Quotes About Passion

Ik kwam er achter dat ik er mijn hele leven heus niet naar had verlang om te leven - als wat anderen doen tenminste leven genoemd kan worden - maar wel om mezelf te kunnen uitdrukken.

Naast dit mensenras bestaat nog een ras van wezens, de onmenselijken, het ras der kunstenaars die, door onbekende impulsen geprikkeld, de levenloze massa van de mensen nemen en door de koortshitte en gisting die zij daarin verwekken dit kleffe deeg in brood veranderen en het brood in wijn en de wijn in zang. Uit dit dode compost en de inerte sintels brengen zij een lied voort dat besmet.

She rises up out of a sea of faces and embraces me, embraces me passionately—a thousand eyes, noses, fingers, legs, bottles, windows, purses, saucers all glaring at us and we in each other's arm oblivious. I sit down beside her and she talks—a flood of talk. Wild consumptive notes of hysteria, perversion, leprosy. I hear not a word because she is beautiful and I love her and now I am happy and willing to die.

Za sto sluzat knigite ako ne ne vrajkaat kon zivotot, ako ne uspevaat vo toa da ne nateraat da ja izgasneme zedta so pogolema alcnost.

Vivir sus deseos, agotarlos en la vida, es el destino de toda existencia.

Doi ucigaÈ™i iubindu-se pân? la moarte, din priviri. Nu este aceasta cea mai splendid? tortur??

I had to learn, as Balzac did, that one must write volumes before signing ones own name.

Dostoyevski okumaya baÅŸlad???m o ilk gece, hayat?m?n en önemli olaylar?ndan biriydi, ilk aÅŸk?mdan bile daha önemli.

The age demands violence, but we are getting only abortive explosions. Revolutions are nipped in the bud, or else succeed too quickly. Passion is quickly exhausted. Men fall back on ideas, comme d'habitude. Nothing is proposed that can last more than twenty-four hours. We are living a million lives in the space of a generation.

One can't get bored with sex. But one is bored with making such a tremendous issue about it.

What attracted me to her was her passion for Balzac. All the way home, she was talking to me about 'Lost Illusions'. The car was packed, and we were jammed so tight together that it didn't make any difference what we were talking about because we were only thinking of one thing.

Vreau s? ucid c?rÈ›i,scriitori,editori,cititori.A scrie pentru public nu înseamn? absolut nimic pentru mine.Eu aÈ™ vrea s? scriu pentru nebuni- sau pentru îngeri.

the only time a writer receives his due reward is when someone comes to him burning with this flame which he fanned in a moment of solitude, honest criticism means nothing, what one wants is unrestrained passion, fire for fire

Baudelaire merely laid his heart bare; Rimbaud plucks his out and devours it slowly.

Ma faiblesse à moi, c'est de crier sur les toits chaque fois que je crois avoir découvert quelque chose qui me paraisse d'une importance vitale.

There will be oceans of space in which to move about, to perambulate, to sing, to dance, to climb, to bathe, to leap somersaults, to whine, to rape, to murder.

No one is born an artist. One elects for it! And when you elect to be the first and last among men you find nothing strange about sleeping with a donkey, putting your paws in the garbage pail, or swallowing reproaches and insults from all the near and dear ones who regard your way of life as a grave mistake.

The word must become flesh; the soul thirsts. On whatever crumb my eye fastens, I will pounce and devour. If to live is the paramount thing, then I will live, even if I must become a cannibal.

I hear not a word because she is beautiful and I love her and now I am happy and willing to die.

I don't care what happens. I love you and that's what I wanted to say over the phone. That's what I wanted to write. I love you. Let things go to smash. I love you.

I understood then why it is that Paris attracts the tortured, the hallucinated, the great maniacs of love.

Quien, por un amor demasiado grande, lo que al fin y al cabo es monstruoso, muere de sufrimiento, renace para no conocer ni amor ni odio, sino para disfrutar. Y ese disfrute de la vida, por haberse adquirido de forma no natural, es un veneno que tarde temprano corrompe al mundo entero. Lo que nace más allá de los límites del sufrimiento humano actúa como un boomerang y provoca destrucción.

until the heart bursts and there is nothing left but a blinding, scorching light, the radiant light that carries off the fecundated seeds of the stars. The story of art which roots lie in massacre.

Quien, por un amor demasiado grande, lo que al fin y al cabo es monstruoso, muere de sufrimiento, renace para no conocer ni amor no odio, sino para disfrutar. Y ese disfrute de la vida, por haberse adquirido de forma no natural, es un veneno que tarde o temprano corrompe el mundo entero.