Quotes About Passion

Unlike Francis Crawford, whose game with life was a strange and rootless affair played with the intellect, Jerott had a passionate instinct to live. It was a happy circumstance also that his nervous and bronchial systems were roughly as frail as a bison's.

I am in love-desire, and unless you take me now, I shall fall in pieces...but I do not think I can be moderate. Forgive me, forgive me...' But her breathing was as changed now as his, and all order retreating before the strength of the living force beating about them. She pressed the latch, and set the last door to lie open. 'Khush geldi: welcome: thou art come happily,' she said gently, and let him come, where he belonged, within her gouvernance.

He did not know, but could be told, that to her, his reasons for abstaining were baseless. That nothing mattered but this: that the moon was here, in her fingers.

All I gathered from that is that Francis Crawford is a raging harlot.

You have a tongue, have you not, which breaks backs? I have madness in many forms, but that which springs from the passions of the heart is not in my nature. That is all. We are all fashioned differently.

Some love for a living,' said Lymond. 'And some kill.

My dear, there is no blame, where there lives a passion like that: do we not know it? Rest at peace. We are your children; and we love you.

That night Lymond, too, broke free from the prison he had made for himself. He drank of intent, until one by one the barriers crumbled and let run loose all those qualities he possessed, like Alkibaides, of a tarnished and insolent profusion, to set alight in his fellow-men that killing flame of excitement, of passion, of pleasure.

Mother of God, Francis Crawford of Lymond, you've made a slut of your art, have you not, as well as a whore of yourself?

Music, the knife without a hilt.

I know what you're thinking - that anybody with proper sensitive feelings would rather scrub floors for a living. But I should scrub floors very badly, and I write detective stories rather well. I don't see why proper feelings should prevent me from doing my proper job.

But suppose one doesn't quite know which one wants to put first. Suppose, said Harriet, falling back on words which were not her own, suppose one is cursed with both a heart and a brain? You can usually tell, said Miss de Vine, by seeing what kind of mistakes you make. I'm quite sure that one never makes fundamental mistakes about the thing one really wants to do. Fundamental mistakes arise out of lack of genuine interest. In my opinion, that is.

Heaven deliver us, what's a poet? Something that can't go to bed without making a song about it.

I do know the worst sin--perhaps the only sin--passion can commit, is to be joyless.

Don't you know that I passionately dote on every chin on his face?

The art of change-ringing is peculiar to the English, and, like most English peculiarities, unintelligible to the rest of the world. (The change-ringer's) passion - and it is a passion - finds its satisfaction in mathematical completeness and mechanical perfection, and as his bell weaves her way rhythmically up from lead to hinder place and down again, he is filled with the solemn intoxication that comes of intricate ritual faultlessly performed.

Man is never truly himself except when he is actively creating something

I hope you won't mind, because I haven't shaved since this morning, but I'm going to take you round the next quiet corner and kiss you.

Yet no woman had ever so stirred his blood; she had only to look or speak to make the very bones shake in his body.

you were speaking just now with a good deal of feeling about Treble Bob—you are not, yourself, by any chance, a ringer?" "Well," said Wimsey, "I used at one time to pull quite a pretty rope. But whether, at this time of day——

A wide, passionate mouth — a shape so wonderful that even in that strenuous moment sixteen generations of feudal privilege stirred in Lord Peter's blood.

To her, the beauty of an ordered life was more than a mere phrase; it was a dogma to be preached, a cult to be practised with passion and concentration.

Gestures which delight in the right person are so indecent when performed by the wrong. In fact, it is only when we contemplate the loves of unpleasant people that we see the indecency of passion.

She had written what she felt herself called upon to write; and, though she was beginning to feel that she might perhaps do this thing better, she had no doubt that the thing itself was the right thing for her. It had overmastered her without her knowledge or notice, and that was the proof of its mastery.