Kenneth Oppel Quotes

My passions, concentrated on a single point, resemble the rays of a sun assembled by a magnifying glass: they immediately set fire to whatever object they find in their way.

True confessions are written with tears only. But my tears would drown the world, as my inner fire would reduce it to ashes.

Could swell the soul to rage, or kindle soft desire.

There are moments when our passions speak and decide for us ... like a fire kindled within our being to which everything else in us is mere fuel.

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

What I fear and desire most in this world is passion. I fear it because it promises to be spontaneous, out of my control, unnamed, beyond my reasonable self. I desire it because passion has color, like the landscape before me. It is not pale. It is not neutral. It reveals the backside of the heart.

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

There's such a fierce intense fire burning inside of me, so much that it just wants to explode.

It is nevertheless a game of considerable passion, either of the explosive type, or that which burns inwardly and sears the soul.

To be a fighter, you have to be passionate. I have so much passion, it's hard to hold it all in. That passion escapes as tears from my eyes, sweat from my pores, blood from my veins.

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

Passion. It lies in all of us. Sleeping... waiting... and though unwanted, unbidden, it will stir... open its jaws and howl. It speaks to us... guides us. Passion rules us all. And we obey. What other choice do we have? Passion is the source of our finest moments. The joy of love... the clarity of hatred... the ecstasy of grief. It hurts sometimes more than we can bear. If we could live without passion, maybe we'd know some kind of peace. But we would be hollow. Empty rooms, shuttered and dank. Without passion, we'd be truly dead.

Said I loved you but I lied, cause this is more than love I feel inside.

I have a need to be all on fire, for I have mountains of ice about me to melt.

A great passion has no partner.

Passion is what makes life interesting, what ignites our soul, drives our curiosity, fuels our love and carries our friendship, stimulates our intellect, and pushes our limit.... A passion for life is contagious and uplifting. Passion cuts both ways.... Those that make you feel on top of the world are equally able to turnit upside down.

I close my eyes and it's so real and all at once I know just what I feel - And baby it's the kind of rush that terrifies.

The more acute the experience, the less articulate its expression.

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

What is passion? Passion is surely the becoming of a person.

Oh, my passion! That is what finally carried me through. Let passion burn all the way, heating up every layer of the psyche.

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.

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 is passion? It is surely the becoming of a person. Are we not, for most of our lives, marking time? Most of our being is at rest, unlived. In passion, the body and the spirit seek expression outside of self. Passion is all that is other from self. Sex is only interesting when it releases passion. The more extreme and the more expressed that passion is, the more unbearable does life seem without it. It reminds us that if passion dies or is denied, we are partly dead and that soon, come what may, we will be wholly so.

There is no passion, more spectral or fantastical than hate, not even its opposite, love, so peoples air, with phantoms, as this madness of the heart.