Quotes About Intensity

With you it's different. I come like a bloody bull with you. I want to reach inside you and make you feel what I do, to know heaven and hell and pleasure so intense you can't tell if it's agony or pure bliss."..."When I make love to you, I am yours. You own me body and soul.

Margrethe watched them paralyzed by the intensity of the emotions moving through her. So much pain and euphoria, a sense that even though her own heart was broken, the world could contain such beauty and magic she almost could not bear it? What did her own pain matter, in the face of that?

She wanted so to be tranquil, to be someone who took walks in the late-afternoon sun, listening to the birds and crickets and feeling the whole world breathe. Instead, she lived in her head like a madwoman locked in a tower, hearing the wind howling through her hair and waiting for someone to come and rescue her from feeling things so deeply that her bones burned.

I rarely cry. I save my feelings up inside me like I have something more specific in mind for them. I am waiting for the exact perfect situation and then BOOM! I'll explode in a light show of feeling and emotion - a pinata stuffed with tender nuances and pent-up passions

I was something women and men could agree on. They didn't like me in the same way, but they liked me with the same intensity, and were all fine with the other sex liking me, too. Isn't that weird? Think about it. And then stop and ponder something actually important. •

I was something women and men could agree on. They didn't like me in the same way, but they liked me with the same intensity, and were all fine with the other sex liking me, too. Isn't that weird? Think about it. And then stop and ponder something actually important.

I don't hate hardly ever, and when I love, I love for miles and miles. A love so big it should either be outlawed or it should have a capital and its own currency.

I lean back down and press my lips against his" you're going to be safe. i swear.i'll keep you safe." his lips move beneath mine." I love you." his eyes are strong for a second, intense Nick eyes."I will always love you no matter what." "we'll always love each other," i say

When a man is in love very little is enough to throw him into despair and as little to enhance his joy to the utmost.

When Will truly wants something," said Jem, quietly, "when he feels something — he can break your heart.

Hate is by far the greatest pleasure; men love in haste, but detest in leisure.

As if her veins ran lightning

Jealousy is love bed of burning snarl.

Serious sport has nothing to do with fair play. It is bound up with hatred, jealousy, boastfulness, disregard of all rules and sadistic pleasure in witnessing violence. In other words, it is war minus the shooting.

Serious sport is war minus the shooting.

Serious sport has nothing to do with fair play. It is bound up with hatred, jealousy, boastfulness, disregard of all rules and sadistic pleasure in witnessing violence: in other words, it is war minus the shooting... there are quite enough real causes of trouble already, and we need not add to them by encouraging young men to kick each other on the shins amid the roars of infuriated spectators.

At the base of it was the urge, if you wanted to play football, to knock someone down, that was what the sport was all about, the will to win closely linked with contact.

I've been killing characters my entire career, maybe I'm just a bloody minded bastard, I don't know, [but] when my characters are in danger, I want you to be afraid to turn the page (and to do that) you need to show right from the beginning that you're playing for keeps.

For herself, she wanted sleet and ice, howling winds, thunder to shake the very stones of the Red Keep. She wanted a storm to match her rage.

How I have yearned for the sound of your sweet voice," Tyrion sighed to her. "How I have yearned to have that eunuch's tongue pulled out with hot pincers," Cersei replied.

She could feel tendrils spreading through her chest, like fingers of fire coiling around her heart, and on her tongue was a taste like honey and anise and cream, like mother's milk and Drogo's seed, like red meat and hot blood and molten gold. It was all the tastes she had ever known, and none of them… and then the glass was empty.

Honey poured over thunder.

But her eyes were the most terrible thing. Her eyes saw him, and they hated.

Do you hate her?" "Almost as much as I lover her." - Dany & Ser Jorah