Emotional Limitation Quotes

Full-blooded romantic love I wouldn't be able to write about.

The problem of the chimps is that they can only sit and look. They can't discuss what they feel. All that feeling is trapped within each one.

I'm just not very good at being happy all the time.

You can't always be friendly. It's impossible, there isn't the time.

What's wrong with men?" Tenar inquired cautiously. As cautiously, lowering her voice, Moss replied, "I don't know, my dearie. I've thought on it. Often I've thought on it. The best I can say it is like this. A man's in his skin, see, like a nut in its shell." She held up her long, bent, wet fingers as if holding a walnut. "It's hard and strong, that shell, and it's all full of him. Full of grand man-meat, man-self. And that's all. That's all there is. It's all him and nothing else, inside.

I hold grudges, but I can't hate nobody; that's not my nature.

The mature person becomes able to differentiate feelings into as many nuances, strong and passionate experiences, or delicate and sensitive ones, as in the different passages of music in a symphony. Unfortunately, many of us have feelings limited like notes in a bugle call.

There are those who have a desire to love, but do not have the capacity to love.

Doctors have been exposed-you always will be exposed-to the attacks of those persons who consider their own undisciplined emotions more important than the world's most bitter agonies-the people who would limit and cripple and hamper research because they fear research may be accompanied by a little pain and suffering.

And the words we find are always insufficient, like love, though they are often lovely and all we have.

The self is too small an object for perpetual enthusiasm.

The belief that a person can and should only feel grief over one sad event at a time is a truly disturbing estimate of our emotional capacity.

The biggest obstacle to taking a bigger perspective on life is that our emotions capture and blind us.

Just because you have the emotional range of a teaspoon doesn't mean we all have.

Love is what you feel for a dog or a pussycat. It doesn't apply to humans.

Your notions of friendship are new to me; I believe every man is born with his quantum, and he cannot give to one without robbing another. I very well know to whom I would give the first place in my friendship, but they are not in the way, I am condemned to another scene, and therefore I distribute it in pennyworths to those about me, and who displease me least, and should do the same to my fellow prisoners if I were condemned to a jail.

I can't write about your pain; I only know my own.

I put a limited time on the blues. I say, 'I allowed myself to be blue for four hours, and now I'm going to stop.'

I didn't think there was any way to convince Jack that he wanted more than I had to give, that to people who'd been damaged the way I had been, fear and the will to survive would always be more powerful than attachment. I could only love in a limited way

What I feel personally and what I can act are two different things. Maybe one of the great pleasures of my job is being able to inhabit worlds that you are never going to inhabit personally.

Yet human experience and the practice of communication have shown throughout the ages that definitions are an illusion, like having a speech defect and trying to say love but unable to get the word out, or, better, having a tongue in one's head but unable to feel love.

It's tennis. I'm still human. I'm not a robot.

I cannot attain the intensity that is unfolded before my senses. I have not the magnificent richness of colouring that animates nature.

That which compels us to create a substitute for ourselves is not the external lack of objects, but our incapacity to lovingly include a thing outside of ourselves