Quotes About Passion

Those who have been in the grip of passion will know its suffocating strength. It shuts down all the normal senses, occludes judgement, leaves one feeling weak and fevered.

believed in honour but in instinct too, in impulsiveness and defiance and throwing caution to the wind. She would never have wanted him to choose convention over the call of his own heart.

Liberty is the most jealous and exacting mistress that can beguile the soul and brain of man.

Every month when the bills came in, there was trouble. Mother seemed to have no great extravagances. But she loved pretty things. She had a passion for china, for instance. She saw hundreds of beautiful cups and saucers that it was hard to walk away from and leave. She knew she couldn't buy them, and mustn't, but every so often she did. No one purchase seemed large by itself, but they kept mounting up, and Father declared that she bought more china than the Windsor Hotel.

Love is now, is always. All that is missing is the coup de grâce- which is called passion.

For one has the right to shout. So, I am shouting.

I am not an intellectual, I write with my body. And what I write is a moist fog.

She knew what desire was — though she didn't know she knew. It was like this: she was starving but not for food, it was a kind of painful taste that rose from the pit of her stomach and made her nipples quiver and her arms empty without an embrace.

I, who called love my hope for love.

I want to seize my is. And like a bird I sing hallelujah into the air. And my song belongs to no one. But no passion suffered in pain and love is not followed by an hallelujah.

Ah, meu amor, não tenhas medo da carência: ela é o nosso destino maior. O amor é tão mais fatal do que eu havia pensado, o amor é tão inerente quanto a própria carência, e nós somos garantidos por uma necessidade que se renovará continuamente. O amor já está, está sempre. Falta apenas o golpe da graça - que se chama paixão.

Macabéa had a passion for horror films and musicals. She especially liked films where the women were hanged or shot through the heart with a bullet. It never dawned on her that she herself was a suicide case even though she had never contemplated killing herself. Her life was duller than plain bread and butter.

Pero cada vez la odiaba más porque no podía amarla

Às vezes sentava-me na rede, balançando-me com o livro aberto no colo, sem tocá-lo, em êxtase puríssimo. Não era mais uma menina com um livro: era uma mulher com o seu amante.

She saw dark, triumphant crimson in herself. What was making her glow so much? Boredom… Yes, in spite of everything there was fire under it, there was fire even when it represented death. Maybe this was the joy of living.

There is something here that frightens me. When I figure out what it is that frightens me, I shall also know what I love here. Fear has always guided me toward what I desire. And because I desire, I fear. Often it was fear that took me by the hand and led me. Fear leads me to danger. And everything I love is risky.

Yet around her things were living so violently sometimes. The sun was fire, the earth solid and possible, plants were sprouting alive, trembling, whimsical, houses were made so that in them bodies could be sheltered, arms would wrap around waists, for every being and for every thing there was another being and another thing in a union that was a burning end with nothing beyond.

but the crime is more important than the punishment. I enliven all of me in my happy instinct for destruction.

In no sense an intellectual, I write with my body.

Queria tanto morrer de saúde. Como quem explode. Éclate é melhor: j'éclate.

Suddenly I was crying. It was already love.

What trips up my life is writing.

One thing I do know: love, however violent, is pure. And that is how I have come to discover that I am not pure.

Tengo que pagar el precio. El precio de quien tiene un pasado que sólo se renueva con pasión en el extraño presente. Cuando pienso en lo que ya he vivido me parece que he ido dejando mis cuerpos por el camino.