Quotes About Passion

I want to wake up with you in the morning, I want to fight with you in the afternoon, and I want to make love on any and every available surface in this place. And then I want to do it all over again. Come upstairs with me, Sophie. I'll keep you warm. I'll keep the darkness away.

He couldn't have known. The moonlight wasn't enough to illuminate the room, and the tears that spilled silently down her cheeks didn't touch him. But suddenly the kiss softened, the hands gentled on her, the lips coaxed and teased and healed. And without any more thought she was kissing him back, reaching for him with her mouth while her hands were held back, seeking him out with her tongue, calling him to her in the only way she could.

Voglio toccarti, scoprire il tuo corpo, imparare come sei fatto, di cosa hai bisogno. Voglio renderti pazzo di desiderio come lo sono io. Voglio te, tutto quello che puoi darmi, tutto quello che io posso darti, e voglio che questa notte duri per sempre. Sei in grado di darmi tutto questo?

At least it was dark. His eyes drifted down over her body, the ripe curves in the moonlight, and a dreamy expression crossed his face, just before he leaned forward and put his mouth against the side of her neck, tasting her hammering pulse.

He half expected another argument. A struggle of some sort. Again, a surprise. She made that soft, hungry sound that had already emblazoned itself in his senses, she put her hands on his shoulders, and she kissed him back, her tongue sliding against his.

She was playing with fire. He could talk a nun into an orgy.

When she stopped long enough to think about it she knew the wanting ran through him as deeply as it ran through her.

He was sitting on her thighs, and his silk breeches were cool against her bare skin. His hands slid up her body, her buttocks, up the line of her back, and she arched in pleasure, like a cat, unable to help herself. You like that, do you? he murmured. I thought you might. You're a sensual creature, dear heart, no matter how you try to fight it. You were made for this.

She wanted more, and yet his kiss was like poison to her. It could lead to things, to feelings that could destroy her utterly.

Cosa vuoi che ti faccia? Vuoi che ti prenda mentre dormi? Vuoi che ti faccia venire mentre tu fingi che nemmeno esisto? Vuoi entrare nel mio letto e lasciare che ti mostri cose che non hai mai nemmeno sognato? Si, no.. Quale di queste? Sii coraggiosa. Devi solo dirmelo. farò quello che vuoi Forse non sono tanto coraggiosa, dopotutto. il coraggio è avere paura e continuare lo stesso.

She was in love with Adrian Rohan, and had been for years, and nothing, not his rudeness nor tales of his outrageous excess, nor all her own rational self-discourse, could change her.

She said, 'Red, I want to learn every step of you, and dance till the end of the night.

He was impressed that someone so old still wanted so fiercely to live.

My family can always tell when I'm well into a novel because the meals get very crummy.

Si je devais attendre d'avoir envie, je n'écrirais jamais.

Artists! They were all crazy. In a good way, of course.

Books swept me away, this way and that, one after the other; I made endless vows according to their lights for I believed them.

Caring passionately about something isn't against nature, and it isn't against human nature. It's what we're here to do.

The world is wider in all directions, more dangerous and bitter, more extravagant and bright. We are making hay when we should be making whoopee; we are raising tomatoes when we should be raising Cain and Lazarus.

I feel as though I stand at the foot of an infinitely high staircase, down which some exuberant spirit is flinging tennis ball after tennis ball, eternally, and the one thing I want in the world is a tennis ball.

You can serve or you can sing, and wreck your heart in prayer, working the world's hard work.

Love so sprang at her, she honestly thought no one had ever looked into it. Where was it in literature? Someone would have written something. She must not have recognized it. Time to read everything again.

There is something you find interesting, for a reason hard to explain. It is hard to explain because you have never read it on any page; there you begin.

A writer looking for subjects inquires not after what he loves best, but after what he alone loves at all.