Quotes About Passion

Divine had meant to try to shut her mind off from his sooner than she had, but had got wrapped up in the passion she'd so carefully stirred to life in them both and left it just that one second or two too long. Instead of remaining conscious as she'd hoped, she'd ended up passing out with him.

Good Lord, not again! What the devil is it with you and libraries that makes you unable to control yourself in them, James? You have always had a passion for books, but really! I fear she is right. I always have had a passion for libraries. Still, I never realised quite how much pleasure they could afford until I met you.

Suzette was different, her responses were honest, her need real not feigned to jolly the exercises along, and that passion in her had called out to his own. Feeling her tremble with excitement had excited him, tasting her passion had made his own hunger stretch and roar, and just watching her find her release had nearly brought on his own. He wanted to possess that, and if it took marriage to do it, then dammit, Gretna Green here he came.

It was not a good-morning kiss, Suzette decided as his tongue slid out to urge her lips open. At least it wasn't to her. Good-morning kisses, in her mind, were sweet pecks. This was more of a good-morning, good-afternoon and good-evening kiss all in one, she thought as his mouth devoured hers. Or perhaps it was more of an I want to throw you in the straw, toss up your skirts and have my wicked way with you kind of kiss, she decided as his hands begam to roam.

Do ye often howl at wolves? Only Lovey, Claray answered. He's the only wolf I ken. Ye ken Conall, and he's the Wolf. Aye, Conall agreed aloud, and then leaned down to whisper by her ear, And ye howled for me on our weddin' night. Hopefully this night I can make ye howl again. Finally. Claray stiffened in surprise and then felt heat suffuse her face as his hand crept up her waist where it was resting, and his thumb brushed over the bottom of one breast.

Claray had not been made to spend her life on her knees in prayer. The lass had too much passion in her for that. So, he would marry her, reclaim his name, title and home and set to work filling her belly with bairns. The thought made him smile, and imagining all the ways to accomplish the task of filling her belly, all the positions and places he could do so, helped pass the time as they continued their ride through the long day and the evening that followed.

I lived on anger, but it's the kind of fuel that uses you up even when it's pushing you forward.

So long as there is breath in me, I will serve life—serve life—serve life.

The one thing I am now sure of is that if there is such a thing as destiny, it is a result of our passion, be that for money, power, or love. Passion, for better or worse. It can keep a soul alive even if all that survives is a shimmering. I've even seen it. I've been bathed in it. I've been changed by it.

I wouldn't think it happens easily or often, never for some people. I imagine a love like that is like a fire starting with a spark and growing into a blaze becoming an engulfing passion too hot for most people to withstand.

Because you see... He cradled Alec's face between his hands. I'm in love with you, Alec. The kind of love that not only makes my balls ache, but that makes my chest so tight sometimes I think I can't breathe. The kind that makes my skin tingle and my heart pound and my knees weak whenever I'm around you. I'm deeply ... powerfully ... unequivocally in love with you.

Assim na cama, envolvido no lençol, tratei de poetar.

something that I could call a lust for annoyance. The voluptuousness of annoyance

E assim se foram escoando as horas da noite, que o relógio da sala de jantar batia seca e regularmente, como a lembrar aos dois amigos que as nossas paixões não aceleram nem moderam o passo do tempo.

Eu amava Capitu! Capitu amava-me! E as minhas pernas andavam, desandavam, estacavam, trémulas e crentes de abarcar o mundo. Esse primeiro palpitar da seiva, essa revelação da consciência a si própria, nunca mais me esqueceu, nem achei que lhe fosse comparável qualquer outra sensação da mesma espécie. Naturalmente por ser minha. Naturalmente também por ser a primeira.

Ah! meu caro Rubião, isto de política pode ser comparado à paixão de Nosso Senhor Jesus Cristo; não falta nada, nem o discípulo que nega, nem o discípulo que vende. Coroa de espinhos, bofetadas, madeiros, e afinal morre-se na cruz das ideias, pregado pelos cravos da inveja, da calúnia e da ingratidão.

Los locos de amor eran tres o cuatro, pero sólo les resultaban asombrosos por la curiosa índole de su delirio.

Le coeur a ses raisons que la raison ne connait point. French. Pascal. The heart has its reasons, whereof reason knows nothing.

Those who believe they believe in God, but without passion in the heart, without anguish of mind, without uncertainty, without doubt, and even at times without despair, believe only in the idea of God, and not in God himself.

I feel as though I'm not breathing when I'm out of his presence. He's the oxygen in my air, the sun in my universe, the staff of my life. —Jane Gardiner

But I'm not patient! cried Meg passionately. I've never been patient!

The creative impulse can be killed, but it cannot be taught...What a teacher can do...in working with children, is to give the flame enough oxygen so that it can burn. As far as I'm concerned, this providing of oxygen is one of the noblest of all vocations.

It is not the vaccinationists but the antivaccinationists who generate zeal. People are zealous for a cause when they are not quite positive that it is true.

Wild nights are my glory