Words Cannot Describe How I Feel Quotes & Sayings

she says, her words tinged with sorrow. I stop, go and sit on the edge of her bed. We sit, silent. "I promise, I'm right here and I won't leave you." I let her feel my presence. No one could describe Alzheimer's better than this. She's lost inside her own mind. How cruel. How fucking cruel. — Carol O'Dell

I have no words to describe the way you make me feel. — Dhiren Prajapati

We read to learn and to grow, to laugh, to be motivated, and to understand things we've never been exposed to. We read for strength to help us when we feel broken, discouraged or afraid. We read to find hope. We read because we're not just made up of skin and bones, and a deep need for chocolate, but we're also made up of words, words which describe our thoughts and what's hidden in our hearts. — Joan Bauer

Doing a play is so fulfilling. Words cannot describe how I feel when I finish doing a play. — Rutina Wesley

You were the poem I never knew how to write because no words could describe the wind you cannot see, but feel. — Shannon L. Alder

There are no words that can describe the euphoria you feel when your baby recognizes you for the first time and smiles. — Jared Padalecki

My mind is desperately trying to formulate the words to let him know, to show him that my feelings run so much deeper than what those three little words can describe. I need to make him feel the way he's just made me feel, and 'I love you' just doesn't seem adequate anymore. — Elle Brooks

The honor I feel today being inducted into the Hall of Fame is beyond what words can describe. My thanks to the Hall of Fame committee, who saw fit to bestow this great honor upon me today. — Hank Stram

Fancy language tends to make "in" people feel more in and "out" people feel more out, and I don't think that's how words are best used. Words are best used to describe specific feelings, ideas, and hearts as clearly as possible - to make the speaker and the listener, or the writer and the reader, feel less alone and more hopeful. — Glennon Doyle Melton

In writing. Don't use adjectives which merely tell us how you want us to feel about the thing you are describing. I mean, instead of telling us a thing was "terrible," describe it so that we'll be terrified. Don't say it was "delightful"; make us say "delightful" when we've read the description. You see, all those words (horrifying, wonderful, hideous, exquisite) are only like saying to your readers, "Please will you do my job for me."
[Letter to Joan Lancaster, 26 June 1956] — C.S. Lewis

I know already that I will return to this day whenever I want to. I can bid it alive. Preserve it. There is a still point where the present, the now, winds around itself, and nothing is tangled. The river is not where it begins or ends, but right in the middle point, anchored by what has happened and what is to arrive. You can close your eyes and there will be a light snow falling in New York, and seconds later you are sunning upon a rock in Zacapa, and seconds later still you are surfing through the Bronx on the strength of your own desire. There is no way to find a word to fit around this feeling. Words resist it. Words give it a pattern it does not own. Words put it in time. They freeze what cannot be stopped. Try to describe the taste of a peach. Try to describe it. Feel the rush of sweetness: we make love. — Colum McCann

You can't really describe how difficult it is to deal with. It is any athlete's worst nightmare to be accused of cheating by taking drugs. It really is very difficult to put into words how it makes you feel. — Greg Rusedski

I write. I give intimate private names to an external and foreign world. In a sense, I make it mine. In a sense, I return from feeling exiled and foreign to feeling at home. By doing so, I am already making a small change in what appeared to me earlier as unchangeable. Also, when I describe the impermeable arbitrariness that signs my destiny - arbitrariness at the hands of a human being, or arbitrariness at the hands of fate - I suddenly discover new nuances, subtleties. I discover that the mere act of writing about arbitrariness allows me to feel a freedom of movement in relation to it. That by merely facing up to arbitrariness I am granted freedom - maybe the only freedom a man may have against any arbitrariness: the freedom to put your tragedy into your own words. The freedom to express yourself differently, innovatively, before that which threatens to chain and bind one to arbitrariness and its limited, fossilizing definitions. — David Grossman

Who Am I? I am not a disease, nor my weight, nor even my family. I am not my job, or my things, or the house I live in. I am not the words used to describe me (quiet or boring or something else I haven't thought of), the books I read, or the clothes I wear. I am not what you see, on the outside or what I say or even the things I do. It's all illusory. I am, instead, this essence inside. I am the strength that gives me breath each day. I am the love I feel within. I am a light in the dark. I am a little piece of this universe. I am human. I am silence. I am hope burning. I am kindness. I am laughter. I am all of these things. I am. — Erica Orloff

I like playing around with the words; I love it when I feel like I've picked the exact right word to describe whatever it is I'm trying to describe. — Margaret Haddix

The words of human love have been used by the saints to describe their vision of God, and so I suppose we might use the terms of prayer, meditation, contemplation to explain the intensity of the love we feel for a woman ... — Graham Greene

You don't use words like 'kind of interested' to describe how I feel about you. — Melina Marchetta

I feel as though I am trying to describe a three-dimensional experience while living in a two-dimension world. The appropriate words, descriptions, and concepts don't even exist in our current language. I have subsequently read the accounts of other people's near-death experiences and their portrayals of heaven and I am able to see the same limitations in their descriptions and vocabulary that I see in my own. — Mary C. Neal

The two words that I've arrived at to describe what we all need to feel about ourselves, children and adults, in order to perceive ourselves accurately, are worthy and welcome. If you don't feel worthy and welcome, you really won't know what to do with yourself. You won't know how to behave in a world of other people. You won't think you deserve to get what you need. — Jean Liedloff

I feel the words rising, and they are words I've never, ever spoken out loud before. Words that belong to stories I've never told. Words that describe the hurt I've never expressed. Words that probably won't capture the guilt I've never properly climbed over. I feel them there, these words, powerful, bubbling under the surface like lava, scalding hot and searingly painful. — Debbie Johnson

I feel ugly I said and you looked at me as if I spoke a different language. There are things you will never understand and if there were words to describe the rapture that takes place in my head from time to time I would put my hand in front of your eyes to protect you from all the ugliness in the world.
I kept my eyes on the streetlights outside the window and you kissed every inch of my body as if you could kiss the pain away. — Charlotte Eriksson

Celadon, azure, crimson and amber.
They are beautiful, for sure.
But they have nothing on you.

Even the piano and its shades of melodic sounds.
And even, when I have the chance, Chopin in the park in Paris.
These are some of my fondest memories.

But still it is hard to think of the subtle nuances in the gold of the sun when I see you.
In you there is no viridian, cerulean, venetian, or citrine.

This is not to say that there is no color in you, because there is.
I just have not found the right words to describe you, and somehow,
I feel that I never will. — Queenbe Monyei

There's a power in words. There's a power in being able to explain and describe and articulate what you know and feel and believe about the world, and about yourself. — Tracy Chapman

For me, art in our time is strongest when it is aware of science, includes science, is inspired by science, or is about science. On the linguistic level, the new words coined by scientists to describe their new discoveries form a giant growing lexicon that means English is simply bursting with new possibilities, resembling the Elizabethan age in that respect. Then conceptually, science is creating new stories to tell, by deluging us with new information and potentialities. In this deluge we need art to do its usual job of sorting things out, by giving things their human dimension and by exploring how they might feel and what they might mean. So to me the arts and the sciences are completely intertwined. Maybe that's always been true, but now more than ever. — Kim Stanley Robinson

The most amazing feeling I feel
Words can't describe what I'm feeling for real
Maybe I paint the sky blue
My greatest creation was you. — Jay-Z

I guess what inspires me most is the desire to draw out feelings that feel best expressed on the written page by really good authors, and I'm not a really good author. I feel like my job as a filmmaker is to eff the ineffable, to take feelings that only poets could describe with words and try to project them on the screen for viewers to feel. I don't think I've succeeded once but in the act of trying I've come up with all these other results which sometimes intrigue me. — Guy Maddin

I will say it one last time: Demonation! The feeling of it! There are no words -how can there be?- to describe what it feels like to become words, to feel your life encoded, and laid out in black ink on white paper. All my love and hatred, melted into words. It was like the End of the World. — Clive Barker

You've got this look I can't describe,
You make me feel like I'm alive,
When everything else is au fait,
Without a doubt you're on my side,
Heaven has been away too long,
Can't find the words to write this song,
Oh ... Your love — Corinne Bailey Rae

In writing I try to pare down the descriptive bits. If I feel that I could say something in as few words as possible, then I would rather do it than to go on padding. One should describe sufficiently to give the reader a sense of what one feels, but not at the same time overwhelm the reader in any way. For example, I feel that if you use lots of adjectives they have a mutually cancelling effect. If you can describe a scene well enough, without having to use far too many words, I would rather do so. — Arthur Yap

I love the sound of words, the feel of them, the flow of them. I love the challenge of finding just that perfect combination of words to describe a curl of the lip, a tilt of the chin, a change in the atmosphere. Done well, novel-writing can combine lyricism with practicality in a way that makes one think of grand tapestries, both functional and beautiful. Fifty years from now, I imagine I'll still be questing after just that right combination of words. — Lauren Willig

So when you're talking about lyrics in the context of music, it's not just about what the words mean, and what you were thinking about when you wrote it. It's not cognitive in that same way. It's almost like music turns words into touch, which is hard to describe, like the feeling of your shirt on your back. It's a pretty delicate thing to try to put into words. You just feel it. — Mirah

I can only feel the 'I.'
I can know who I am not.
I can know what I am not.
But, who I am,
I cannot express;
I cannot describe it in words. — Santosh Lamichhane

To describe what I feel for you would lack the words, I love you more than I can explain. — Auliq Ice

Ma'am is yet another horrible-sounding word in the lexicon of words that women are stuck with to describe various aspects of their body/life/mental state/hair. Vagina. Moist. Fallopian tubes. Yeast infection. Clitoris. Frizz. These are all terrible words, and yet they are our assigned descriptors. Who made up these words? Women certainly didn't. If, at the beginning of time, right after making vaginas, God had asked me, 'What would you like your most intimate and enjoyable part of yourself to be called?',' I most certainly wouldn't have said, 'Vagina.' No woman would, because vagina sounds like a First World War term that was invented to describe a trench that has been mostly blown apart but is still in use. Even off the very top of my head I feel like I could have come up with something better, like for instance the word papoose, which actually as I'm typing it feels like an incredibly brilliant word for vagina. — Jessi Klein