Quotes About Intensity

Writing poetry is such an intense experience that it helps to start the process in a casual or wayward frame of mind.

I always go heavy and I always go to failure.

Imagine a painter crucified by his subject!

Whatever you accomplish in a lifetime will be in direct proportion to the intensity and persistence of your faith

Rage is exciting, but leaves me confused and exhausted.

You're lucky I like you so much, cause you're even crazier then I am.

I hate playing games. I want love where there's actual flames.

You're the craziest girl I've ever met, I guess that makes me even crazier for loving you the way I do.

When I think about you, it's like going on a roller coaster. I get butterflies in my stomach from the highs and lows that you take me on. My head gets dizzy from the turns and the jumbled questions. I feel a rush and I'm out of breath, when you go.

Youre like my asthma, you take my breath away. Like dandruff; I cant get you off my head. Like my car, you drive me crazy. Like dentures, I cant smile without you.

You might look at me as just some girl, but im the girl who took one look at you and fell harder for you then anyone else could.

Love we cannot have is the one that lasts the longest, hurts the deepest, and feels the strongest.

Love that we cannot have is the love that lasts the longest, hurts the deepest, and feels the strongest

Time is a great healer. With time everything passes, love, beauty, pain and hurts. With time the intensity and sharpness of my pain, my sadness my disappointments and my despair, slowly fades, but my heart's still broken and my eyes still cry for you.

I would be more," I said. "I would be all.

I feel like I would eat the world raw.

His eyes, green as spring leaves, met mine. "Patroclus. I have given enough to them. I will not give them this.

A partir de ese momento nuestra amistad se precipitó como los torrentes de montaña en primavera.

Esas milésimas de segundo donde se encontraban la línea de nuestras miradas eran el único momento de mi jornada en que yo sentía algo: el súbito vuelco en el estómago, el flujo de la ira. Era como un pez mirando desde el anzuelo.

His flesh was hot as a brazier, and I pressed as close as he would let me, like a lizard to noonday rocks.

However gold he shines, do not forget his fire

I moved straight-backed, as if a great brimming bowl rested in my hands. The dark liquid rippled as I walked, always at the point of overflow, yet never flowing.

Achilles' eyes were bright in the firelight, his face drawn sharply by the flickering shadows. I would know it in dark, or disguise. I told myself. I would know it even in madness.

His rage was so hot the air bent and wavered around him. "I can end you with a thought." It was my oldest fear, that white annihilation. I felt it shiver through me. But enough. At last, enough.