Quotes About Passion

Oh my Carmen, my little Carmen! Something, something, those something nights, And the stars, and the cars, and the bars, and the barmen - And, O my charmin', our dreadful fights. And the something town where so gaily, arm in Arm we went, and our final row, And the gun I killed you with, O my Carmen, The gun I am holding now.

throb-and-sob idol

Te quería, era un monstruo pentápodo, pero te queria. Era despreciable y brutal, y lascivo, y cuanto pueda imaginarse, mais je t'aimais, je t'aimais! Y habia momentos en que sabia todo cuanto sentias y saberlo era un infierno, pequeña mia

Love, most likely. They don't know how dreary it is, how degrading.

It is all part of the fun of being young and alive and beautiful

What mad hope or hate makes the young beast's flanks pulsate, what black stars pierce the heart of the tamer!

Nos enamoramos simultáneamente, de una manera frenética, impúdica, agonizante. Y desesperada, debería agregar, porque este arrebato de mutua posesión sólo se habría saciado si cada uno se hubiera embebido y saturado realmente de cada partícula del alma y el corazón del otro; pero ahí nos quedábamos ambos, incapaces hasta de encontrar esas oportunidades de juntarnos que habrían sido tan fáciles para los chicos callejeros.

only for great sleepless artists who had to die for a few hours in order to live for centuries

I gave her to hold in her awkward fist the scepter of my passion

iar contactele acestea incomplete au împins trupurile noastre s?n?toase, tinere È™i lipsite de experien?? într-o asemenea exasperare, încât nu se mai putea liniÈ™ti nici m?car apa albastr? È™i r?coroas? sub care noi doi ne È›ineam înc? ag??aÈ›i unul de altul.

O my Carmen, my little Carmen! Something, something those something nights, And the stars, and the cars, and the bars, and the     barmen – And, O my charmin', our dreadful fights. And the something town where so gaily, arm in Arm, we went, and our final row, And the gun I killed you with, O my Carmen, The gun I am holding now. (Drew his .32 automatic, I guess, and put a bullet through his moll's eye.) Fourteen

I have no desires, save the desire to express myself- in defiance of all the world's muteness.

I adore her so horribly. No: 'horribly' is the wrong word. The elation with which the vision of new delights filled me was not horrible but pathetic. I qualify it as pathetic. Pathetic – because despite the insatiable fire of my venereal appetite, I intended, with the most fervent force and foresight, to protect the purity of that twelve-year-old child. And

She would try to relieve the pain of love by first roughly rubbing her dry lips against mine; ...while with a generosity that was ready to offer her everything, my heart, my throat, my entrails, I gave her to hold in her awkward fist the scepter of my passion.

I heard my sweetheart running up the stairs. My heart expanded with such force that it almost blotted me out. I hitched up the pants of my pajamas, flung the door open: and simultaneously Lolita arrived, in her Sunday frock, stamping, panting, and then she was in my arms, her innocent mouth melting under the ferocious pressure of dark male jaws, my palpitating darling!

Enchia-me o peito uma tempestade de soluços.

I was passionately parched; but she began to whimper in an unusually dreary way when I attempted to fondle her

my own desire for her blinds me when she is near

Lolita, luz de mi vida, fuego de mis entrañas. Pecado mío alma mía . Lo-li-ta: la punta de la lengua emprende un viaje de tres pasos paladar abajo hasta apoyarse, en el tercero, en el borde de los dientes. Lo. Li. Ta.

I said nothing. I pushed her softness back into the room and went in after her. I ripped her shirt off. I unzipped the rest of her, I tore off her sandals. Wildly, I pursued the shadow of her infidelity; but the scent I traveled upon was so slight as to be practically undistinguishable from a madman's fancy.

He was an amateur of sex lore

The melacholy and the tenderness of mortal life; the passion and the pain; The claret tailight of that dwindling plane Off Hesperus; your gesture dismay On running out of cigarettes; the way You smile at dogs; the trail of silver slime Snails leave or flagstone; this good ink, this rhyme. This index card, this slender rubber band Which always forms, when dropped, an ampersand, Are found in Heaven by the newlydead Stored in its strongholds through the years.

sex is but the ancilla of art

I could not kill her, of course, as some have thought. You see, I loved her. It was love at first sight, at last sight, at ever and ever sight.