All Quotes By Tag: Passion

“Never give a woman flowers to say I love you . Tell her how much you love her and you will wake up looking at the flowers beside her bed.”

“To feel aroused is to feel alive. Having great sex is like taking in huge lungfuls of fresh air, essential to your body, essential to your health, and essential to your life.”

“There was a lot about Kim and J.P. he didn’t get…. he was confused by their lack of romance. As a father, he was at times grateful for that missing intensity, but as a man who liked to surprise his wife with flowers, it baffled him. Maybe he was old-fashioned, but to him a couple meant a strong bond, with positive and negative charges constantly arcing between them. He’d never seen Kim and J.P. kiss, let alone argue.”

“What could be worse than losing part of your life?Losing the capacity for passion and hope, being left alive but with no emotions other than bitterness and despair.”

“He pulled her close kissing her mouth taking her by surprise. He stepped back passion smoldering in his eyes. She looked at him touching her mouth where his kiss still burned.”

“You cannot mistake thisYou cannot reinvent this moment You cannot call this loveIt is so much more”

“His tender tone turned her heart over. She obliged, tilting her head back slightly and looking up at him in the firelit darkness. When he bent his head and his mouth met hers, she gave a little sigh, her lips parting slightly in surprise and expectation. He kissed her with the same sure decisiveness with which he did everything else, his mouth trailing to her cheek and chin and ear, returning again and again to her mouth and lingering there, his breath mingling with her own. She felt adrift in small, sharp bursts of pleasure. Was this how a man was suppose to kiss a woman? Tenderly… firmly… repeatedly? His fingers fanned through her hair till the pins gave way and wayward locks spilled like black ribbon to the small of her back. In answer, her arms circled his neck, bringing him nearer, every kiss sweeter and surer than the one before. Soon they were lost in a haze of sighs and murmurs and caresses.”

“The second he slipped inside of me, all I’d doubted, questioned, or feared evaporated, leaving me with one single, definite truth–I’d fallen in love with him in an all-consuming blaze that would blind me if I wasn’t careful. We fit together like poorly cut puzzle pieces, but when the edges joined and were positioned just right, our scattered images came together to create a solid, deliberate piece of art, completely crystal clear and in focus. I was a goner.”

“My tongue remembers your wounded flavor.The vein in my neckadores you. A swordstands up between my hips,my hidden fleece sends forth its scent of human oil.”

“RaptureI can feel she has got out of bed.That means it is seven a.m.I have been lying with eyes shut,thinking, or possibly dreaming,of how she might look if, at breakfast,I spoke about the hidden place in herwhich, to me, is like a soprano’s tremolo,and right then, over toast and bramble jelly,if such things are possible, she came.I imagine she would show it while trying to conceal it.I imagine her hair would fall about her faceand she would become apparently downcast,as she does at a concert when she is moved.The hypnopompic play passes, and I open my eyesand there she is, next to the bed,bending to a low drawer, picking overvarious small smooth black, white,and pink items of underwear. She bendsso low her back runs parallel to the earth,but there is no sway in it, there is little burden, the day has hardly begun.The two mounds of muscles for walking, leaping, lovemaking,lift toward the east—what can I say?Simile is useless; there is nothing like them on earth.Her breasts fall full; the nipplesare deep pink in the glare shining up through the iron barsof the gate under the earth where those who could not lovepress, wanting to be born again.I reach out and take her wristand she falls back into bed and at once starts unbuttoning my pajamas.Later, when I open my eyes, there she is again,rummaging in the same low drawer.The clock shows eight. Hmmm.With huge, silent effort of great,mounded muscles the earth has been turning.She takes a piece of silken clothfrom the drawer and stands up. Under the fallsof hair her face has become quiet and downcast,as if she will be, all day among strangers,looking down inside herself at our rapture.”

“lean in to kiss mein all the placeswhere the acheis the most special.”

“It was the wildness of it that got me going: the primal lust, the sheer needs of two people in heat, quickly finding ways to express their sacred hunger to each other in animal passion.”

“The only way to thrive in the future is to focus on what you love, develop knowledge and skills in the service of your passion, and be relentless in doing the work.”

“[A]s people are beginning to see that the sexes form in a certain sense a continuous group, so they are beginning to see that Love and Friendship which have been so often set apart from each other as things distinct are in reality closely related and shade imperceptibly into each other. Women are beginning to demand that Marriage shall mean Friendship as well as Passion; that a comrade-like Equality shall be included in the word Love; and it is recognised that from the one extreme of a ‘Platonic’ friendship (generally between persons of the same sex) up to the other extreme of passionate love (generally between persons of opposite sex) no hard and fast line can at any point be drawn effectively separating the different kinds of attachment. We know, in fact, of Friendships so romantic in sentiment that they verge into love; we know of Loves so intellectual and spiritual that they hardly dwell in the sphere of Passion.”

“Now therefore, while the youthful hue Sits on thy skin like morning dew, And while thy willing soul transpires At every pore with instant fires, Now let us sport us while we may, And now, like amorous birds of prey, Rather at once our time devour Than languish in his slow-chapped power.Let us roll all our strength and all Our sweetness up into one ball, And tear our pleasures with rough strife Thorough the iron gates of life: Thus, though we cannot make our sun Stand still, yet we will make him run.”