Quotes About Passion

How easily comes the blood.

Remember: The spirit grows sluggish when you neglect the passions.

She is in love. It is bright within her, like a swallowed star.

Míralo! Me temo que vas a echar a arder como siga mirándote de ese modo con esos ojazos naranjas.

She didn't take away his conflicting emotions, although she could have. She didn't make him not hate her. She left his hate there, right beside the love. She thought it was funny. And it wasn't… it wasn't dislike beside lust, or some trivial pale versions of hate and love. You see, it was hate.

Her wish that first time was simple, focused, and passionate: that she would see him again. Believing she was the only way she could bring herself to leave.

Allí, junto a Akiva, incluso mientras hablaban de guerra, ciudades sitiadas y enemistad duradera, se sentía atraída hacia su inmensidad y calidez, como si fuera al mismo tiempo lugar y persona, y, contra cualquier lógica, exactamente donde se suponía que ella debía estar.

They were match and striker, each to the other. They touched and were set afire.

Her heart was gasping, empty. Whatever resistance had been in her, she gave it up. Her hands knew what they wanted: They wanted Akiva, the spark and heat of him. Even in the warmth of the Moroccan spring, she was cold, as if the only thing with a chance of warming her was him.

To have been granted so tiny a taste of the nectar of her mouth, and so brief a brush with the velvet of her lips was unspeakable cruelty. He felt set on fire.

There was a sensations in his hearts, though, as a stirring of embers. There was fire in him. It wasn't smothered, only banked, but it would burn like the wings of the seraphim before this was over.

Si el sueño elegía al soñador, entonces el suyo había elegido mal. Necesitaba a alguien mucho más audaz que él. Necesitaba trueno, avalancha, grito de guerra y torbellino. Necesitaba fuego.

No era tiempo para enamorarse

Love is an element (Akiva)

There comes a certain point with a hope or a dream, when you either give it up or give up everything else. And if you choose the dream, if you keep on going, then you can never quit, because it's all you are.

Life won't just happen to you, boy. You have to happen to it. Remember: the spirit grows sluggish when you neglect the passions.

Tienes razón. Muy aburrida. Empezaré a coleccionar sellos. Eso es interesante, ¿no? - No. A menos que te los vayas a pegar por el cuerpo y los utilices como ropa.

Love is a luxury." "No. Love is an element.

It was what she had always wanted and thought that she'd found: someone who was for her, as she was for him, whose blood and butterflies sang to hers and answered them, note for note.

I zapami?taj sobie: duch marnieje, kiedy cz?owiek odrzuca swoje pasje.

Now, in the full flush of health and the blood-thrum of love, he was golden. He was ardent, gazing at her, hopeful and expectant, inspired, beguiled, glad. He was so alive. Because of her, he was alive.

El amor es un lujo. - No. El amor es un elemento.

Eran como acero y pedernal: se tocaban y se prendían fuego.

He shook his head. His dream was in his mind and in his soul. Thyon might steal his books, but he couldn't steal that.