May Sarton Quotes

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 violence of love is as much to be dreaded as that of hate.

The dimensions of my feelings are too violent.

Passion can quickly slip to jealousy, or even hatred.

Rage-the biggest, truest rage of her adult life-had invaded her like a fever, but it wasn't like any fever she had known previously. It circulated like weird serum, cold on the right side of her body, then hot on the left, where her heart was. It seemed to come nowhere near her head, which remained clear.

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.

I just want some time, Mikhail, to think things through. It’s frightening, the way I am about you. I think about you every minute; I want to touch you, just to know I can, to feel you beneath my fingers. It’s as if you crawled into my head and my heart, even my body, and I can’t get you out.

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

There’s something insupportable about being pissed with the one person on this planet that sends your adrenaline flowing to remind you that you’re alive. It’s almost like we’re mad because we’ve been shocked out of our usual comatose state of being by feeling something for someone, for ourselves, for just a moment.

I don't think of marriage as the drudge work that a lot of sitcoms and movies might have shown it to be, I think it's more deadly murderous rage, unadulterated passion, soul-crushing purgatorial dread... It's more interesting.

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

Believe it or not--it takes a lot of love to hate you like this.

For love, thou know'st, is full of jealousy

You've got to be hurt and upset; otherwise you can't think of the really good, penetrating, X-rayish phrases.

Jealousy can open the blood, it can make black roses.

When we were together, she turned me completely inside out.

I just tried to remember how far you can love and how many states you can experience when you're in love, especially the first love when you think you're going to die.

I feel something for you, some dangerous thing, some volatile thing.

A strange, terrific force unlike anything I've ever experienced is sprouting in my heart, taking root there, growing. Shut up behind my rib cage, my warm heart expands and contracts independent of my will--over and over.

The only love that feels like love is the doomed kind. (Fun fact.)

Olympia thinks often about desire - desire that stops the breath, that causes a preoccupied pause in the midst of uttering a sentence - and how it may upend a life and threaten to dissolve the soul.

I’ve been feeling something else. Like I’m about to be sucked into something powerful and painful.

We live in wonder, blaze in a cycle of passion and apprehension.

love being such, or such, the normal corners of your heart will never guess how much my wonderful jealousy is dark

The feelings of our heart, the agitation of our passions, the vehemence of our affections, dissipate all its conclusions, and reduce the profound philosopher to a mere plebeian