Don’t feel sorry for yourself. Only a**holes do that.
Confession is not betrayal. What you say or do doesn’t matter: only feelings matter. If they could make me stop loving you — that would be the real betrayal.
Women are more attuned to feelings than men are, and if they’re not being truthful, more often than not it’s because they think the truth might hurt your feelings. But it doesn’t mean they don’t love you.
What, then, do you call your soul? What idea have you of it? You cannot of yourselves, without revelation, admit the existence within you of anything but a power unknown to you of feeling and thinking.
What is happiness? — The feeling that power in creases, that a resistance is overcome.
What is good? — All that increases the feeling of power, will to power, power itself, in man.
We feel and know that we are eternal.
To constitute taste, it is not sufficient to see and to know the beauty of a work. We must feel and be affected by it.
Through the word a man conveys his thoughts to another, while through art people convey their feelings to each other.[Cловом один человек передает другому свои мысли, искусством же люди передают друг другу свои чувства.]
There could have been no two hearts so open, no tastes so similar, no feelings so in unison.
The robot had no feelings, only positronic surges that mimicked those feelings. (And perhaps human beings had no feelings, only neuronic surges that were interpreted as feelings.)
The most natural feelings are those we are least willing to confess.
