Quotes About Intensity

As my daddy would say, time to start the killin

I live for hatred," the boy replied. "It rejuvenates my creative fire.

You motherfuckingbastardsonofabitchwhorecocksuckerprick!

Hold on," she murmured, and he briefly wondered if she ever used that particular tone of voice in bed. Mitch snorted, trying to stop where his thoughts were headed—again. "Yeah, yeah. Show me what ya got, sweet—Mother of God Almighty!

Trust me, pups, one day you'll find that male who makes you love him, care for him, and want to stab him in the face all at the same time. And your lives will never be the same.

As he looked at her, she felt that flood of restlessness that she now knew was called desire.

She tilted her head back with a breathless moan, whispering his name, "Saxon." Then three more words tumbled from her lips in an aching, husky plea. "Do not stop.

A fierce possessiveness gripped him, a need to brand her, to make her his, now and forever. And he knew it was madness.

He watched her emerald eyes darken with need until they were the color of the Highland hills warmed by the summer sun.

You will think me cruel, very selfish, but love is always selfish; the more ardent the more selfish. How jealous I am you cannot know. You must come with me, loving me, to death; or else hate me and still come with me, and hating me through death and after.

I've always loved you," he said, his eyes a blue that was almost violet. "You know this." She swallowed a lump in her throat. "I only wonder whether I deserve such devotion." "Sometimes people fall in love with those who do not return the same strength of feelings. It is as it is," he said with a quiet intensity. "What I give, I give freely. You owe me nothing, not love, not friendship, not even obligation.

No," she replied, her voice barely audible. "I thought we might create some sparks together. But now I know nothing we do will ever rival the passionate embrace between a hunting rope and a snake.

All your emotions were so intense—your anger like daggers, your unhappiness a poisoned well. Even your love had such sharp corners and dark alleys.

He wanted to make cast models of her. He wanted to take a set of precision calipers and measure every distance between her features. He wanted her blood and glandular fluids analyzed by the finest chemists in the world—there must be something detectibly different in her inner workings for him to respond so dramatically, as if he'd been given a drug for which science had yet to find a name. But more than anything, he wanted to—

When I was small, it was difficult for me to be around you," Callista continued. "All your emotions were so intense—your anger like daggers, your unhappiness a poisoned well. Even your love had such sharp corners and dark alleys.

His climax began gathering again, rising toward a point of no return. He didn't know if he could restrain himself this time: He was too close, too near to being overwhelmed. She cried out, trembling exclamations. He lost all control, his release hot, violent, and endless.

His voice, however, was utterly velvety—if an upholstered wrecking ball could be called velvety. "I won't need to try, my dear. My touch will burn away his." She couldn't breathe. "You were always quiet in his bed," he went on, "but you won't be in mine. You will scream with pleasure—and you will do it again and again.

One conceals oneself standing silently beside the trunk of a tree and what there is of a reflective tendency in his nature is intensified. One shudders at the thought of the meaninglessness of life while at the same instant, and if the people of the town are his people, one loves life so intensely that tears come into the eyes.

Swearing, he fisted a hand in her short hair, yanked her head back and slanted his mouth over hers. She opened for him, humming with delight and Law was cursing himself even as he gorged on her taste. Fuck, she was sweet—hot, sweet, and perfect.

Their first kiss had been a mix of fury and frustrated passion. This one wouldn't be like that. He'd kiss her the way he should have kissed her to begin with.

He grabbed my head between his hands, staring at me wild-eyed. "Damn you," he muttered. "Damn you for making me feel.

You listen to me, woman: you're mine! I'll not share you and, by God, we shall be married!" His mouth came down hard on hers and his lips crushed hers as he stamped his possession on her startled mouth.

His mouth left her lips, traveling with a trail of fire down her neck to her breast, and breathlessly Nicole whispered, "Don't, please, Christopher, don't do this to me." He stopped and stared up at her, beguiled and enchanted by the beautiful features so near him. "Stop?" he muttered thickly. "I cannot. You say you do not want me. But you lie, Nicole, you have always lied. If you did not want me, this would not happen." - Nicole & Christopher

Gillie caught Delilah's hand before it struck, and held it firmly in his own. He stared at her for a long time, but said nothing. Then at last he spoke softly, "Don't you hurt her. Not ever. If you ever hurt her I will come back and witch you, old trollop, and you will wish you had never been born." His words were so soft, so measured, and so filled with meaning that a shiver went through the room.