Quotes About Passion

Love itself is what is left over when being "in love" has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident.

Love is not breathlessness; It is not excitement; It is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion. That is just being "in love", which any of us can convince ourselves we are. Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident.

I hope to devote all of my spare time, which ordinarily would go to research, my summers, and every ounce of strength I can muster to further the project.

Dance for yourself. If someone understands, good. If not, no matter. Go right on doing what interests you, and do it until it stops interesting you.

Jazz is my childhood.

A man who works with his hands is a laborer; a man who works with his hands and his brain is a craftsman; but a man who works with his hands and his brain and his heart is an artist.

A man who works with his hands is a laborer. A man who works with his hands and his brain is a craftsman. A man who works with his hands, brain and heart is an artist.

Lewis - "Why did you hit Brian over the head with the cricket bat?" Bev - "Because I love him, there was no other way to get his attention.

Om het even welke kleur bevalt me, als ze maar rood is.

Wie is nu dichter en wie niet? Gij en ik kunnen het zijn, zonder het misschien zelf te weten! In u kan een verlangen zijn, een vreemde stuwkracht die u naar de pen doet grijpen om neer te schrijven wat ge gezien, gehoord en zeer diep gevoeld hebt. Het moet niet altijd in rijm zijn om kunst te zijn.

Op de slaapkamer sloten we voor alle veiligheid en vuiligheid de deur af, want je kàn nooit weten. Daar kleedde ook hij zich helemaal uit, als een naakte God, en toen ik z'n wiebel zoende stond die te trillen van aandoening.(...)

Ik wentelde me naar hem toe en legde me met wijdgeopende muis over z'n stijve boodschapper neer. Ik zei hem dat ik z'n fluit wou, dat ik er heet naar lag, dat ik ze binnen in me kut moest hebben. Me muis heeft honger naar je stijve zaadworst, zei ik hem. Ik weet niet wat ik d'r allemaal nog uitflapte (...)

Si pudiese volver a vivir mi vida, no elegiría por cierto el ser escritor y ver pasar mis días en una sociedad retrógrada en que la aventura yace debajo de la cama, como un perro. Necesitaría una aventura-león. Me haría físico teórico para vivir en el corazón ardiente del romanticismo verdadero.

Playing a musical instrument gives much pleasure, but more so to the musician.

Won't teach any more if I can help it; don't like it; and if I can get writing enough can do much better.

A girl with eyes like hers has a will and is not ruled by anyone but a lover.

Freedom ... the sauce best beloved by the boyish soul.

I burned my life, that I might findA passion wholly of the mind,Thought divorced from eye and bone,Ecstasy come to breath alone.

There was so much to love I could not love it all;I could not love it enough.

Innocence of heart and violence of feeling are necessary in any kind of superior achievement: The arts cannot exist without them.

My knives are like a tongue - I love, I do not love, I hate. If you don't love me, I am ready to attack. I am a double-edged knife.

He understood my passion for books, which has made me perhaps the best-read idiot in the world.

Read. Read as if your life depended on it because your life as a novelist does.

So what is wild? What is wilderness? What are dreams but an internal wilderness and what is desire but a wildness of the soul?