Quotes About Passion

Most literary people die of starvation.

No the world's too crazy, it might never come true But before I give up I'm gonna fight for you My heart beats fast and my face is all flushed Darn I'd marry you tomorrow, I don't wanna seemed rushed.

And I think of nothing. I think of nothing but Rachel. What happens next is pure magic, and is for us and us alone.

Focus on what makes you happy, and do what gives meaning to your life

There's people making babies to my music. That's nice.

I don't think of myself as a role model. I do try to live in a compassionate, considerate and positive way. The only advice I can offer is to find what you love to do, find the joy in it, and express yourself through your passion.

I refuse to be molded into some stereotypical ballplayer that has no interests, really, no life, no depth, no intelligence.

ILUVUMED: I love you more each day

Love attacks. It sneaks up like a pride of lions or a pack of hyenas and eats your heart out while you watch. Love is the bully on the playground who takes your lunch money and gives you a black eye in return, the arsonist who burns your house down with you in it, the witch who lures you into her home with candy and boils you alive for dinner. Love is raw, and violent, and instantaneous. You don't fall in love; you get trampled by it.

The affair ran the usual course. Fever, boredom, trapped.

Desire is the essence of a man.

Reason is no match for passion.

Whether this desire for sex is moderate or not, it is usually called lust.

A passion seizes to be a passion as soon as we form a clear idea of it.

Your purpose is to be YOU as fully as you can and the way that's perhaps most easily done is to act on your highest joy.

It is not given to every man to take a bath of multitude: to play upon crowds is an art; and he alone can plunge, at the expense of humankind, into a debauch of vitality, to whom a fairy has bequeathed in his cradle the love of masks and disguises, the hate of home and the passion of travel.

And yet to wine, to opium even, I prefer the elixir of your lips on which love flaunts itself.

My head is quite literally becoming a diseased volcano. Great storms and mighty dawns.

Sudden as a knife you thrust into my sorry heart and strong as a host of demons came, gaudy and libertine, to make in my corrupted mind your bed and bedlam there; Beast, who bind me to you close as convict to his chains.

Sexuality is the lyricism of the masses.

To me, writing is not a profession. You might as well call living a profession. Or having children. Anything you can't help doing.

From the desert I come to theeOn a stallion shod with fire,And the winds are left behindIn the speed of my desire.

I love thee, I love but thee, With a love that shall not die Till the sun grows cold, And the stars are old

I've always loved the old epics that tell a simple emotional story, whether it's the tumultuous relationship between Rhett and Scarlett or Lawrence of Arabia's passion to get lost in a faraway place.