Quotes About Intensity

If I wasn't dead already, I'd said I was having a heart attack.

Ma petite ...' 'No, you've done enough talking. It's my turn. If you harm Richard Zeeman, I'll kill you.' 'He means that much to you?' There was surprise in his voice. Great. 'No, you mean that little'.

I couldn't decide if it was a new orgasm, or if it was just an extra ending for the first one.

Jean-Claude said. I stared at him, and for the first

Hot rage runs through you, and is close kin to hot passion, but cold rage, that is close kin to hate.

I would move all of hell to reach your side,you know that.

Il movimento dei suoi fianchi rimase lento, guardingo, meraviglioso, ma io volevo di più. Accostai la bocca alla sua. Non sono fragile. E lo baciai con tanta violenza da sentire la pressione delle sue zanne.

Quella di Jean Claude era un vento freddo e tempestoso, mentre quella di Richard era elettricità rovente.

I dropped the blood-coated chair leg and collapsed to my knees. I couldn't swallow. I couldn't breathe. I was splattered with blood. I'd never beaten someone to death before. It had felt good.

Her eyes were as hard and bright as stars. Not the pretty sort that poets mooned about, but the kind that made men's destinies. The Orchid Affair

Her eyes were as hard and bright as stars. Not the pretty sort that poets mooned about, but the kind that made men's destinies.

This was what the poets couldn't put in their poetry, she thought dumbly, the rush of desire so fierce and pure it made one shake, all on the force of a word.

Love. Such a mild term for such a destructive force.

Je weniger wirkliches Wissen, desto mehr Hitze und Aufregung.

The next time you work on your trees, don't think about trees. Think about love, or hate, or joy, or rage-- whatever makes you feel something, makes your palms sweat or your toes curl.

The rooftop beyond that was a lake of fire.

Si sente urlare dal campo, bambine di nove anni che si caricano psicologicamente per vincere. Il calcio professionale per bambini è duro.

If you cannot stand the spoon upright in the cup, then the coffee is too weak.

coffee must be 'hot as hell, black as sin, and sweet as love.

Love is a temporary madness. It erupts like an earthquake and then subsides.

...the painful intensity of my sensations, even when they're happy ones; the blissful intensity of my sensations, even when they're sad.

Some people could say, "I'd like something that's super dramatic and miserable and made me cry and made me sad forever" but that's not my taste.

There's nothing in this world so sweet as love. And next to love the sweetest thing is hate.

We burn so hard, but we shed so little light; it makes us crazy and sad.