To die for the sake of dying – I prefer to die of passion than to die of boredom![Crever pour crever – je préfère crever de passion que de crever d’ennui!]
Passion is … it’s fire. And fire is great, man. But we’re made of water. Water is how we keep living. Water is what we need to survive.
I will kiss thy lips. Haply some poison yet doth hang on them.
What you call passion is not spiritual force, but friction between the soul and the outside world.
Thwarted passion and mortified vanity are great babblers.[Les passions trompées, les vanités froissées sont bavardes.]
These violent delights have violent ends and in their triumph die, like fire and powder, which, as they kiss, consume.
Passion and satisfaction go hand in hand, and without them, any happiness is only temporary, because there’s nothing to make it last.
Lovers and madmen have such seething brains, such shaping fantasies, that apprehend more than cool reason ever comprehends.
Give me that man that is not passion’s slave.
As soon go kindle fire with snow, as seek to quench the fire of love with words.
A man who has not passed through the inferno of his passions has never overcome them.[Ein Mensch, der nicht durch die Hölle seiner Leidenschaften gegangen ist, hat sie auch nie überwunden.]
Whoever tries to destroy the passions, instead of regulating them, tries to play the angel.[Qui veut détruire les passions, au lieu de les régler, veut faire l’ange.]
