The rules say that to tell a story you need first of all a measuring stick, a calendar, you have to calculate how much time has passed between you and the facts, the emotions to be narrated.
Love is often confused with attraction. Love is an action, it’s a choice. We can choose to love someone. Attraction, however, is a feeling, it’s an emotion, it’s temporary.
Since I am not actually a real human being, my emotional responses are generally limited to what I have learned to fake.
Our emotions can be either corrupted or elevated. Human love was not created to be without premeditated purpose.
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 em...
It was all he'd felt for too long to change now. Maybe it was too late for any other kind of life. This was all he knew. It was safe, insulated. Familiar. An absense of emotion kept him sane. Or what passed for it.
She did not know it, but she was actually in despair at the poverty of human emotions. Was it not irrational that there was nothing to do except weep when ten people died, just as one wept for but a single person?
Be always available to noble pursuits... by deed, thought, emotion, prayer, presence, sharing... or whatever other manner... but always attempt to join the bandwagon of noble pursuits in one or the other manner... this helps to unpack the karmic bond...
The most beautiful experience we can have is the mysterious. It is the fundamental emotion that stands at the cradle of true art and true science. Whoever does not know it and can no longer wonder, is as good as dead, and his eyes are dimmed (Albert ...
She had always wanted words, she loved them, grew up on them. Words gave her clarity, brought reason, shape. Whereas I thought words bent emotions like sticks in water.
I am a fireball of emotions and impulses; my zest for life is unquenchable. And I am either of only two things: Fire or Ice.
...I realized that rewards are not the goal- if one seeks the ultimate it will elude you. The reward is life itself, in its richness, in its sadness, and joy.
We do our job and go. See? That is what Death is for. We work out all our little brains and all our little emotions, and then this lot begins afresh. Fresh and fresh! Perfectly simple. What's the trouble?
I felt emotions of gentleness and pleasure, that had long appeared dead, revive within me. Half surprised by the novelty of these sensations, I allowed myself to be borne away by them, and forgetting my solitude and deformity, dared to be happy.
Recounting the strange is like telling one's dreams: one can communicate the events of a dream, but not the emotional content, the way that a dream can colour one's entire day.
The mind complex is that portion of the individual being which reflects (like a mirror) the in-pourings of the spirit and the up-pourings of the light body complex. It is where we experience the thoughts, instincts, feelings, emotions, awareness, etc...
Memory takes a lot of poetic licence. It omits some details; others are exaggerated, according to the emotional value of the articles it touches, for memory is seated predominantly in the heart. The interior is therefore rather dim and poetic.
We should know and celebrate God with our whole person. While too many Christians neglect to serve God with the mind, others cultivate only their minds and neglect the emotional aspects of worship.
At first, I did not tell you any of this because...you were not supposed to mean anything to me. And later..." His voice became rough with emotion. "Later, I did not tell you because you mean so much to me.
Punishments include such things as flashbacks, flooding of unbearable emotions, painful body memories, flooding of memories in which the survivor perpetrated against others, self-harm, and suicide attempts.
That should have been my strategy! By the time I’ve worked through the emotions of surprise, admiration, anger, jealousy, and frustration, I’m watching that reddish mane of hair disappear into the trees well out of shooting range.
