Feelings Quotes (page 133)
I cannot but feel compassion when I hear some trig, compact-looking man, seemingly free, all girded and ready, speak of his 'furniture,' as whether it is insured or not. 'But what shall I do with my furniture?'...It would surpass the powers of a well man nowadays to take up his bed and walk, and I should certainly advise a sick one to lay down his bed and run.
Henry David Thoreau
She felt attracted by their weakness as by vertigo. She felt attracted by it because she felt weak herself. Again she began to feel jealous and again her hands shook. When Tomas noticed it, he did what he usually did: he took her hands in his and tried to calm them by pressing hard. She tore them away from him."What's the matter?" he asked."Nothing."What do you want me to do for you?"I want you to be old. Ten years older. Twenty years older!"What she meant was: I want you to be weak. As weak...
Milan Kundera
Very gently and quietly, almost as if it were the blood singing in her veins, or the water of the stream running over stones, she became conscious of a new feeling within her. She wondered for a moment what it was, and then said to herself, with a little surprise at recognising in her own person so famous a thing: is happiness.
Virginia Woolf
I'm losing myself trying to compete. With everyone else instead of just being me. Don't know where to turn. I've been stuck in this routine. I need to change my ways. Instead of always being weak. I don't wanna be afraid. I wanna wake up feeling beautiful today. And know that I'm okay'Cause everyone's perfect in unusual ways. You see, I just wanna believe in me
Demi Lovato
With me, the present is forever, and forever is always shifting, flowing, melting. This second is life. And when it is gone it is dead. But you can’t start over with each new second. You have to judge by what is dead. It’s like quicksand … hopeless from the start. A story, a picture, can renew sensation a little, but not enough, not enough. Nothing is real except the present, and already, I feel the weight of centuries smothering me. Some girl a hundred years ago once lived as I do. And she...
Sylvia Plath