I love you as one loves certain dark things.
For words of rapture groping, they"Never such love," swore "ever before was!"
Love is a smoke rais'd with the fume of sighs; being purg'd, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes; being vex'd, a sea nourish'd with lovers' tears; what is it else? A madness most discreet, a choking gall, and a preserving sweet.
Passion colors all that it touches in its own hues.
I'm dominated by Love, By my passion of love for Love
Fervor is a fire that makes things boil and grow hot, just as fire causes water to boil. It is, properly speaking, charity on fire, and that is what you should have because a Daughter without Charity is like a body without a soul.
Affection faints not like a pale-faced coward, But then woos best when most his choice is froward.
Talk not of love: thou never knew'st its force.
What is commonly called love, namely the desire of satisfying a voracious appetite with a certain quantity of delicate white human flesh.
In truth we know by experience that song has great force and vigour to move and inflame the hearts of men to invoke and praise God with a more vehement and ardent zeal.
Love, why have you sought the horde of spearsmen, why the tent Achilles pitched beside the river-ford?
The downright fanatic is nearer to the heart of things than the cool and slippery disputant.
I still am a geek, I don't think there's anything wrong with it. I see no shame in having an unhealthy obsession with something.
Love, that exempts no one beloved from loving, seized me with pleasure of this man so strongly, that, as thou seest, it doth not yet desert me.
Patriotism. Combustible rubbish ready to the torch of any one ambitious to illuminate his name.
We fear extremes and shy away from too much ardor in religion as if it were possible to have too much love or too much faith or too much holiness.
To be loved to madness--such was her great desire. Love was to her the one cordial which could drive away the eating loneliness of her days. And she seemed to long for the abstraction called passionate love more than for any particular lover.
About the Saint's amorous adventures, by the way, I can't speak so brazenly.
You cannot call it love, for at your age the heyday in the blood is tame
You have never loved me as I love you--never--never! Yours is not a passionate heart--your heart does not burn in a flame! You are, upon the whole, a sort of fay, or sprite-- not a woman!
In fact the whole passion ordinarily termed love (and heaven help me if I can think of any other term to apply to it) is of such exceeding triviality that I see nothing that I think comparable with it.
There is no rapture in the love which is prompted by esteem; such affection is lasting, not passionate.
In my experience, desire is desire, love is love.
It would seem that zeal is not an effect of love. For zeal is a beginning of contention.
To love God passionately is to love truth passionately.
