Quotes About Intensity

La luz era más intensa, y ella oía cosas que normalmente no oía. Un lamento de todo lo que estaba fuera de su sitio. Un aullido de todo lo que había dejado de ser auténtico...

intensity of indifference that only grief can promote.

beat you like a red-headed stepchild.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN A Piece of Fire

I jerked away from her, almost falling. "No!" I meant to shout but it came out as a weak croak, "Don't touch me." My voice was shaking, though I couldn't tell if I was angry or afraid.

an irrational and overpowering attraction

Asleep she was a painting of a fire. Awake she was fire itself.

He lay in his stony crypt like his own corpse, hardly breathing, his heart hardly beating - and yet lived as intensively and dissolutely as ever a rake had lived in the wide world outside.

El grito derrumbó las paredes,…, salió del corazón, cruzó tumbas, pantanos y desiertos, pasó a gran velocidad por el paisaje nocturno de su alma, como un voraz incendio,… e irrumpió en el mundo, resonando mucho más allá de la altiplanicie… Si el grito no hubiese rasgado la niebla, se habría asfixiado así mismo: una muerte espantosa.

Exist? o for?? de convingere a miresmei, mai puternic? decât aceea a cuvântului, privirii, simÅ£irii ÅŸi voinÅ£ei. Ea nu poate fi respins?, ne p?trunde-n pl?mâni ca aerul respirat, se revars? în noi, ne umple întru totul, nu exist? împotriva sa niciun mijloc.

Not a visible enthusiasm but a hidden one, an excitement burning with a cold flame.

Very well, but remember this... I'll be looking at you when you're laid on the cross and the twelve blows are crashing down on your limbs. When the crowd is finally tired of your screams and wandered home, I will climb up through your blood and sit beside you. I will look deep into your eyes... and drop by drop I will trickle my disgust into them like burning acid until... finally... you perish.

he lay in his stony crypt like his own corpse, hardly breathing, his heart hardly beating-and yet lived as intensively and dissolutely as ever a rake had lived.

My nose tried to jump off my face, overwhelmed by the foulest odor it had ever encountered. The

Anger flashed across Abnoba's face, followed closely by anger's lover, infuriation, and a look that may have been a private eye hired by anger's husband to keep tabs on her.

Why can't I write something that would awake the dead? That pursuit is what burns most deeply.

Never let go of that fiery sadness called desire.

For a time Robert protected me, then was dependent on me, and then possessive of me. His transformation was the rose of Genet, and he was pierced deeply by his blooming.

How could I have nothing to read? Perhaps it wasn't a lack of a book but a lack of obsession.

But if these unavoidable separations cause you a measure of pain, they also increase your longing for her, and perhaps that isn't a bad thing, you decide, for you spend your days in the thrall of breathless anticipation, agitated and alert, counting the hours until you can see her and hold her again. Intense. That is the word you use to describe yourself now. You are intense. Your feelings are intense. Your life has become increasingly intense.

You can't hate something so violently unless a part of you also loves it.

But fierce as my attraction was, I also knew that it was more than just a physical attraction [...], more than just a momentenry surge of animal desire. I understood that she wasn't a terribly articulate person and nothing she said that afternoon was particularly brilliant or memorable. And yet there I was in a state of maximum torment - burning and longing and pining, a man trapped in the spines of love.

Adolescence feeds on drama, it is most happy when living in extremis, and Ferguson was no less vulnerable to the lure of high emotion and extravagant unreason than any other boy his age ...

Germans either want to kill you or fuck you.