Quotes About Passion

It was a stolen type of kiss.

Eu morreria por você. Mas não viveria por você.

I am very in love with Sam, and it hurts very much.

Live live to the fullest! Or else...you won't.

Flying is like sex—I've never had all I wanted but occasionally I've had all I could stand.

We derive the greatest pleasure and fulfillment when all our faculties are drawn together into our life's work. In this state of absorption, we experience extraordinary satisfaction. We human beings are attracted to the experience of intense involvement. The outcome of this involvement, says Hokusai, is sublime. "By ninety I will have penetrated to their essential nature." Hokusai's lesson, finally, is that a life of passion for dharma is a fulfilled

Am I living fully right now? Am I bringing forth everything I can bring forth? Am I digging down into that ineffable inner treasure-house that I know is in there? That trove of genius? Am I living my life's calling? Am I willing to go to any lengths to offer my genius to the world?

When you engage in a work that taps your talent and fuels your passion -- that rises out of a great need in the world that you feel drawn by conscience to meet -- therein lies your voice, your calling, your soul's code.

if a man loves a woman better than the whole universe, how much does he love the whole universe?

She kissed me again, reaching that place that sends messages to toes and fingertips, then all the way to something like home. Some music was playing on its own. Nothing like a woman who knows to kiss the right thing at the right time, then kisses the things she's missed…

the human eye is lustful; it craves the novel, the unusual, the spectacular.

whom only the excitement of combat exceeded the joy

If you're gonna play, play. Don't play!

In Italy everything is more romantic. I can also be in bed with ten girls, but I love these ten girls.

Enthusiats are used to being mocked, maligned and misunderstood. We don't really mind.

When lust descends, discretion, common sense and wisdom fly off and what may seem cunning concealment to one in the grip of passion looks like transparently clumsy idiocy to everyone else.

She loved him, in fact; his violence and strength appealed to some deep part of her. He in turn grew to love her, so far as such a violent brute was capable of the emotion. Love and war, Venus and Mars, have always had a strong affinity. No one quite knows why, but plenty of money has been made trying to find an answer.

You can never hope to recapture the first fine careless rapture

Anger fed him and clothed him and he owed it much.

You want poetry, first you have to muck in with humanity, you have to fight with paper and pencil for weeks and weeks until your heart bleeds: verses aren't channelled into your head by angels or muses or sprites of nature.

Real hot, fierce, flickering, flaming fire to enable them to melt, smelt, roast, toast, boil, broil, fashion and forge;

It is simply a question of fulfilment. You feel perfectly alive and magnificently perfected by the knowledge that you are doing what you were put on earth to do.

If that kind of poetry doesn't make your bosom heave then I fear we shall never be friends.

My mother has an absolute passion for sour fruit and can strip a gooseberry bush quicker than a priest can strip a choirboy.