Emotions and Feelings

There is no pleasure to me without communication; there is not so much as a sprightly thought comes into my mind but I grieve that I have no one to tell it to.

The hearts of small children are delicate organs. A cruel beginning in this world can twist them into curious shapes.

Childhood is Last Chance Gulch for happiness. After that, you know too much.

But childhood, prolonged, cannot remain a fairyland. It becomes a hell.

The hell to be endured hereafter, of which theology tells, is no worse than the hell we make for ourselves in this world by habitually fashioning our characters in the wrong way.

Most of us are about as eager to be changed as we were to be born, and go through our changes in a similar state of shock.

Nobody knows what the cause is, Though some pretend they do; It’s like some hidden assassin Waiting to strike at you.

A businessman is a hybrid of a dancer and a calculator.

In the business world, the rearview mirror is always clearer than the windshield.

A healthy male adult bore consumes each year one and a half times his own weight in other people’s patience.

I am one of those unhappy persons who inspire bores to the highest flights of their art.

I am never bored anywhere; being bored is an insult to oneself.

By bedside and easy chair, books promise a cozy, swift, and silent release from this world into another, with no current involved but the free and scarcely detectable crackle of brain cells.

as some savage tribes determine the power of muskets by their recoil; that being considered best which fairly prostrates the purchaser.

The spirituals and the blues were not created out of sweet deceit. Spirituals and blues contain sublimated bitterness and humility, pathos and bewilderment.

The spirituals and the blues were not created out of sweet deceit. Spirituals and blues contain sublimated bitterness and humility, pathos and bewilderment.

When we sing the blues, we’re singing out our hearts, we’re singing out our feelings. Maybe we’re hurt and just can’t answer back, then we sing or maybe even hum the blues.

When we sing the blues, we’re singing out our hearts, we’re singing out our feelings. Maybe we’re hurt and just can’t answer back, then we sing or maybe even hum the blues.

As a form, the blues is an autobiographical chronicle of personal catastrophe expressed lyrically.

They’ve laughed to shield their crying then shuffled through the dreams and stepped ’n fetched a country to write the blues with screams.

They’ve laughed to shield their crying then shuffled through the dreams and stepped ’n fetched a country to write the blues with screams.

One person with a belief is a social power equal to ninety-nine who have only interests.

Beauty is only a promise of happiness.

Beauty can pierce one like a pain.