Quotes About Passion

My own brain is to me the most unaccountable of machinery—always buzzing, humming, soaring roaring diving, and then buried in mud. And why? What's this passion for?

Writing was what I did best, better than being a daughter or girlfriend or sister. Writing was me.

He throws his arms out over his head, fists clenched, and shouts: 'Open your eyes and look at me! I'm right bloody here!' He shouts all the things he hates and wants to change until his voice is hoarse. Then he nods over at me. 'Your turn.

Fall in love more often.Love the journey, not just the result-Camryn Manheim

You're going through your menopause and you thought you were in love.

I woke up this morning," Gabriel said, "thinking of nothing more than rolling over and pulling you into my arms and kissing you again. Kissing: only kissing. As if I were a green boy of fourteen. In case you don't realize it, Kate, kissing is not a man's usual inclination in the morning.

You're the only one for me. I came back from the dead for you, Daisy. Twice.

I've seen you by candlelight, and midday, and firelight--and in a thunderstorm. And if I were struck blind as I stand here I would see you till I die as you are now, with tears on your cheeks, because I don't take you in my arms and fight the whole boiling lot of them for you!

True confessions are written with tears only. But my tears would drown the world, as my inner fire would reduce it to ashes.

Crever pour crever, je préfère crever de passion que de crever d'ennui !

Il n'y a rien comme l'amour pour donner du courage aux jeunes gens.

The passion for defiling things was inborn in her. It was not enough for her to destroy them, she had to soil them too.

She wanted to live, and live fully, and to give life, she who loved life! What was the good of existing, if you couldn't give yourself?

With other women he had not been able to touch their flesh without experiencing the desire to devour it, as though ravenous with an abominable hunger to butcher them. But this one, could he then love her, and not kill her?

They again kissed each other and fell asleep. The patch of light on the ceiling now seemed to be assuming the shape of a terrified eye, that stared wildly and fixedly upon the pale, slumbering couple who reeked with crime beneath their very sheets, and dreamt they could see a rain of blood falling in big drops, which turned into golden coins as they plashed upon the floor.

In love as as in speculation there is much filth; in love also, people think only of their own gratification; yet without love there would be no life, and the world would come to an end.

Hélène, her eyes once more raised and remote, was deep in a dream. She was Lady Rowena, she was in love, with the deep peaceful passion of a noble soul. This spring morning, the loveliness of the great city, the first wallflowers scenting her lap, had little by little melted her heart.

The couple fell one atop of the other, struck down, finding consolation, at last, in death.

Si vous me demandez ce que je viens faire en ce monde, moi artiste, je vous répondrai: je viens vivre tout haut.

Ah! si ton mari mourait... Si mon mari mourait..., répéta lentement Thérèse. Nous nous marierions ensemble, nous ne craindrions plus rien, nous jouirions largement de nos amours... Quelle bonne et douce vie!

Il a besoin de cette femme pour vivre comme on a besoin de boire et de manger.

an insane love for nudity desired but never possessed (42)

Decididamente, ela era encantadora. Assim que acabasse de comer, tomá-la-ia em seus braços e beijaria aqueles lábios grossos e róseos. Era a resolução de um tímido, um pensamento de violência que chegava a estrangular-lhe a voz.

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