Other parts have a broader range of feeling. Because emotions are often held in certain parts of the personality, different parts can have highly contradictory perceptions, emotions, and reactions to the same situation.” * This explains many feelings, emotions, and doubts about the unknown haunting us at times. * Awareness and discovering the inner world may help, tremendously.

Solitude, the joy of being alone, stems from, as well as promotes, a state of maturity and inner richness.

So I'm trying, instead of shaming or pretending, to come to terms with my emotions, and bring them before God honestly. I have come to realize that I'm never going to stop having emotions, and probably strong emotions, because that is the way I'm wired.

Some dissociative parts of the personality, living in trauma time, may experience the same emotion no matter the situation, such as fear, rage, shame, sadness, yearning and even some positive ones just as joy.

Some managers are uncomfortable expressing emotion about their dreams, but that’s what motivates others.

Some people go through the heavy stuff. They fight in wars. They're in jail. They start a business and it gets shut down by gangsters. They end up hustling their ass in a foreign country. It's one long list of setbacks and humiliations. But it doesn't touch them, not really. They're having an adventure. It's like: What's next? And then there's other people who are just trying to live quietly, they stay out of trouble, they're maybe ten years old, or fourteen, and one Friday morning at 9:35 something happens to them, something private, something that breaks their heart. Forever.

Some people are somewhat immature: when they see your ‘nakedness’, they would shout for everyone to hear! Beware of such people!

Some people enjoyed these wild swings. They crested and troughed, thrilled and wallowed, and came out strangely purified. I probably would have to fire Staci for her sensitivity, her excess. After all, she might go on like this her whole life. Or maybe, with all her yawning lows and staggering highs, she'd finally just get worn down. Maybe.

Some people are just different, even in the same family.

Sometimes being overwhelmed by emotions can leave you speechless but even then it is important to identify the correct emotion.

Something inside me stops the moment I see a mighty mountain.

Sometimes, breaking down is the bravest thing you can do.

Sometimes I don't know exactly how to navigate what I'm feeling. I don't know if what I'm feeling is real or right or how to go on around it. I feel several things about one thing and it's a vortex and I get stuck in it.

Sometimes all you need is someone who is willing to listen to you without advising or judging you.

Sometimes in life, accidents do happen; sometimes in life, certain incidents do occur. Certain accidents can be an incident and certain incident can be an accident. In all things, our ability to get a good understanding of what to regard as a true or mere incident, or an accident will truly help us to know how to handle situations in life in the best way, and with an utmost understanding for growth and satisfaction.

Sometimes in life you find love so powerful that you get tunnel vision. You only see the one you love, the one you desire. No one or no thing gets in the way of what you feel. A love so strong which makes you feel invincible in this world. And, everywhere you go, all the people can see you glow.

Sometimes I think, I need a spare heart to feel all the things I feel.

Sometimes, reality is the farthest thing away.

Sometimes the anger directed at another is actually anger toward the self.

Sometimes the toughest of them come with the softest of hearts.

Sometimes, we are simply trapped in the cage of our own emotions, unable to break those bars. It hurts!

Sometimes, when I am sad, I am not sad for myself. I am sad for the world, I am sad to see where we are going. I am sad to see how we can smile by making someone else sad. I am sad to see how we have killed our conscience and keep toying with emotions I am sad to see how people are confusing selfishness with self love. I am sad to see how we have come to a stage where we trust strangers more than friends. Let's fix this, Let's open our hearts Let's listen to them, let's do our bit.