Passion (n.) is what brings reflection to an end; without it one dawdles on the road chatting with every passer-by, and never sees the promised land but dies in the wilderness.
Passion (n.) has a language which, if one cannot speak it fluently, one cannot speak at all — it does not exist for one; Shakespeare's Imogen goes on where any other poet would break off.
Passion (n.) that lasts is like strong ale, not thin beer: both foam as strongly, but the thin beer's foam is over in a moment — so passion needs sleep, and after two o'clock every thought of her is a fraud against her.
Passion (n.) that will put up with anything shows only that it lacks freedom of thought to entertain another point of view — and when the inciting opposition is gone, what then?
Passion (n.) excites, earthly wisdom cools; but neither the heat nor the coolness nor their blend is the pure air of the eternal.
Passion (n.) knows only one way to fight, either-or: either I am and am the highest, or I am nothing at all.
Passion (n.) always excludes the third party; to love without passion is impossible, and the difference between earthly and Christian love is the one eternal difference within passion.
Passion (n.) on the opera stage is concrete in itself, not in the personality: the rest of the personality is swallowed up in it — like planets lit only on the side turned toward the sun.
Passion (n.) never blinds the aesthete; it makes him all the more clear-sighted and calculating.
Passion (n.) is best observed by inventing it in yourself at preternatural size before the person — who then feels the relief of a madman whose fixation has finally been poetically grasped.
Passion (n.) is what unifies all human life; faith is a passion — so it is a miracle from which no one is excluded.
Passion (n.) draws the only reliable conclusions — the only convincing ones.
Passion (n.) that is infinite has long ago saved one's soul out of such nonsense; whoever lacks it is not the ideal.
Passion (n.) is the properly human factor, in which one generation perfectly understands another — no generation has learned from another to love.
Passion (n.) has an ever-new ingenuity for turning what has been explained and understood into a fresh disappointment in which it deceives itself.
Passion (n.) you force someone to renounce slips away by a hidden path to meet him again, and now he loves the unhappy passion itself.