None of these things that randomly affect our minds should be called passions. The mind doesn't create these feelings — it just allows them to happen to it. A passion isn't about being affected by what we see around us. It's about giving in to our feelings and following these random impulses. Some people think that turning pale, bursting into tears, feeling lustful, sighing deeply, or having sudden flashes in the eyes are signs of passion that reveal what's going on in our minds. They're wrong. They don't understand that these are just physical impulses from the body. That's why the bravest man often turns pale while putting on his armor. When the battle signal sounds, even the boldest soldier's knees shake for a moment. A great general's heart jumps into his throat just before the armies clash. Even the most eloquent speaker's hands and feet grow stiff and cold as he prepares to begin his speech.
None of these things which casually influence the mind deserve to be called passions: the mind, if I may so express it, rather suffers passions to act upon itself than forms them. A passion, therefore, consists not in being affected by the sights which are presented to us, but in giving way to our feelings and following up these chance promptings: for whoever imagines that paleness, bursting into tears, lustful feelings, deep sighs, sudden flashes of the eyes, and so forth, are signs of passion and betray the state of the mind, is mistaken, and does not understand that these are merely impulses of the body. Consequently, the bravest of men often turns pale while he is putting on his armour; when the signal for battle is given, the knees of the boldest soldier shake for a moment; the heart even of a great general leaps into his mouth just before the lines clash together, and the hands and feet even of the most eloquent orator grow stiff and cold while he is preparing to begin his speech.