Quotes About Intensity

Oh the hunger in his stare!

I really wish I'd known Natasha and Ilya when I was getting my divorce. They took bloodsucking to a whole different level.

Red flickered in his amber eyes and he snarled at her. "If you ever scare me like this again, I will eat you!" Then he pressed his forehead against her arm and whined.

She was the most painful, most glorious dance of his life

Lava bread makes you passionate.

like a girl gone mad, in blood, in smoke, in a wedding of murder

No accident of the body can make it stop burning.

Forró volt a hang, mint egy szín belseje.

El deseo duplicado es amor y el amor duplicado es locura.

I would destroy the city if something happened to you. I can't even bear the thought of it.

Will you oblige me then?' His voice was low and smooth, nearly whispered ... Everything froze for a moment. Even the flickering lamps seemed to pause, flames surging upward and waiting ... 'No.

You always make me feel strange." His gaze sharpened, and she plowed ahead. "I don't mean that in the negative. But you do, and have, ever since that night I met you. I can't say I rightly felt that way before that night, though there was something about you across the theater that made me want to get you to smile at me in return. Still, it was that night we met. I had never felt such a reaction to a man before. Something tight and uncertain and exciting. Wild.

I burn the way money burns.

Our eyes are full of terrible confessions.

We talked death with burned-up intensity, both of us drawn to it like moths to an electric light bulb. Sucking on it!

It was as if a morning-glory had bloomed in her throat, and all that blue and small pollen ate into my heart, violent and religious

No. Not really red, but the color of a rose when it bleeds.

Darling, the composer has stepped into fire.

It was also my violent heart that broke.

June and July? These are the months we call Boiling Water.

I want to bite, I want to chew, I want to eat you up.

I burn like money burns.

Saints have no moderation, nor do poets, just exuberance.

She froze. He reached up and took her hand in his, pulling the knife away, making her drop it on the floor. "Show me how much you hate me," he whispered against her mouth. "Prove it to me.