Quotes About Passion

It seemed as though Theodore's passion for Alice far exceeded his genuine knowledge of her.

She was never satisfied with anything less than perfection, but she was no grind. She was too interested in people.

A book," Nellie confided in her diary, "has more fascination for me than anything else.

His one passion was for the game of golf, which Roosevelt found excruciatingly dull and slow.

Will wrote frequently to Nellie, describing his daily routine in detail only a lover would not find exhausting.

Every man is said to have his peculiar ambition

Whatever it is that you do, if you have that passion and desire for it, that's the most important thing.

What convinces is conviction," Johnson liked to say. "You simply have to believe in the argument you are advancing." In this instance, Johnson spoke directly from the heart.

I don't know much about creative writing programs. But they're not telling the truth if they don't teach, one, that writing is hard work, and, two, that you have to give up a great deal of life, your personal life, to be a writer.

I write because I've always written, can't stop. I am a writing animal. The way a silk worm is a silk-producing animal.

It is not too much to say that when the word blood is pronounced, this is a sign that reason is about to depart.

When a woman begins making love with a new man, a creature is born in her - of emotional and sexual responses that grows in its own laws, its own logic.

It is not too much to say that when the word blood is pronounced, this is a sign that reason is about to depart.

It is no accident that the photographer becomes a photographer any more than the lion tamer becomes a lion tamer.

I did not begin with craft, I began with strong feelings and worked toward craft.

Before I published any of my own stories, I read a great many stories by people as passionate about writing as I was, and I learned something from everyone I read -- something most important what I should not try to write.

I would imagine being tied up and put in a haystack while someone put the dry, stale straw ablaze. I would picture it perfectly while rocking on my hand. The daydream was about struggling to get free while the fire burned hotter and closer. I am not sure if I came when the fire reached me or after I had imagined escaping it. But I came. I orgasmed on my hand to the dream of fire.

We wanted a feminist revolution. I wanted it like a lover. I wanted it like justice.

Take me like a turtle whose shell must be cracked, whose heart is ice, who needs your heat. Love me like a warrior, sweat up to your earlobes and all your hope between your teeth. Love me so I know I am at least as important as anything you have ever wanted.

The holy act of sex, my sex, done in your name, done for the only, the best reason. Because we want it.

I was born when he kissed me, I died when he left me, I lived a few weeks while he loved me

You are a mathematician,' John Dee said. 'I am a musician,' said Lymond.

It isn't that music doesn't matter: the reverse, as it happens. So my defences against it are very strong. Can you understand that?

What Mr Blyth has been engaged in was not love, my dear Francis. It was romance, a thing to which Mr Blyth has been very prone; together with melodrama. Whatever made you think that melodrama makes Mr Blyth uncomfortable? He revels in it.