Quotes About Passion

I think if you have something that you really love to do, you're already ahead of ninety-nine percent of the people out there in the world.

I was torturing the fire, giving it life, and snuffing it out.

Cooking a meal that would be consumed in fifteen minutes had no appeal when she could make a painting that might last forever.

aficionados of the weather. We'd follow a storm

Some love too little, some too long, Some sell, and others buy; Some do the deed with many tears, And some without a sigh: For each man kills the thing he loves, Yet each man does not die.

I like such kisses. They fill the mouth and leave the body free. To kiss well one must kiss solely. No groping hands or stammering hearts. The lips and the lips alone are the pleasure. Passion is sweeter split strand by strand. Divided and re-divided like mercury then gathered up only at the last moment.

You know, it's quite a job starting to love somebody. You have to have energy, generosity, blindness. There is even a moment, in the very beginning, when you have to jump across a precipice: if you think about it you don't do it.

Life is a useless passion.

We must act out passion before we can feel it.

man is condemned to be free. Condemned, because he did not create himself, in other respect is free; because, once thrown into the world, he is responsible for everything he does. The Existentialist does not believe in the power of passion. He will never agree that a sweeping passion is a ravaging torrent which fatally leads a man to certain acts and is therefore an excuse. He thinks that man is responsible for his passion.

My passion was dead. For years it had rolled over and submerged me; now I felt empty. But that wasn't the worst: before me, posed with a sort of indolence, was a voluminous, insipid idea. I did not see clearly what it was, but it sickened me so much I couldn't look at it.

You exaggerate everything. You continually force the truth because you're always looking for something.

Love or hatred calls for self-surrender. He cuts a fine figure, the warm-blooded, prosperous man, solidly entrenched in his well-being, who one fine day surrenders all to love—or to hatred; himself, his house, his land, his memories.

Reflection poisons desire.

Man is a useless passion. It is meaningless that we live and it is meaningless that we die.

I see the insipid flesh blossoming and palpitating with abandon.

man is a useless passion.

That is the idea I shall try to convey when I say that man is condemned to be free. Condemned, because he did not create himself, yet, in other respects is free; because, once thrown into the world, he is responsible for everything he does. The existentialist does not believe in the power of passion. He will never agree that a sweeping passion is a ravaging torrent which fatally leads a man to certain acts and is therefore an excuse. He thinks that man is responsible for his passion.

Lo sé. Sé que nunca más encontraré nada ni nadie que me inspire pasión. Tú sabes que ponerse a querer a alguien es una hazaña. Se necesita una energía, una generosidad, una ceguera... Hasta hay un momento, al principio mismo, en que es preciso saltar un precipicio; si uno reflexiona, no lo hace. Sé que nunca más saltaré.

The Myth of Sisyphus, that it was not acceptable for the absurd person to commit suicide, but that to live, and live rebelliously, "with my revolt, my freedom, and my passion," was the best way of both acknowledging and rejecting death.

Every human reality is a passion in that it projects losing itself so as to found being and by the same stroke to constitute the In-itself which escapes contingency by being its own foundation, the Ens causa sui, which religions call God. Thus the passion of man is the reverse of that of Christ, for man loses himself as man in order that God may be born. But the idea of God is contradictory and we lose ourselves in vain. Man is a useless passion.

Thirdly, the existent individual is impassioned, impassioned with a passionate thought; he is inspired; he is a kind of incarnation of the infinite in the finite. This passion which animates the existent (and this brings us to the fourth characteristic) is what Kierkegaard calls "the passion of freedom.

My work's never been accepted by my family, but it's something I'll always carry on with.

I'm right at a time when I'm strongly finding my identity inside of my work.