If anyone were to find out—” I began. Patch kissed me, hard, but with an amused glint in his eye. “If I get caught, it’ll mean the end of kissing you. Do you really think I’d risk that?” His face grew serious. “I know I can’t feel you...
Weird how I can feel so frail and tiny sometimes, and other times so brave and bold and reckless and free, and . . . Does everybody feel the same? When people get grown-up, do they always feel grown-up and sensible and sorted out and . . . And do I w...
Dr. Berger: Now. You can live with that. Can't you? Conrad "Con" Jarrett: I'm so scared! I'm scared. Dr. Berger: Feelings are scary. And sometimes they're painful. And if you can't feel pain... you won't feel anything else either. You know what I'm s...
Lending nourishes bad feeling.
I feel best in nature or near nature.
I feel connected to whatever is out there.
I feel energized walking off stage.
The more unsettling the more I feel at home.
Hope is the feeling we have that the feeling we have is not permanent.
I have to feel good on the inside to look glamorous.
If you feel good, you're going to look good.
What is music for? It's to make you feel good.
It feels bad to feel like you're not wanted.
I feel that it's the music, not anything else, that matters.
Mmmm… stay.” Her voice was barely audible, as she grazed her lips against mine and her head fell back against the pillow into a deep sleep.
True love was about letting go. A daily choice. Knowing the worst about a person and sacrificing for them anyway. Choosing to love.
The desperate need today is not for a greater number of intelligent people, or gifted people, but for deep people.
Even though I knew, deep down, what she was trying to do, I couldn’t hate her. Even when she hurt me, I forgave her.
... hurt burrowed deeper than anything she'd ever felt, deep enough to change from the thing she felt to the thing she was.
The older a wizard grows, the more silent he becomes, like a woody vine growing over time to choke a garden path, deep and full of moss and snakes, running everywhere, impenetrable.
My dad had once told me, crimson-red deep in “the talk,” that with sons, all he had to worry about was one penis, but with a daughter, he had to worry about everyone else’s.
