emotional

Sure I eat my feelings, but I save the emotional roller coaster for dessert

My existence began the day you were created and was realized the day we met.

Being a parent is one of the best, stressful, guilty, rewarding, sad, happy, frustrating, cherished, disgusting, fun, ridiculous, time consuming, joyful, maddening, worrisome, hectic, magical, nostalgic, second guessing, warm, cuddly, thing one can spend the rest of their life doing. I wouldn't have it any other way!

I took the sing from your song. I made a bed where you don't belong.

A little inhumanity does not describe you as heartless, rather, it is a way of telling others that you have a heart that can get angry.

This is a dynamic particular to encounters with male drivers, who seem to grow all the more indignant the more completely they are in the wrong. I think the emotional reasoning, if you can call it that, is transitive: You make me feel bad; feeling mad makes me mad; ergo, you make me mad.

This is a dynamic particular to encounters with male drivers, who seem to grow all the more indignant the more completely they are in the wrong. I think the emotional reasoning, if you can call it that, is transitive: You make me feel bad; feeling bad makes me mad; ergo, you make me mad.

Aggression is such a powerful feeling, its almost arousing when your whole body goes tense, hardens up, and you suppress every single emotion your heart can produce, and the shaking, the sweat that pour off your face, the heavy breathing, its almost like getting a rush of adrenaline over and over again

My culture is my identity and personality. It gives me spiritual, intellectual and Emotional distinction from others, and I am proud of it.

I__ sorry,_ he tells me.I sit down on the bed. He returns to the view of the street below. I follow his gaze and I see the infected walking slowly back and forth.__t__ okay,_ I say.__kay,_ he says. He nods. __ood.__e puts the gun under his chin and pulls the trigger.

Her secret fear? Maybe she didn't tried hard enough.

The word felt good, liberating. So, I repeat it. "Fuck." Then, again. And again. Because it made me someone else, someone normal and happy, someone who used words like that, like St. John. I repeated it, over and over until she walked away, wounded. Then, I was glad. And still, I kept repeating it, because that was the only thing that kept me from crying.

You are my son Dantés! You are the child of my captivity. My priestly office condemned me to celibacy: God sent you to me both to console the man who could not be a father and the prisoner who could not be free

I'm just like the tree... strong-looking but slowly dying.

Father, it__ Wistala. Wistala.__ather grimaced. __ou__e a star, Wistala _ I saw you twinkling beneath dear Irelia last night. You, Auron, and Jizara all in a row. I__l be up there soon. Wait.

When you're emotionally weak, but psychically smiling. When you want to be loved but can't be loved. When you try to feel special, but realize you're just one out of many. When you cry about every little obstacle and disappointment. But hey I'm fine

I am metaphysical being, mystical and emotional, skeptical and cynical, happy and boisterous, loud and bawdy, quiet and melancholy, tender and cruel, full of mirth and despair. Inherent inconsistences mark me as part of nature, which is neither cruel nor fair, or reliable or predictable.

I will always love you Drizzt Do'Urden my life was full and without regret because I knew you and was completed by you. Sleep well, my love.