emotion

In a certain sense it might well be said that his was an exemplary life. He was one of those rare people, rare in our town as elsewhere, who have the courage of their good feelings. What little he told of his personal life vouched for acts of kindness and a capacity for affection that no one in our times dares own to. Without a blush he confessed to dearly loving his nephews and sister, his only surviving near relation, whom he went to France to visit every other year. He admitted that the thought of his parents, whom he lost when he was very young, often gave him a pang. He did not conceal the fact that he had a special affection for a church bell in his part of the town which started pealing very melodiously at about five every afternoon.

Take lightly what you hear about individuals. We need not distort trust for our paltry little political agendas. We tend to trust soulless, carried information more than we trust soulful human beings; but really most people aren't so bad once you sit down and have an honest, one-on-one conversation with them, once, with an open heart, you listen to their explanations as to why they act the way they act, or say what they say, or do what they do.

Always write exactly what you__e 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

I want to write something that means something to someone...the reminds them of what a second, a moment, really is...or that assures them that we are just as lost as they are. I want to write an emotion they are too fragile to let loose, so that my words can do the expression for them, the feeling for them. I want to write beyond the basics and the cliches...I want to write you, I want to write a long walk on a starry night, I want to write an exhale or an inhale...or suffocation.I want to write as clear as my voice could be heard...that is, if I had anything to say.

The melodious song mesmerized me and cloaked my soul in a most liberating embrace I had never known. The emotion enveloped me, and smothered the emptiness.

They say if the love is true, then it__ easy. But that__ false. Love is complicated. It__ sticky. It__ bliss and it__ a mix of emotions. It__ not easy.

I loved him to death. Then I came to realization with how arrogant he was and instead of falling out of love, I fell harder. Every passing day I fell a little harder, a little faster, and a little sadder. I became anxious, obsessive, hurt, and sad. But one morning I awoke to realize I fell out of it. I loved him. I still do. But I was in love with him until the death of the relationship. Now I just love him. From afar. From the knowledge. From the happiness an individual gave me.

I love him. So much. To the point where you won__ understand. You don__ get it because I don__ get it. It__ there. It exists. It flows. It moves like rapids through my veins. Comes with bursts and occasionally fades with the day, but it__ always there. And when you find love like that, you don__ want to give it up. But sometimes you have to and sometimes you have to give it to someone else. That__ the hard part.

My emotions are invisible, untouchable__nvincible even__nd their power far outweighs my own. And so it seems unfair that for all the little I can do to them, they can do so much to me.

Poetry, above all, is a series of intense moments - its power is not in narrative. I'm not dealing with facts, I'm dealing with emotion.

The worst feeling in the world is not losing your friend forever, but rather having patronizing people tell you that the love you have for your friend and the connection and emotion you have towards them is an illness to be cured, a problem to be covered up and hidden away by the power of mood-altering drugs. I used to trust doctors when I was younger... now I've lost my trust in all mental health professionals forever.

The mind may never achieve or express anything great unless emotion plays a part.

Instead of letting our emotions run amok, we can use our minds as tools to build or create realities that serve us better

If we deny the need for thought, Moneo, as some do, we lose the powers of reflection; we cannot define what our senses report. If we deny the flesh, we unwheel the vehicle which bears us. But if we deny emotion, we lose all touch with our internal universe. It was emotions which I missed the most.

There are two kinds of truth: the truth that lights the way and the truth that warms the heart. The first of these is science, and the second is art. Neither is independent of the other or more important than the other. Without art science would be as useless as a pair of high forceps in the hands of a plumber. Without science art would become a crude mess of folklore and emotional quackery. The truth of art keeps science from becoming inhuman, and the truth of science keeps art from becoming ridiculous.", February 19, 1938)

There can be no knowledge without emotion. We may be aware of a truth, yet until we have felt its force, it is not ours. To the cognition of the brain must be added the experience of the soul.

I Couldn't Look Straight In HER Eyes As I Already Know SHE Can Read My Eyes Without Reading My Lips....

In Life, What Would Be Best For You, You Know It Best....