H. Rider Haggard Quotes

Love is a clash of lightnings

Life is beautiful, as long as it consumes you. When it is rushing through you, destroying you, life is gorgeous, glorious. It's when you burn a slow fire and save fuel, that life's not worth having.

Love is every bit as violent and dangerous as murder.

Maybe love, too, is beautiful because it has a wildness that cannot be tamed. I don't know. All I know is that passion can take you up like a house of cards in a tornado, leaving destruction in its wake. Or it can let you alone because you've built a stone wall against it, set out the armed guards to keep it from touching you. The real trick is not to let it in, but to hold on. To understand that the heart is as wide and vast as the universe, but that we come to know it best from here, this place is gravity and stability, where out feet can still touch ground.

Passion is a rather frightening thing because if you have passion you don't know where it will take you.

A woman isn't all that different from a bonfire. A fire's a beautiful thing, right? Something you can't take your eyes off, when it's burning. If you can keep it contained, it'll throw light and heat for you. It's only when it gets out of control that you have to go on the offensive.

What a strange world it is where you can have as much sex as you like but love is taboo. I'm talking about the real thing, the grand passion, which may not allow affection or convenience or happiness. The truth is that love smashes into your life like an ice floe, and even if your heart is built like the Titanic you go down. That's the size of it, the immensity of it. It's not proper, it's not clean, it's not containable.

Murder is born of love, and love attains the greatest intensity in murder.

If I feel strongly about anything, I get overwhelmed with emotion.

I am little concerned with beauty or perfection. I don't care for the great centuries. All I care about is life, struggle, intensity.

true love is felonious… You take someone’s breath away… You rob them of the ability to utter a single word… You steal a heart.

Passion alone could destroy passion. All the thinking in the world could not make so much as a dent in its surface.

With subtle and finely-wrought temperaments it is always so. Their strong passions must either bruise or bend. They either slay the man, or themselves die. Shallow sorrows and shallow loves live on. The loves and the sorrows that are great are destroyed by their own plenitude.

For words of rapture groping, they"Never such love," swore "ever before was!"

But how did you come burning down like a wild needle, knowing just where my heart was?

Martha: Oh, I like your anger. I think that's what I like about you most. Your anger.

A real flame of love is a subtle thing. It burns as a will-o'-the-wisp, dancing onward to fairy lands of delight. It roars as a furnace. Too often jealousy is the quality upon which it feeds.

beautiful insane in the rain

There is always some madness in love.

Love is a wave building to a crescendo. Ride if you will, ride it with me.

Love does not appear with any warning signs. You fall into it as if pushed from a high diving board.

Vehemence without feeling is but rant.

Desire doubled is love and love doubled is madness.

There's beauty in anger, and anger for me is a passion.