Quotes About Passion

Her affection for everything she could love increased.

Give her books, and she would devour them and end by knowing them by heart.

People who are fond of books know the feeling of irritation which sweeps over them at such a moment.

There were in this strange nature, depths so awful and profound that it was not to be sounded or to be judged as others were. But one thing could have melted or caused the unconquerable spirit to bend, and this was the overwhelming passion of love--not a slight, tender feeling, but a great and powerful one, such as could be awakened but by a being of as strong and deep a nature as itself, one who was in all things its peer.

Nothing is more interesting than repressed emotion. The appearance of sardonic coldness and stoicism which has deceived you is but a hollow mockery; beneath it I secrete a maelstrom of impassioned feeling and a mausoleum of blighted hopes.

only doing what she unconsciously liked better than anything else

She liked books more than anything else

I don't want you to give me anything, said Sara. I want your books- I want them! And her eyes grew big and her chest heaved.

into a passion and beat and kicked her, she looked only

You have yourself under magnificent control, but a woman passionately in love cannot keep a certain look out of her eyes. If it is there — let it stay, she said. I would not keep it out of my eyes if I could, and, you are right, I could not if I would — if it is there. If it is — let it stay.

Oh, come on, he was twenty-six. And he had poetry on his lips.

No one can teach anyone to be a great anything. If your blood is on fire with the love of language and the desire to make something with words, you probably know that.

Falling in love with a book brings the same catapulting madness and zest that falling in love with a person brings.

I simply fell in love [with Rome] - like you fall in love with a person

I simply fell in love [with Italy] - like you fall in love with a person

He kissed her. A kiss about apple pie a la mode with the vanilla creaminess melting in the pie heat. A kiss about chocolate, when you haven't eaten chocolate in a year. A kiss about palm trees speeding by, trailing pink clouds when you drive down the Strip sizzling with champagne. A kiss about spotlights fanning the sky and the swollen sea spilling like tears all over your legs.

What shall we do, all of us? All of us oassionate girls who fear crushing the boys we love with our mouths like caverns of teeth, our mushrooming brains, our watermelon hearts?

Pianos, unlike people, sing when you give them your every growl. They know how to dive into the pit of your stomach and harmonize with your roars when you've split yourself open. And when they see you, guts shining, brain pulsing, heart right there exposed in a rhythm that beats need need, need need, need need, pianos do not run. And so she plays.

You are my Marilyn. You are my lake full of fishes. You are my sky set, my 'Hollywood in Miniature,' my pink Cadillac, my highway, my martini, the stage for my heart to rock and roll on, the screen where my movies light up.

What shall we do? All of us passionate girls who fear crushing the boys we love with our mouths like caverns of teeth, our mushrooming brains, and watermelon hearts?

She was no longer a slow dreamer watching the flowers grow. She was a warrior now. Warriors need something to fight for though, beside their lives, because otherwise their lives will not be worth it.

You are so intense. Like a storm. It's shocking how intense you are.

He smells like night-blooming flowers Crushed, juicy petals on the pillows His voice is full of ocean Humming like the surf He kneels before me like I am his goddess He is a god

Love is the worst earthquake there is. Can crush you to the thickness of your bones. Love can be like cancer sometimes. Terminal. It can make you vomit. It can make you want to cut it out. It can take you over against your will.