Quotes About Passion

But chastity means passion, chastity means neurasthenia. And passion and neurasthenia mean instability.

Actual happiness always looks pretty squalid in comparison with the over-compensations for misery. And, of course, stability isn't nearly so spectacular as instability. And being contented has none of the glamour of a good fight against misfortune, none of the picturesqueness of a struggle with temptation, or a fatal overthrow by passion or doubt. Happiness is never grand.

Until all teachers are geniuses and enthusiasts, nobody will learn anything, except what they teach themselves.

happiness always looks pretty squalid in comparison with the over-compensations for misery. And, of course, stability isn't nearly so spectacular as instability. And being contented has none of the glamour of a good fight against misfortune, none of the picturesqueness of a struggle with temptation, or a fatal overthrow by passion or doubt. Happiness is never

I know quite well that one needs ridiculous, mad situations like that; one can't write really well about anything else. Why was that old fellow such a marvellous propaganda technician? Because he had so many insane, excruciating things to get excited about. You've got to be hurt and upset; otherwise you can't think of the really good, penetrating, X-rayish phrases.

The energy which wanted to expend itself in physical passion is diverted and turns the mills of the soul.

Los sentimientos proliferan en el intervalo que media entre el deseo y su realización

After an outburst, she would settle down and try to love him as reasonably as she could, making the best of his kindness, his rather detached and separate passion, his occasional and laborious essays at emotional intimacy, and finally his intelligence - that quick, comprehensive, ubiquitous intelligence that could understand everything, including emotions it could not feel and the instincts it took care not to be moved by.

La felicità effettiva sembra sempre molto squallida in confronto ai grandi compensi che la miseria trova. E si capisce anche che la stabilità non è neppure emozionante come l'instabilità. E l'essere contenti non ha nulla di affascinante al paragone di una buona lotta contro la sfortuna, nulla del pittoresco di una lotta contro la tentazione, o di una fatale sconfitta a causa della passione o del dubbio. La felicità non è mai grandiosa.

The world's stable now. People are happy; they get what they want, and they never want what they can't get. They're well off; they're safe; ignorant of passion and old age; they're plagued with no mothers or fathers; they've got no wives, or children, or lovers to feel strongly about; they're so conditioned that they practically can't help behaving as they ought to behave. And if anything should go wrong, there's soma.

is the havoc which ensues when a man with an idealistic misconception of life born of a cloistered and emotionally deprived upbringing experiences the full, sensual impact of human passion.

Actual happiness always looks pretty squalid in comparison with the overcompensations for misery. And, of course, stability isn't nearly so spectacular as instability. And being contended has none of the glamour of a good fight against misfortune, none of the picturesqueness of a struggle with temptation, or a fatal overthrow by passion or doubt. Happiness is never grand.

E é evidente que a estabilidade, como espetáculo, não chega aos calcanhares da instabilidade. E o facto de se estar satisfeito não tem nada com o encanto mágico de uma boa luta contra a desgraça, nada do pitoresco de um combate contra a tentação, ou de uma derrota fatal sob os golpes da paixão ou da dúvida. A felicidade nunca é grandiosa.

Of course it does. Actual happiness always looks pretty squalid in comparison with the over-compensations for misery. And, of course, stability isn't nearly so spectacular as instability. And being contented has none of the glamour of a good fight against misfortune, none of  the  picturesqueness  of a struggle with temptation, or a fatal overthrow by passion or doubt. Happiness is never grand.

Hug me till you drug me, honey; Kiss me till I'm in a coma: Hug me, honey, snuggly bunny; Love's as good as soma.

She knew that she belonged to this man, body and soul. Every trace of shame departed; it was burnt out by the fire that consumed her. She gave him a thousand opportunities; she fought to turn his words to serious things. He baffled her with his shallow smile and ready tongue, that twisted all topics to triviality. By six o'clock she was morally on her knees before him; she was imploring him to stay to dinner with her. He refused.

Stab your demoniac smile to my brain, Soak me in cognac, love, and cocaine

This is the Night wherein I'm lost, the Love through which I am no longer

Remember that unbalanced force is evil; that unbalanced severity is but cruelty and oppression; but that also unbalanced mercy is but weakness which would allow and abet Evil. Act passionately; think rationally; be Thyself.

Until you've got your mouth full of cocaine, you don't know what kissing is. One kiss goes on from phase to phase like one of those novels by Balzac and Zola and Romain Rolland and D. H. Lawrence and those chaps. And you never get tire. You're on fourth speed all the time, and the engine purrs like a kitten, a big white kitten with the stars in its whiskers.

And allow me again to assure you that when you've got yourself going, doing your True Will, you won't find you have any time to get bored.

O bid these strangers go ; Turn to my lips till their cup overflow ; Hurt me with kisses, kill me with desire, Consume me and destroy me with the fire Of bleeding passion straining at the heart, Touched to the core by sweetnesses that smart ; Bitten by fiery snakes, whose poisonous breath Swoons in the midnight, and dissolves to death !

Love in a night shall live and die, Love in a day shall wing and fly; Love in the Spring shall last an hour, Easily fade a spring-tide flower.

She lives in the world of Romance, in the perpetual dream of Rapture