Richelle Mead Quotes

I think that sometimes love gets in the way of itself - you know, love interrupts itself. We want things so much that we sabotage them.

You are my angel and my damnation; in your presence I reach divine ecstasy and in your absence I descent to hell.

Sometimes I hate how much I love him But everyday I love him more

Hell is in the here and now. So is Heaven. Quit worrying about hell or dreaming about heaven, as they are both present inside us this very moment. Every time we fall in love, we ascend to heaven. Every time we hate, envy, or fight someone, we tumble straight into the fires of hell.

I loved you madly; in the distasteful work of the day, in the wakeful misery of the night, girded by sordid realities, or wandering through Paradises and Hells of visions into which I rushed, carrying your image in my arms, I loved you madly.

Oh, I have loved him too much to feel no hate for him.

The dimensions of my feelings are too violent.

The hardest situation to stay happy in, I think, is when you're trying to find love, and yourself at the same time. It just doesn't seem to fit well.

Love commingled with hate is more powerful than love. Or hate.

Love is jealous, and ingenious in self-torture in proportion as it is pure and intense.

If your heart is a volcano, how shall you expect flowers to bloom?

If she know how strongly he felt, she'd have run out the door. He wasn't used to the possessive, or the savage joy she brought to his heart. It ate at his control, so he turned his attention to the music. He understood music.

The greatest mania of all is passion: and I am a natural slave to passion: the balance between my brain and my soul and my body is as wild and delicate as the skin of a Ming vase.

My heart beat Beats me senselessly Why's everything Gotta be so intense with me.

I'm very sentimental and ambitious. I like to be relaxed and I like to live a peaceful existence, but that's very difficult considering I'm very neurotic. On the inside, I'm very chilled - but on the outside I'm a big mess of worry!

Compassionate love may be strong. It sobs, it burns, then it wipes away its tears – and it does nothing.

The pleasures of love are pains that become desirable, where sweetness and torment blend, and so love is voluntary insanity, infernal paradise, and celestial hell - in short, harmony of opposite yearnings, sorrowful laughter, soft diamond.

I love you as one loves certain dark things.

Emerson, I am trying to live, as you said we must, the examined life. But there are days I wish there was less in my head to examine, not to speak of the busy heart.

Veils of love which was only hate petrified by longing--that was me.

I was creative before I started meditating, but I had, looking back, a weakness. I wasn't self-assured. I had a little bit of melancholy. I had a lot of anger for my situations in life, and I would take this out on my first wife.

I am often mad, but I would hate to be nothing but mad: and I think I would lose what little value I may have as a writer if I were to refuse, as a matter of principle, to accept the warming rays of the sun, and to report them, whenever, and if ever, they

I have so little mastered the art of tranquil living that wherever I go I trail storm clouds of drama around me.

My life would be constrained by the horror and fierce rage that my appearance inspired, but I would know peace as well as fear, tenderness as well as brutality, and even love in a time of cruelty.

I hate you!” I screamed at Fang. Tucking my wings in, I aimed downward, diving toward the ground at more than two hundred miles an hour. “No you dooonnn’t!” Fang’s voice spiraled away into nothingness, far above me. Inside my head, almost drowned out by the roar of wind rushing by my ears, I heard the Voice make a tsking sound. You guys are crazy about each other, it said.