Passion In Your Eyes Quotes & Sayings

In your room where time stands still
Or moves at your will.
Will you let the morning come soon,
Or will you leave me lying here?

In your favorite darkness,
Your favorite half-light,
Your favorite consciousness,
Your favorite slave.

In your room where souls disappear
Only you exist here.
Will you lead me to your armchair,
Or leave me lying here?

Your favorite innocence,
Your favorite prize,
Your favorite smile,
Your favorite slave.

In your room your burning eyes
Cause flames to arise.
Will you let the fire die down soon,
Or will I always be here?

Your favorite passion,
Your favorite game,
Your favorite mirror,
Your favorite slave.

I'm hanging on your words,
Living on your breath,
Feeling with your skin.
Will I always be here? — Martin L. Gore

We all have people who are genuinely love us, we have those who hate us with a passion and we have those who imitate us resentfully in life. But in the midst of all, your elegant thanksgiving table will be set before their eyes and they'll all be invited to celebrate your thanksgiving celebration with you. — Euginia Herlihy

These are the things in which I was so helplessly caught up, the waves that took me, what I loved. When light filled my eyes and I was restless and could move, I knew not what all the color was about, but only that I had a passion to see. And now that I am still, I pass on to you my liveliness and my life, for you will be taken, as once I was, and although you must fight beyond your capacity to fight and feel beyond your capacity to feel, remember that it ends in perfect peace, and you will be as still and content as am I, for whom centuries are not even seconds. — Mark Helprin

The mind is a machine that is constantly asking: What would I prefer? Close your eyes, refuse to move, and watch what your mind does. What it does is become discontent with That Which Is. A desire arises, you satisfy that desire, and another arises in its place. This wanting and rewanting is an endless cycle for which, turns out, there is already a name: samsara. Samsara is at the heart of the vast human carnival: greed, neurosis, mad ambition, adultery, crimes of passion, the hacking to death of a terrified man on a hillside in the name of A More Pure And Thus Perfect Nation
and all of this takes place because we believe we will be made happy once our desires have been satisfied.
I know this. But still I'm full of desire ...
Buddha Boy — George Saunders

How can you love me?" she asked, forcing herself to say the words that would kill the tenderness in his eyes. "You don't even know me. You know 'Lady Agatha,' a composite, a character, a role I played."

He shook his head, his negation gentle but certain. "I didn't fall in love with a character, a title, or an occupation. I didn't fall in love with you because of your past or despite it.
"I love you because of your intensity and passion, because you make me want to be better than I am, because seeing my reflection in your eyes makes me better than I am. I love you because you laugh easily and honestly. I love you because you carried an ugly mutt into a drawing room as though it were a prince and because you gave an old soldier a strawberry trifle. I love you, Letty. — Connie Brockway

I am in love with your sleepy voice and crooked smile.
I am in love with your passion, for me and for life.
I am in love with your wisdom, gained from what has been lost and what is to come.
I am in love with the soft curls of your hair and dark hazel eyes.
I am in love with your sensitivity, your drive to always do better and be better.
I am in love with how you take me for who I am.
I am in love with your romantic side and with your serious side.
I am in love with the comfort you emit,
your ability to be my home when you're a thousand miles away.
I am in love with how you look at me.
I am in love with your motivation and your support for my silly dreams.
I am in love with your accessibility, my shoulder to cry on, my protector at three a.m. when I have nowhere else to turn.
And I am in love with the way you love me. — Shelby Leigh

What makes the perfect kiss? Closing your eyes when you kiss is important. Or lifting up the leg, but that's more of a girl thing, I'm manly. Passion is good! She brings out the best in me. (Selena) — Justin Bieber

There is a community of the spirit. Join it, and feel the delight of walking in the noisy street and being the noise. Drink all your passion, and be a disgrace. Close both eyes to see with the other eye. — Rumi

Love is when Looking at a glance at you
I found laughter in my eyes, Thoughts turns into jewels Where luster of your aura dwells — Seema Gupta

Derek's breath touched Sara's throat in unsteady urges. "Sometimes," he whispered, "I'm so close to you ... and I'm still not close enough. I want to share your breath ... every beat of your heart."
He cradled her head in both his hands, his mouth hot on her neck. "Sometimes," he murmured, "I want to punish you a little."
"Why?"
"For making me want you until I ache with it. For the way I wake at night just to watch you sleeping." His face was intense and passionate above her, his green eyes sharp in their brightness. "I want you more each time I'm with you. It's a fever that never leaves me. I can't be alone without wondering where you are, when I can have you again." His lips possessed hers in a kiss that was both savage and tender, and she opened to him eagerly. — Lisa Kleypas

After nine nights must come ten and every desperate meeting only leaves you desperate for another. There is never enough to eat, never enough garden for your love.
So you refuse and then you discover that your house is haunted by the ghost of a leopard.
When passion comes late in life it is hard to bear.
One more night. How tempting. How innocent. I could stay tonight surely? What difference could it make, one more night? No. If I smell her skin, find the mute curves of her nakedness, she will reach in her hand and withdraw my heart like a bird's egg. I have not had time to cover my heart in barnacles to elude her. If I give in to this passion, my real life, the most solid, the best known, will disappear and I will feed on shadows again like those sad spirits whom Orpheus fled.
I wished her goodnight, touching her hand only and thankful for the dark that hid her eyes. — Jeanette Winterson

You've got this life and while you've got it, you'd better kiss like you only have one moment, try to hold someone's hand like you will never get another chance to, look into people's eyes like they're the last you'll ever see, watch someone sleeping like there's no time left, jump if you feel like jumping, run if you feel like running, play music in your head when there is none, and eat cake like it's the only one left in the world! — C. JoyBell C.

He knew then that there are many ways for a heart to break. Sometimes it's from the crowding of life, the compression of responsibility and birth right and burden that just squeezed you until you couldn't breathe anymore. Even though your lungs were working just fine.
And sometimes it's from the casual cruelty of a fate that took you far from where you had thought you would end up.
And sometimes it's age in the face of youth. Or sickness in the face of health.
But sometimes it's just because you're looking into the eyes of your lover and your gratitude for having them in your life overflows ... because you showed them what was on the inside and they didn't run scared or turn away, they accepted you and loved you and held you in the midst of your passion or your fear ... or your combination of both. — J.R. Ward

Such women as you a hundred men always convet - your eyes will only bewitch scores on scores into the unvailing fancy for you - you can only marry one of that many. Out of these say twenty will will endeavour to drown the bitterness of despised love in drink; twenty more will mope away their lives without a wish or attempt to make a mark in the world, because they have no ambition apart from their attachment to you; twenty more - the suspectible person myself possibly among them - will be always draggling after you, getting where they may just see you, doing desperate things. Men are such constant fools! The rest may try to get over their passion with more or less success. But all of these men will be saddened. And not only those ninety-nine men, but the ninety-nine women they might have married are saddened with them. There's my tale. That's why I say that a woman so charming as yourself, Miss Everdene, is hardly a blessing to her race (Ch. 26) — Thomas Hardy

Close your eyes, imagine yourself in the world of your dreams, imagine everything you ever wanted, live that moment, get the feel of it. Once you've lived that moment in your mind fully, open your eyes and get started with work, work as hard as possible, do all that it takes to live that moment in real. Just do it, it's possible. — Sharad Vivek Sagar

Her newly revealed skin was white and luminous, her body tender and abundantly curved... He closed his eyes briefly, striving to subdue this violent passion. When he opened them again, Vivien had moved away from him and hastily climbed into bed, pulling the linens over her nakedness. Her bashfulness was so genuine, so... well, virginal, that he wondered if this was what she had been like long ago, before embarking on her career as a courtesan.
"Don't cover yourself," he murmured. "Your body is too beautiful to be concealed."
The bedsheets did not lower an in inch. "I'm cold," she said breathlessly, her cheeks flushed.
"I'll warm you," he promised with a quick grin, stripping off his coat. — Lisa Kleypas

Son, I'ma tell you something ain't nobody else in the world can tell you: you got no soul. And I'ma tell your future, too: you ain't never gonna get a soul, you keep makin' people's shit small." Evan's eyes started to roll back in his head and the big man shook him like dust mop until he came back to the room. "You ain't shit, Evan, and you ain't never gonna be shit until you show some passion for something. Y'all got to love something. Y'all got to hate something. Y'all got to want something. Pissing on other people's passion 'cause you trying to be cool just make you a coward - a little bitch. — Christopher Moore

I can't stop thinking about you," he whispers.
He moves in, closer, lips pausing inches from mine. Wraps his arms around me, pulling me into him. I let out a quick gasp of air.
"I dream about you," he murmurs, eyes grasping mine.
"You don't sleep," I choke, feeling a delirious passion coursing through my veins.
"I dream about your smile. About touching you. I dream about being with you. Like this. — Katie Klein

When YOU Say YOU Love Me, I Don't Hear With My Ears Or Read YOUR Lips As I Already Know That By Looking In YOUR Eyes ... — Muhammad Imran Hasan

Then I shall tell you the truthful answers to the questions you asked, about my own intentions and motivations. They are not so simple."...
He cocked an eyebrow and his cobalt eyes took on a playful sparkle.
"If I were to avow that you are my immortal life's great passion, that I would give up immortality itself to be at your side and in your bed, you would not believe me, n'est-ce pas? — Suzanne Johnson

For the person who wants to capture everything that passes before his eyes, [...] the only coherent way to act is to snap at least one picture a minute, from the instant he opens his yes in the morning to when he goes to sleep. This is the only way that he rolls of exposed film will represent a faithful diary of our days, with nothing left out. If I were to start taking pictures, I'd see this thing through, even if it meant losing my mind. But the rest of you still insist on making a choice. What sort of choice? A choice in the idyllic sense, apologetic, consolatory, at peace with nature, the fatherland, the family. Your choice isn't only photographic; it is a choice of life, which leads you to exclude dramatic conflicts, the knots of contradiction, the great tensions of will, passion, aversion. So you think you are saving yourselves from madness, but you are falling into mediocrity, into hebetude."

- from "The Adventure of a Photographer — Italo Calvino

Now that your eyes are open, make the sun jealous with your burning passion to start the day. Make the sun jealous or stay in bed. — Malak El Halabi

He lifted her chin so she was looking directly in his eyes. "I have every faith that whatever you take on in your life, you'll do it with passion and determination, and I know you'll succeed."
And then before she could make any sort of reply, he dipped his chin and placed his lips on hers. — Barbara DeLeo

You know how they say a holy man falls seven times and gets back up?" he asked, quoting the Hebrew phrase, the ancient words flying smoothly off his tongue. I nodded.

"I always think that it isn't the persistence that makes him holy but the fact that he fell." His eyes sparkled with passion as he spoke. "You can't really commit to being religious, to loving God, if you haven't spent some time with your face in the dirt. — Leah Vincent

His eyes were cold steel, his mouth fixed in a hard line. "I like my face the way it is," he said icily. "You scar it with your nails as you did my chest and I swear I will give you equal scars. Think about that, Sam, before you use your claws again."
Tears sprang to her eyes. "You're cruel, Hank. You leave me nothing."
"And what did you leave me when you stole my heart?" he asked softly.
She stared back at him, searching his eyes, seeing only naked honesty. — Johanna Lindsey

In the Garden of Solace where
Passion flows deep;
your eyes fill with Dusk and
I Love you to Sleep.
On this night,
As Our Souls travel this Journey together;
The Universe suddenly
seems so small.
We enter your dreams' meadow,
Only in Silence do we speak;
A quiet knowing,
As I Love you to Sleep. — Renee Rentmeester

He still has the most unusually blue eyes I've ever seen. Dark and deep and drenched in passion. I always wondered what it'd be like to see the world through such a beautiful lens. I wondered if your eye color meant you saw the world differently. — Tahereh Mafi

Pity, Jane, from some people is a noxious and insulting sort of tribute, which one is justified in hurling back in the teeth of those who offer it; but that is the sort of pity native to callous, selfish hearts; it is a hybrid, egotistical pain at hearing of woes, crossed with ignorant contempt for those who have endured them. But that is not your pity, Jane; it is not the feeling of which your whole face is full at this moment - with which your eyes are now almost overflowing - with which your heart is heaving - with which your hand is trembling in mine. Your pity, my darling, is the suffering mother of love: its anguish is the very natal pang of the divine passion. I accept it, Jane; let the daughter have free advent - my arms wait to receive her. — Charlotte Bronte

There is nothing more effective in igniting a man's desire than a woman's passion. To see the fire in your eyes, to feel the fire in your blood as you touch me, it sets me on fire too. Do you imagine I would prefer to kiss a woman who responds only with -- with compliance? No, I would not. No red-blooded man would. Never apologize for passion. Restraint, Julia, has no place in lovemaking. — Marguerite Kaye

You then will lean way in to your career. You will find something you love doing and you will do it with gusto. Find the right career for you and go all the way to the top. Start out by Aiming high. Try- and try hard. I hope you find true meaning, contentment, and passion in your life. I hope you navigate the difficult times and come out with greater strength and resolve. I hope you find whatever balance you seek with your eyes wide open. — Sheryl Sandberg

His head moved down, his mouth taking hers in a kiss that held the passion of a thousand years as his body molded against her trembling frame. His lips were hard and hungry as he fought against her resistance, and he pulled his head away for a moment, looking down into her desperate eyes with no pity at all. "Open your mouth, Rachel," he said.
And closing her eyes, she did, sliding her helpless arms around his body, pulling him closer against her yearning form. Just once, she told herself. Just this once. And she gave herself up to the searching demand of his kiss. — Anne Stuart

I wonder about death, I who may never know it. It looks much like ecstacy, the way they open their mouths as they drown, the way their fingers dig into your skin. Their eyes are wide and startled and they trash in your hands as though with an excess of passion. — Holly Black

The robin in your tender heart
Hungers for the red berry
That titillates your tongue.
She carols as the snow falls -
And not with the chorus of the dawn
In radiant spring.
What might have been?
Your voice silenced,
The spirit of you
Destroyed,
I see glimpses of your fire
From the light that has vanished
From your eyes.
Your wings soar,
Only not to follow
Your heart.
Whatever the passion,
Let it burn.
It will save you. — Kyrian Lyndon

What you need to drive out an old passion, is a new passion, a greater passion. What you need is an over-mastering positive passion. [ ... ] Just as Rachel was Jacob's over-mastering passion, the passion of his life, Jesus is our "Rachel". To the degree, that you see Jesus on the cross, loosing absolutely everything for you, He will become a beauty to you, He will become so beautiful in your eyes that you'll be able to change these things that control
you now, they'll loose their power.
Do you know how to work on your heart like that? It's only by rejoicing in and resting in what Jesus Christ has done for you. Then you can replace your idols. And if you really want to change and want to pound the Gospel more deeply into your heart - Jesus Christ must become your over-mastering positive passion. — Timothy Keller

Well at least your awake," he sighs
"You had me worried."
"Get your hands away from me."
He waves sheathed fingers in front of my face.
"I'm all covered up. Don't worry."
"I hate you."
"So much passion." He laughs again. He looks so calm, so genuinely amused. He stares at me with eyes softer than I ever expected them to be.
I turn away. — Tahereh Mafi

210Suffering engenders passion; and while the prosperous blind themselves, or go to sleep, the hatred of the unfortunate classes kindles its torch at some sullen or ill-constituted mind, which is dreaming in a corner, and sets to work to examine society. The examination of hatred is a terrible thing.
Suffering begets rage, and while the prosperous turn a blind eye, or nod off which is always the same thing as shutting your eyes, the hate of the unprosperous masses has hits torch lit by some malcontent or warped mind dreaming away in a corner, somewhere, and it begins to examine society. Examination by hate is a terrible thing. — Victor Hugo

Enthusiasm is the sparkle in your eyes, the swing in your gait. — Henry Ford

To all those who care,
You can't forever.
Time steals the years,
And your reflection in the mirror.
But I can still see the story in your eyes,
And your timeless passion that's never died.
While your skin became tired,
Your heart became strong,
The present became the past,
And your memories like a song.
And though the moment at hand is all that we have,
You've taught me to live it like it is our last.
Since two words don't say 'thank you' the way they are meant to,
I'll try all my life to be something like you. — Crystal Woods

Let your faith in the Universe deepen, purify and strengthen most on your troublesome, dark days. If you close your eyes in prayer, surrendering every problem and desire, you will find a way out without fail. — Pooja Ruprell

I had a sense of your passion when we met, Merit. When you first stormed into my House with fire in your eyes." "That wasn't fire. That was sheer, unmitigated fury. — Chloe Neill

The enemy advances and you tremble. They've better numbers, you say. Better weapons. Better training. But I do not fear, and neither should you. For what they have in material, they lack in conviction and care. But not us. We have discipline. We have order. And most importantly, we have passion. We believe! So maintain vigilance. Conserve your ammo. Ensure a proper line of sight. And above all else, men, do not fire until you see the whites of their eyes. — Israel Putnam

Fifth letter : To lead your best life, do your best work

There is no insignificant work in the world. All labor is a chance to express personal talents, to create our art and to realize the genius we are built to be. We must work like picasso painted : with devotion, passion, energy and excellence. In this way, our productivity will not only become a source of inspiration to others, but it will have an impact - making a difference in the lives around us. One of the greatest secrets to a life beautifully lived is to do work that matters. And to ascend to such a state of mastery in it that people can't take ther eyes off you. — Robin S. Sharma

I hope you find true meaning, contentment, and passion in your life. I hope you navigate the difficult times and come out with greater strength and resolve. I hope you find whatever balance you seek with your eyes wide open. And I hope that you - yes, you - have the ambition to lean in to your career and run the world. Because the world needs you to change it. — Sheryl Sandberg

... so many ticks steadily around the clock. My heart beats ferociously, as if to say it will not digest this leaving. But you are gone. I could never look into your tormenting eyes again. You mock me with each word you choose ... . of the millions of words in the English tongue you could have chosen ... you select the one's that break me down. — Coco J. Ginger

If you want the light, like you say you do, then why do you keep it strangled in the
dark? If you preach love, like you strive to, why do you run away from practising?
My love,
the universe you fumble for doesn't exist, if you don't start from within. Before you,
all that I can be is eyes and heart. And all that I can do is to remain by your side,
for I can't love you any less than the more I do now. — Soar

Unfortunately they failed to appreciate the best part of you, preferring to lose themselves in the labyrinth of your grosser illusions. Didn't I show our well-behaved audience an angelized version of you? And you saw their reaction. They were bored and just sat in their seats like a bunch of stiffs. Of course, what can you expect? They wanted the death stuff, the pain stuff. All that flashy junk. They wanted cartwheels of agonized passion; somersaults into fires of doom; nosedives, if you will, into the frenzied pageant of vulnerable flesh. They wanted a tangible thrill.
("Drink To Me Only With Labyrinthine Eyes") — Thomas Ligotti