Best 1500 quotes in «emotions quotes» category

accept that you deserve more than painful love life is moving the healthiest thing for your heart is to move with it

A change of feeling is a change of destiny. - Neville Goddard P.g44

Además, las mujeres están mejor preparadas que los hombres para soportar penas... Viven de emociones; no piensan más que en eso.

Adults were pack rats of old, useless emotions.

A fake friend is someone that ridicules your feelings, steps on your emotions and gossips about you behind your back

A face whose emotions had not yet been battered by experience.

Affection is a much profound emotion, which is inexplicable but can be fathomed through our pores. It percolates down our skin slowly.

After dissolution of fears, your mind and emotions act in harmony to help you to make you a joyous soul. You don’t need to do extra efforts to get what you desire.

After years of being taught that the way to deal with painful emotions is to get rid of them, it can take a lot of reschooling to learn to sit with them instead, finding out from those who feel them what they have learned by sleeping in the wilderness that those who sleep in comfortable houses may never know.

Aging masters emotions, but with experiences of aging

A home has more sentiments than cement.

Ah, yes. That. The sin of being happy or excited. According to my father, we must guard carefully against such things. According to my father, these emotions are the equivalent of dancing on out fifth-floor window ledge. Clearly inviting a nasty fall.

Alack, sir, no; her passions are made of nothing but the finest part of pure love. We cannot call her winds and waters sighs and tears; they are greater storms and tempests than almanacs can report: this cannot be cunning in her; if it be, she makes a shower of rain as well as Jove.

All defensiveness and emotional tumult is a fear response because of your need for acceptance and ruthless control of the territory of your safe fantasy world.

All emotional intelligence begins with awareness. When we fail to notice what we're feeling, our responses to that feeling will be habitual and automatic. But when we identify our emotions, we can consciously choose to act on them in healthy and intelligent ways.

All experiences, emotions, behaviors and beliefs, that make us humans, are the creation of various intricate and inexplicable molecular interactions within the brain.

All emotions give us valuable information, and trying to simply clear away problematic emotions equates to denying the wisdom of our emotional body.

All negative emotion originates from FEAR and all positive emotion originates from LOVE.

All laughter leads to the same conclusion.

All our emotions are real, but one has to be quite cautious with what supports their reality.

All those other gestures of sympathy seemed a little melodramatic to me. My loss was mine and only mine. For the others, it was just a matter of words.

A loving mother listens to her children with empathy. She accepts the negative and helps her child not feel overwhelmed by what is going on around them. She is comfortable with her child’s imperfections, and when she shows them this, her child will take her comfort into their personality. As a result, they will become comfortable with their own imperfections, too.

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

alone, drinking coffee, listening to the playlist that include the songs that remember you with the best and bad moments of your life. what a hard emotional moment !!

Altering our distressing emotions is an uphill battle. When you experience undesirable emotional outburst, try to alter the thought behind.

Although my work is to grapple with words, I have no words with which to describe and explain this feeling. Perhaps I write stories to show that in life there are moments, emotions, and events that cannot be explained with words.

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 encased in ice, his eyes hard and his voice like a frosty exhale.

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 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..

A mind can be empty of thoughts but a heart cannot be void of feelings.

Among all the machines, motorcar is my favorite machine.

A man looks like a horse cart. His body is the cart itself, the mind is rider, and the emotions are horses. For an ordinary man, a rider drives the horse cart, whereas horses drive yours. You are ruled by your emotions and your emotions are all over the place and dispersed. -Red White Love: The Love of Liverpool FC

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

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!

A moralist will be unsuccessful in trying to displace his love of the world by reviewing the ills of the world. Misplaced affections need to be replaced by the far greater power of the affection of the Gospel.

An artist who works from impulse creates pathways for his body and emotion; the lines will naturally ride on waves of his or her emotion or sometimes get drowned in it

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 how delightful other people's emotions were!-much more delightful than their ideas, it seemed to him. One's own soul, and the passions of one's friends-those were the fascinating things in life.

And somewhere amidst the storm raging inside, between the twilight of lust and desire, entwined within the whirlwind of swirling emotions, it happened. In one lightning strike, the illusion crumbled. For I realised the naked truth...

and it was the pretending that might explain how she could smile so brightly while her mind felt nothing - as if, at these times, there existed a disconnection between outer and inner, a shutting off, and the key to her happiness lay in warding off pain, or dodging it, or pushing it into the shape of something else - like shame or anger or even hope.

And people turn to internet with the hope that in this virtual world, where real identity need not be disclosed, they will find someone before whom they could be their true self,without any pretensions and get an opportunity to release the pent-up emotions and feel light.

And when their hands connected in the space between their bodies, they realised that it didn’t matter how or where they grew up, or who they were now, because in that moment they knew that home wasn’t a place, it was a feeling.

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

And. They. Burned. Like. A. Million. Bonfires.

And yet from what is to what could be you cross a bridge that takes you, no more, no less, from Hell to Paradise. And more bizarre: a Paradise composed of the exact same material as Hell. The only difference is our perception of the material’s arrangement – more easily understood by imagining it applied to ethical and emotional architectures – yet it’s enough to pinpoint the immeasurable difference. If the reality created by people whose half-mast emotions and sensations disallow, now and perhaps forever, the other architecture or, in other words, the revolutionary re-synthesis, then, to my thinking, only the spirit is free and able to take it on.

Anger... agony... so familiar emotions.

Anger exists to move us into action, whenever action is needed to protect our boundaries, our sense of self, or whatever we consider to be “ours”.