Quotes About Passion

I imagine that the goddess of Love has come down from Olympus to visit a mortal. So as not to die of cold in this modern world of ours, she wraps her sublime body in great heavy furs and warms her feet on the prostrate body of her lover. I imagine the favorite of this beautiful despot, who is whipped when his mistress grows tired of kissing him, and whose love only grows more intense the more he is trampled underfoot. I shall call the picture Venus in Furs

Live full, die empty

Wanting something is not enough. You must hunger for it. Your motivation must be absolutely compelling in order to overcome the obstacles that will invariably come your way.

In the early days all I hoped was to make a living out of what I did best. But, since there's no real market for masturbation I had to fall back on my bass playing abilities.

I felt as though I was rushing into a burning building to discover the ideas I needed for my own life.

Gleichgültigkeit! Gleichgültigkeit an die Stelle der Liebe? - Das heißt, Nichts an die Stelle von Etwas.

It's not as if I don't have anything to read; there's a tower of perfectly good unread books next to my bed, not to mention the shelves of books in the living room I've been meaning to reread. I find myself, maddeningly, hungry for the next one, as yet unknown. I no longer try to analyze this hunger; I capitulated long ago to the book lust that's afflicted me most of my life.

I am fatally attracted to all bookstores.

For those who are afflicted with book lust, those for whom reading is more than information or escape, the road to our passion is quite simple, paved merely by the presence of the printed matter. It's a common story; fill in your own blanks: I was -- years old when I happened on a novel called --, and within six months I had read every other book by the writer known as --.

Oh, 'tis love, 'tis love, that makes the world go round!

It is not real work unless you would rather be doing something else.

burning with curiosity

I pictured myself the Queen of Hearts as sort of embodiment of ungovernable passion - a blind and aimless Fury

tis love, 'tis love, that makes the world go round!

the only painting worth anything was done with the heart.

How terrible it is to have no cares, no longings. I do not fit. I feel too deeply and want too much. As cages go, it is a gilded one, but I shall not live well in it or any cage, for that matter.

This is how the fire starts. This is how we burn.

To live is to love, to love is to live.

He wanted to hit something or someone. He wanted to burn up the whole world, heal it, and burn it down again.

There's no time to be modest. Reason will not work here. Without warning, I kiss Kartik. His lips, pressed firmly against mine, are a surprise. They are warm, light as breath, firm as the give of a peach against my mouth. A scent like scorched cinnamon hangs in the air, but I'm not falling into any vision. It's his smell in me. A smell that makes my stomach drop through my feet. A smell that pushes all thought out of my head and replaces it with an overpowering hunger for more.

But without that spark of anger, without destruction, there can be no rebirth.

She bestowed the blessing of a wild girl's lips.

He's attracted to the smell of manure, Felicity says. You might wallow in the stables to bring out the full flower of his love.

It was a kiss small in its ministrations but epic in its feeling.