Quotes About Passion

carried me into the bedroom and tossed me onto the bed. "Five minutes," he said, lacing his shoes.

Morelli was an amazing lover, but Ranger was magic.

fault." Ranger tightened his hold on my neck.

Poppies bleed petals of sheer excess. You and I, this sweet battle ground.

She kissed me on the mouth. Her mouth tasted like iced coffee and cardamom, and I was overwhelmed by the taste, her hot skin and the smell of unwashed hair. I was confused, but not unwilling. I would have let her do anything to me.

Love humiliates you, hatred cradles you.

They dream of men with gentle hands, eloquent with tenderness, fingers that brushed along a cheek, that outlined open lips in the lovers' braille. Hands that sculpted sweetness from sullen flesh, that traced breast and ignited hips, opening, kneading. Flesh becomes bread in the heat of those hands, braided and rising.

Lovers who kill each other will blame it on the wind.

love is temperamental. tiring. it makes demands. love uses you. changes its mind.

We strive for beauty and balance, the sensual over the sentimental.

Someday I would have lovers and write a poem after

Reading LOVE JUNKIE is like watching a sleepwalker taking a stroll on a freeway. All you can do is pray. Gorgeously written, piercingly honest.

For she is my love, and other women are but big bodies of flame.

If this was a sandalwood pyre she would have thrown herself in and this paper she'd become would have caught fire and she and him could sail away like two birds.

Isn't it funny. I'm enjoying my hatred so much more than I ever enjoyed love. Love is temperamental. Tiring. It makes demands. Love uses you, changes its mind. But hatred, now, that's something you can use. Sculpt. Wield. It's hard, or soft, however you need it. Love humiliates you, but Hatred cradles you. It's so soothing. I feel infinitely better now.

I decided that if I was never going to sell anything as long as I lived, I might as well do what I want to do 'cause then at least I would've done what I wanted to do in life. What's that worth?

There was no God there was only what you wanted.

He could see the flames in my hair, he knew my lips would scorch him.

It was a shrine. Josie hadn't thought to do that. She had no shrine, no candles. She only knew how to kill the thing she loved

cariño, eso es lo que pasa cuando te enamoras. Estás viendo una catástrofe de la naturaleza.

Honey, this is what happens when you fall in love. You're looking at a natural disaster.

People want a little magic. Sex is its theater. There are sliding panels and trapdoors.

My freckles felt like they would burst into flame.

She could steal my soul. She was already doing it. But who else did I have, what other beauty was there?