Contradictory Emotions Quotes

I hate, and yet must love the thing I hate.

Family likeness has often a deep sadness in it. Nature, that great tragic dramatist, knits us together by bone and muscle, and divides us by the subtler web of our brains; blends yearning and repulsion; and ties us by our heart-strings to the beings that jar us at every movement.

Where such men love they have no desire and where they desire they cannot love

I'm very phobic about flying, but I'm also drawn to it.

You have to love somebody that much to also hate them that much, too. (191)

Pain itself can be pleasurable accidentally in so far as it is accompanied by wonder, as in stage-plays; or in so far as it recalls a beloved object to one's memory, and makes one feel one's love for the thing, whose absence gives us pain. Consequently, since love is pleasant, both pain and whatever else results from love, in so far as they remind us of our love, are pleasant.

Where they love they do not desire and where they desire they do not love.

I'm optimistic yet disillusioned, hopeful yet frustrated.

Excessive sorrow laughs. Excessive joy weeps.

Pain is joy when it cries, it's my smile in disguise.

Sweet Skepticism of the Heart That knows and does not know And tosses like a Fleet of Balm Affronted by the snow.

I think that I'm shy and I judge myself. But at the same time, I also have big contradictions. I can be sometimes sure of myself as well. I'm not always fragile and vulnerable. I can feel tough and strong.

In one moment I was feeling everything and I was feeling nothing.

Love commingled with hate is more powerful than love. Or hate.

We must love, as looking one day to hate.

Immortality: A toy which people cry for, And on their knees apply for, Dispute, contend and lie for, And if allowed Would be right proud Eternally to die for.

One hates a person for the same reason one loves him

I like to think I am a happy angry person, if that makes sense.

From the heart of the fountain of delight rises a jet of bitterness that tortures us among the very flowers.

Isn't joyful or painful this pain in which I rejoice

I loved feeling special. I hated feeling special.

I think real humans are so complicated, and often [characters] are written more one-dimensional without maybe even the writer knowing it. I've felt numerous moments in my life where my most confident moment and my most insecure moment were exactly the same time. There's nothing funny or interesting about perfection.

My joy is as painful as my pain.

It's so thrilling to be intimidated.

Hate I shall, if I can; if I can't, I shall love though not willing.