Quotes About Passion

If he loved with all the powers of his puny being, he couldn't love as much in eighty years as I could in a day.

If you ever looked at me once with what I know is in you, I would be your slave.

I have to remind myself to breathe -- almost to remind my heart to beat!

I love the ground under his feet, and the air over his head, and everything he touches and every word he says. I love all his looks, and all his actions and him entirely and all together.

Nelly, I am Heathcliff - he's always, always in my mind - not as a pleasure, any more then I am always a pleasure to myself - but, as my own being.

Shall Earth no more inspire thee, Thou lonely dreamer now? Since passion may not fire thee Shall Nature cease to bow? Thy mind is ever moving In regions dark to thee; Recall its useless roving -- Come back and dwell with me.

Once drinking deep of that divinest anguish,How could I seek the empty world again?

[Said by Catherine:] I am Heathcliff.

She burned too bright for this world.

The artist himself may not think he is religious, but if he is sincere his sincerity in itself is religion.

The Heart wants what it wants - or else it does not care

Prefiero ser odiado que amado con tibieza»

Maybe that's what it all comes down to. Love, not as a surge of passion, but as a choice to commit to something, someone, no matter what obstacles or temptations stand in the way. And maybe making that choice, again and again, day in and day out, year after year, says more about love than never having a choice to make at all.

My wants are simple: a job that I like and a guy whom I love.

I miss us too. I always have and I probably always will. Sometimes there are no happy endings. No matter what, I'll be losing something, someone. But maybe that's what it all comes down to. Love, not as a surge of passion, but as a choice to commit to something, someone, no matter what obstacles or temptations stand in the way. And maybe making that choice again and again, day in and day out, year after year,says more about love than never having a choice to make at all.

This was what love did. It unhinged you.

Real love should draw no blood from the loved and buckets from the lover.

The thing I never understood about love is that it can't be quelled, like lust can. With love, if you follow its call, if you give in to it, it just gets worse. The more you have, the deeper you go, the more you need.

And reading this way - with no deadline, no agenda - she remembered why she loved literature so much. It was like fucking a new man and knowing that he had made other women come, but that when she came it would be an unshareable, untranslatable pleasure. She opened herself up to her books, and the words got inside her and fucked her senseless.

Fucking was poetry unbound.

He is a fool who is not for love and beauty.

When one has been awakened so that he will conserve all the life forces and let them be distributed to the nerves in the natural way, then let them go coursing along the nerves to every atom of the body, without deforming it with thoughts of sex-lust or passion, the exhilaration will be permanent and the sensation will far transcend that of sex. The serpent will be lifted up and will need to crawl on its belly through the murk and mire of lust and passion.

What does it mean to be a great poet? It means that you wrote one or two great poems. Or great parts of poems. That's all it means. Don't try to picture the waste or it will alarm you.

Let us therefore trust the eternal Spirit which destroys and annihilates only because it is the unfathomable and eternal source of all life. The passion for destruction is a creative passion, too!