Quotes About Passion

At nineteen I had wanted to write. At forty I still wanted to write, and nothing that had happened in the years between made me any more certain that I could.

there was a real kiss—a sudden revelation of him in tongue and lip.

Beneath her Marks and Spencer jersey, her heart sometimes called him darling, and after two glasses of Liebfraumilch, lover.

She was striving to change, she was, but it was hard, all the same, to let go of the glory of her past certainties, of her belief in passion, and surrender, and the seductive power of giving in to inclination.

I don't pretend to know much about love, but that's how great love comes to an end, not in the flames of passion, but in the silence of regret.

If you can still write in spite of the fact that you're not getting paid, that nobody cares about what you're writing, that nobody wants to publish it, that everybody is telling you to do something else, and you still want to and you still enjoy it and you can't stop doing it...then you're a writer.

At such times I feel I could die for love of her, my little stranger, my heart swelling dangerously so that the only release is to run too, my red coat flapping around my shoulders like wings, my hair a comet's tail in the patchy blue sky.

There's also a lot of random stuff about poetry, flowers and lute music, plus kissing and cuddling (lots of this), wearing similar outfits, talking incessantly about the current object of devotion, and generally losing one's faculties.

Come to me in love, Love. Come to me in love.

Datemi del romantico, se vi va. Ma io credo nel crimine perfetto. Come il vero amore, è solo questione di tempo e pazienza.

L'amore è l'unica costante in questo difficile mondo razionale, l'amore e la sua metà oscura, l'odio.

A intensidade do amor era a mesma; a diferença é que a chama perdera o tresloucado dos primeiros dias para constituir-se um simples feixe de raios, tranquilo e constante, como nos casamentos.

A faerie heart is different from a human heart. Human hearts are elastic. They have room for all sorts of passions, and they can break and heal and love again and again. Faerie hearts are evolutionarily less sophisticated. They are small and hard, like tiny grains of sand. Our hearts are too small to love more than one person in a lifetime.

true love is felonious… You take someone's breath away… You rob them of the ability to utter a single word… You steal a heart.

So much of the language of love was like that: you devoured someone with your eyes, you drank in the sight of him, you swallowed him whole. Love was substance, broken down and beating through your bloodstream.

If it had been easy for Romeo to get to Juliet, nobody would have cared. Same goes for Cyrano and Don Quixote and Gatsby and their respective paramours. What captures the imagination is watching men throw themselves at a brick wall over and over again, and wondering if this is the time that they won't be able to get back up.

What we all want, really, is to be loved. That craving drives our worst behavior.

love doesn't follow the rules... nothing is worth having so much as something unattainable.

I wanted him to feel what I felt when I was with him: that incredible combination of comfort, decadence, and wonder; the knowledge that, with just a single taste of him, I was addicted.

I know what love is. When you find the person you are supposed to love, bells ring and fireworks go off in your head and you can't find the words to speak and you think about him all the time. When you find the person you are supposed to love, you will know by staring deeply into their eyes.

She wanted him to tell her that when you love someone so hard and so fierce, it was all right to do things that you knew were wrong.

When I'm with you, bells go off in my head like a moving truck that's backing up.

Love is the most dangerous craving of all, if you ask me. It turns us into people we aren't. It makes us feel like hell, and makes us walk on water. It ruins us for anything else.

The thinnest slice would be teeming with memories of a love so strong it turned you inside out and left you gasping, and would be an identical match to a slice stored in the heart of a soul mate.