Quotes About Passion

I became obsessed with anatomy. If I could not put Louise out of my mind I would drown myself in her. Within the clinical language, through the dispassionate view of the sucking, sweating, greedy, defecating self, I found a love-poem to Louise. I would go on knowing her, more intimately than the skin, hair and voice that I craved. I would have her plasma, her spleen, her synovial fluid. I would recognise her even when her body had long since fallen away.

Lovers are not at their best when it matters. Mouths dry up, palms sweat, conversation flags and all the time the heart is threatening to fly from the body once and for all. Lovers have been known to have heart attacks. Lovers drink too much from nervousness and cannot perform. They eat too little and faint during their fervently wished consummation.

Somewhere between fear and sex. Somewhere between God and the devil passion is and the way there is sudden and the way back is worse. I'm surprised at myself talking in this way.

Passion is sweeter split strand by strand.

I was happy but happy is an adult word. You don't have to ask a child about happy, you see it. They are or they are not. Adults talk about being happy because largely they are not. Talking about it is the same as trying to catch the wind. Much easier to let it blow all over you. This is where I disagree with the philosophers. They talk about passionate things but there is no passion in them. Never talk happiness with a philosopher.

If I am honest I will admit that I have always wanted to avoid love. Yes give me romance, give me sex, give me fights, give me all the parts of love but not the simple single word which is so complex and demands the best of me this hour this minute this forever.

?tia ea prea bine c? scriitorii sunt niÈ™te boemi obsedaÈ›i de sex care înc?lcau regulile È™i nu se duceau la munc?.

That's why he hates him so much. He disappointed him. Passion does not take disappointment well. What is more humiliating than finding the object of your love unworthy?

Somewhere between fear and sex. Somewhere between God and the devil passion is and the way there is sudden and the way back is worse.

What are the unreal things but the passion that once burned one like a fire? What are the incredible things but the things that one has faithfully believed? What are the improbable things but the things that one has done oneself?

Surely a god can meet passion with passion.

Love is vivid. I never wanted the pale version.. Love is full strenght. I never wanted the diluted version. I never shied away from love's hugeness but I had no idea that love could be as reliable as the sun. The daily rising of love.

In spite of what the monks say, you can meet God without getting up early. You can meet God lounging in the pew. The hardship is a man-made device because man cannot exist without passion. Religion is somewhere between fear and sex. And God? truly? In his own right, without our voices speaking for him? Obsessed, I think, but not passionate.

El amor es tan fuerte como la muerte.

Living with life is very hard. Mostly we do our best to stifle life - to be tame or to be wanton. To be tranquillised or raging. Extremes have the same effect; they insulate us from the intensity of life. And extremes - whether of dullness or fury - successfully prevent feeling.

What other places are there in the world than those discovered on a lover's body?

She knew full well that writers were sex-crazed bohemians who broke the rules and didn't go out to work.

I kissed her, and forgot death.

I am in love with her; not a fantasy or a myth or a creature of my own making. Her. A person who is not me. I invented Bonaparte as much as he invented himself. My passion for her, even though she could never return it, showed me the difference between inventing a lover and falling in love. The one is about you, the other about someone else.

I was happy but happy is an adult word. You don't have to ask a child about happy, you see it. They are or they are not. Adults talk about being happy because largely they are not. Talking about it is the same as trying to catch the wind. Much easier to let it blow all over you. This is where I disagree with the philosophers. They talk about passionate things but there is no passion in them. Never talk happiness with a philosopher.

Love affairs are discoveries of new worlds.

Fools stay in love. I am a fool.

I would love you as a bird loves flight, as meat loves salt, as a dog loves chase, as water finds its own level. Or I would not love you at all.

You don't have to get into writing – it's not like a pair of jeans... The only way to write is to write – the rest may or not follow.