Supquotes

×
☰ MENU

passion

“Sensuality is less about sex and more about sharing desires, fantasies and dreams of ecstasy.”

— Lebo Grand, Share via Whatsapp

“The fresh morning air seemed to drive away all his sombre passions. He thought only of Sibyl. A faint echo of his love came back to him. He repeated her name over and over again. The birds that were singing in the dew-drenched garden seemed to be telling the flowers about her.”

— Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray, Share via Whatsapp

“All is not only interlinked; all is self and the purpose of self is love. Hence the reason for diversity. To love and be loved.”

— Wald Wassermann, Share via Whatsapp

“It is the quiet of the night that I adore the most. It makes me wander in paths and times that seem so distinct, so distant in the light of a bright chirpy day. Oh, I love to talk and I love to hear, form connections, live the passion of Life throbbing with the fervour of colours and stories. But the dark, the stillness of the night makes me see the rivulets of light that walk in my soul. As if they talk to me, like an unsung melody, a poem scattered in bits and pieces, holding my breath to a dawn. They walk through my soul and ask me to keep my senses open as I inhale the peace of night where only the murmur of the stars dance in a serenade of a lover s dream, as if to paint a shadow of colours woven in the misty echo of an infinite lullaby. I love the night air so cold yet so crisp clutching us in a passionate embrace where we give way to all that a heart desires, some make poems some heal wounds and some sleep in the arms of love, while every soul wears its real and most vulnerable yet most whole self. And there as I watch my soul bathed in the halo of stillness, I see how the silence of the night gives in to the chirping of the birds, while the stars walk into their cocoon to let the Sun smile through the breathing dawn. Only a moment, when the night holds us in a mirror for a second or for a fraction of a second and when the morn seeps in to let Life jump in with a thousand voices. Only a moment. And yet that moment is so pure so beautiful to let us soak and even hold on to that stillness of night as much as we can through our heart, and every bit of our soul. I sit in awe, not only to behold the glory of the Morn but also to absorb the depth of the Night, for it is the quiet of the night that I adore the most.”

— Debatrayee Banerjee, Share via Whatsapp

“Dreaming is my habit and making it a reality is my passion.”

— Santosh Kumar, Share via Whatsapp

“This continent is littered coast to coast with people who were compelled to study business administration when they should have been painting murals or practicing the fiddle or digging a truck garden, and finally got their chance when it was twenty years too late to lead them anywhere.”

— John Brunner, The Shockwave Rider, Share via Whatsapp

“Or are you suggesting you d rather exchange passionate letters by candlelight? Should I tell you that when we re apart, your body comes back to me in dreams? That when I sleep, I see you, the dip of your waist, the freckle above your hip, and when I wake up in the morning, it feels like I ve just been with you, the phantom touch of your hand on the back of my neck fresh and not imagined? That I can feel your skin against mine, and it makes every bone in my body ache? That, for a few moments, I can hold my breath and be back there with you, in a dream, in a thousand rooms, nowhere at all? I think perhaps Hamilton said it better in a letter to Eliza: You engross my thoughts too intirely to allow me to think of any thing else- you not only employ my mind all day; but you intrude upon my sleep. I meet you in every dream- and when I wake I cannot close my eyes again for ruminating on your sweetness. We can t change the world, and a lot of time we can t even change people. No more than one bit at a time. So we do what we can to help whenever we get the chance, sweetheart. We save those we can. We do our best. Then we try to find a way to convince ourselves that that will just have to...be enough. So we can live with our failures without drowning.”

— Casey McQuiston, Red, White & Royal Blue, Share via Whatsapp

“Or are you suggesting you d rather exchange passionate letters by candlelight? Should I tell you that when we re apart, your body comes back to me in dreams? That when I sleep, I see you, the dip of your waist, the freckle above your hip, and when I wake up in the morning, it feels like I ve just been with you, the phantom touch of your hand on the back of my neck fresh and not imagined? That I can feel your skin against mine, and it makes every bone in my body ache? That, for a few moments, I can hold my breath and be back there with you, in a dream, in a thousand rooms, nowhere at all? I think perhaps Hamilton said it better in a letter to Eliza: You engross my thoughts too intirely to allow me to think of any thing else- you not only employ my mind all day; but you intrude upon my sleep. I meet you in every dream- and when I wake I cannot close my eyes again for ruminating on your sweetness.”

— Casey McQuiston, Red, White & Royal Blue, Share via Whatsapp

“Now I wanted only one thing, in this room with the smell of Helen s perfume and clothes and the bed and the twilight: to possess her with everything that was in me, and if there was one thing that tormented me and pierced the flat dull sense of loss, it was the realization that nature wouldn t let me possess her even more fully and deeply. If only I could spread myself over her like a blanket, if only I could have had a thousand hands and mouths, if only I could have held her in a perfect concave mold, skin to skin without intervening space—but even then there would be a last regret, for still it would be only skin to skin instead of blood in blood: we could be together, but never completely united.”

— Erich Maria Remarque, The Night in Lisbon, Share via Whatsapp

“But he is wise who does not scorn any character, but, fixing a piercing eye on him, searches out his primary causes. Everything transforms quickly in man; before you can turn around, a horrible worm has grown inside him, despotically drawing all life s juices to itself. And it has happened more than once that some passion, not a broad but a paltry little passion for some petty thing, has spread through one born for better deeds, making him forsake great and sacred duties and see the great and sacred in paltry baubles. Numberless as the sands of the sea are human passions, and no one resembles another, and all of them, base or beautiful, are at first obedient to man and only later become his dread rulers. Blessed is he who has chosen the most beautiful passion; his boundless bliss grows tenfold with every hour and minute, and he goes deeper and deeper into the infinite paradise of his soul. But there are passions that it is not for man to choose. They are born with him at the moment of his birth into this world, and he is not granted the power to refuse them. They are guided by a higher destiny, and they have in them something eternally calling, never ceasing throughout one s life. They are ordained to accomplish a great earthly pursuit: as a dark image, or as a bright apparition sweeping by, gladdening the world—it makes no difference, both are equally called forth for the good unknown to man.”

— Nikolai Gogol, Dead Souls, Share via Whatsapp

“There is no bigger punishment than not having enough time to do what makes your heart sing.”

— Sarvesh Jain, Share via Whatsapp

“A bromeliad extinct for so long that no one bothered to look for it anymore. A plant so rare even its name was gone. It was Sonali s prize. The passion plant with no name. There was no mistaking the mysterious bromeliad, its inward-spiraling leaves forming a small black hole in the center. A mandala, Sonali had said, created by the plant world, about the mind of human beings. I had in my sights the very plant Sonali and Armand had spent so many years searching for. Being an air plant, it did not require any soil to live- it grew straight out of a log. It was not parasitic. It had attached itself for stability only.”

— Margot Berwin, Hothouse Flower and the Nine Plants of Desire, Share via Whatsapp

“Do what makes your heart happy. Life is short to be afraid of what might never happen”

— Sarvesh Jain, Share via Whatsapp

“We protect the hardest what we love the most. So if you can let go of something, it means it wasn’t your soul purpose.”

— Sarvesh Jain, Share via Whatsapp

“They don’t just have to face rejection, they’ve to live with that all their life. Be careful how you turn down their hearts.”

— Sarvesh Jain, Share via Whatsapp

“Never do something big just because you’ve to, do something because you want to. Take your life changing decision with conscience.”

— Sarvesh Jain, Share via Whatsapp

“You can buy a sport bike at the age of 54. You re as young as you keep yourself. So eat healthy, work passionate, and stay fit.”

— Sarvesh Jain, Share via Whatsapp