Quotes About Intensity

I've always been very visceral in that I feel things very deeply.

Jacobean plays, before Shakespeare, were particularly visceral.

You get such a visceral thrill driving a race car. You think you've driven, and then you're like, 'Oh, I was doing something for 20 years that I didn't realize I hadn't experienced the real version of.'

It's fun to figure out a way to make something happen that will get the reader involved on a visceral level. When written well, an exciting scene on the page will actually have a physical effect on the reader - your heart will beat faster, your adrenaline will start to flow.

The emotional compact between football clubs and their supporters is visceral and usually lifelong.

I remember George Jones singing on television, but not any of the songs he sang. What I remember was my visceral reaction to him, the intensity of my distaste.

I tend to have a kind of tunnel vision when I'm looking at an individual piece.

His expression is intense but gentle, a combination of a wise elder and a stuffed animal, and it comes with a message:

You're so dehydrated I can hear you blink.

Live passionately or not at all.

Heated estrogen cruised Breeanne's veins

Their tongues met, starving, two years without this delicious meal. They kissed and kissed and kissed. The joining of their mouths was more intense than that night on the ferry. This was a kiss of reunion. Of forgiveness. Of coming home.

Nobody, nothingever gave megreater thingthan timeunless lightand silencewhich if intensemakes sound

And we clung to each other in a shelter smelling of orange peel and piss on the promenade, and shrieked with glee, like the Bacchae who dismembered Orpheus.

She laid her palm against his bristled cheek. "You're safe," she whispered. "What the hell did you think you were doing?" he growled, his heart pounding wildly in his chest. "I was going to save you." He threaded his fingers through her tangled hair. She'd lost her bonnet. She was damn lucky she hadn't lost her life. "You little fool," he rasped in a voice rift with emotion. "You brave little fool.

Then he began tearing at his clothes. She heard the linen rip and the buttons ping as they scattered over the floor. She thought she should be frightened by the frenzy, but instead she was fascinated that she could elicit such a reaction from a man. That he was fairly mad with wanting her.

But you also admitted to her being in the shadows and not having a clear view of him." "What would be his motive?" "Perhaps he saw me kissing Mary." "Killing the man for kissing your betrothed seems a bit drastic." I would, he thought, surprised by the vehement behind the words.

The opposite of passionate love is not hatred; it is indifference.

My week beats your year.

Elle avait ce gout de l'absolu, rien n'etait jamais assez, rien n'etait quelque chose. Quiconque a ce gout de l'absolu, renonce par la meme au bonheur.

Hij likte me frivooltje van een mosseltje, intens ervan genietend, dat voelde ik wel. (...) Het raakte binnen in me in alsmaar opgewondener toestand - de toestand is opnieuw gespannen, zegt men dan in de nieuwsberichten - en ik voelde dat iets gebeuren zou (...)

My knives are like a tongue - I love, I do not love, I hate. If you don't love me, I am ready to attack. I am a double-edged knife.

If I ever bore you, it'll be with a knife.

I have a gift for enraging people, but if I ever bore you it will be with a knife.