Quotes About Passion

And she knew, just as simply and just as surely that she loved him— had always loved him, with a love that lay at the very foundation of he being.

This book may or may not succeed. I wrote it for love, not money, but very often such books are the most successful, just as everything that is born of true love has life in it, as nothing constructed for mercenary ends can ever have.

We act that rôle for which we have been cast, that rôle which we are given in life. And in my own case, passion itself, as usually happens, becomes a trifle theatrical when it is exalted.

No sir, no. We act that role for which we have been cast, that role which we are given in life. And in my own case, passion itself, as usually happens, becomes a trifle theatrical when it is exalted.

A quanti uomini, presi nel gorgo d'una passione, oppure oppressi, schiacciati dalla tristezza, dalla miseria, farebbe bene pensare che c'è, sopra il soffitto, il cielo, e che nel cielo ci sono le stelle. [...] Contemplandole, s'inabissa la nostra inferma piccolezza, sparisce nella vacuità degli spazii, e non può non sembrarci misera e vana ogni ragione di tormento. Ma bisognerebbe avere in sé, nel momento della passione, la possibilità di pensare alle stelle.

L'amore che è la cosa piú viva e piú santa che ci sia dato provare sulla terra?

There was nothing one could do when love came. It was fast, and it was strong, and if it were not good, then surely God would not have allowed it such power.

That is the prize: to realize, at the end, that every minute was worth fighting for with every ounce of blood and fire.

No amor, as mãos são as nossas forças avançadas, as que exploram o terreno, desativam as minas e amolecem as defesas antes de o corpo entrar em ação. Quando um homem e uma mulher se amam, é porque as suas mãos já se amaram demais. O amor começa quando as mãos estão saciadas.

I would feel deeply the elegant satisfaction of being caressed by that gawky boy, and I would take his face in both my hands and kiss him hard, as if I could draw from those lips the very strength and sweetness he did not know he had.

both confidence and consolation. E. O. Wilson wrote: "You start by loving a subject. Birds, probability theory, stars, differential equations, storm fronts, sign language, swallowtail butterflies.… The subject will be your lodestar and give sanctuary in the shifting mental universe.

Love of knowledge can draw on its credit indefinitely ... love of knowledge is iron-clad.

Once The Evergreens and then the Homestead opened their doors to Mabel Todd, emotions—a lethal mix of passion, jealousy and rage—erupted during the last years of the poet's life, perpetuated by descendants and the authorities they co-opted or persuaded.

It is as if producing a creative work tears a piece from your soul. When it is ripped completely free of you, the wound must bleed for a while. How similar it is to letting go of a dream, your hope, or your heart's desire. You must open up and let it drain.

It doesn't have to be logical, it doesn't have to be love in the usual sense. It doesn't even have to be long lasting. Usually it isn't. But whatever it is, it is real and powerful while it lasts, and there's no point denying it.

The more I see you," he said quietly, "the more I want you.

Richard was jealous. He was jealous and he'd followed her, intending to kiss the hell out of her to show her.

I am not a gentle man," Richard said, against her mouth. "Uh-huh," she said as he lifted her in his arms. "Nor am I a practiced lover," he said as he carried her across the room. "Nobody's perfect," she managed as he lowered her to the bed. "But I do love you," he said as he stretched out next to her and leaned over her. "And I will give you the best that I have.

Jessica," he whispered hoarsely. "Ah, merciful saints above, I thought I'd never have you again." He clutched her to him. "Say you'll never leave me. Vow you'll never leave my arms again. Nay, I'll never let you go." He held her tighter. "Nothing will take you from me again, not even time. No more wishes. No more wishes unless we make them together.

When I was your age I met a man older than myself, quite a bit older. I fell in love with him. Really in love. I know people say it's just puppy love at that age, but I was in love properly. It lasted for years. It was the most powerful feeling I can ever remember. At that age one has no defenses. It just overwhelmed me.

Kate, Lucern interrupted. What? she asked warily. I do not need blood. He tugged her off balance and into his lap. All I need is you.

As a child, Kate hat once asked her mother how she would know she was in love. Her mother had said she would know she was in love when she would be willing to give up chocolate forever to be with that person for even an hour. Kate, a dedicated and hopeless chocoholic, had decided right then that she would never fall in love. She had been sure that no male was worth such privation.

Lucern was worth giving up chocolate. Dark chocolate, white chocolate, milk chocolate - she would happily give it all up for him.

He had never fainted in his life, and while he knew it was this whole life-mate, mind-blowing-sex business, it was still damned demoralizing to be fainting like a breathless virgin at the end of every encounter.