Quotes About Fascination

I am intrigued by unusual people. I'm quite unusual myself. Like calls to like, as they say.

I see a boy. Ah, he is beautiful, and he has the way of wyrd within him.

When people stopped to stare at him, his flesh shrank, because he thought they found him objectionable. He did not realise how striking he was, how the mark of his people set him apart, surrounded him with an ambience of otherworldiness, something bewitching. This lack of self-awareness contributed greatly to his allure.

Lahash flicked her a glance like a serpent's tongue, black and quick and wet in an otherwise dry countenance.

It was likely that many people had been affected by them in a similar way; dreaming of celebrities, dreaming of touching them and possessing their bodies for a night. I was probably no different than their other admirers.

She saw his face properly for the first time. It wasn't cruel, but it wasn't kind either. It was dark and terrible and beautiful.

Sofia, Lily decided, was a person-eater. Not just a man-eater, although she'd undoubtedly gnawed a few masculine bones in her time. She was also a liar. Lily was intrigued by her, but also wary and a little frightened.

Louis did not feel completely at ease with the man, there was something very odd and almost sinister about him. But at the same time, Othman possessed a quality which made people want to spend time in his company. Perhaps it was simply charisma.

This man could not be human, but at that point, Louis did not care.

The Sink looked utterly enchanted, as if everyone was under the spell of a magical sleep.

Strange, pulsing symbols appeared before his eyes, oozed past him. He neither ate nor drank nor slep, but still his strength did not diminish. It was almost as if something called to him, drawing him onward. The otherworld, perhaps.

Ays, I do believe you might have terranaut blood in your veins after all! You beguile me into revealing too much and no ordinary godling could do that!

He opened his eyes, and the sight of the crystal city, in all its splendour, came at his sensitive pupils like a hail of spears.

She smiled at me in a distinctly secretive way. Sacramantas were like that; secretive, and it seemed the secrets were of the most delicious kind.

The richness and variety of the human race enchanted him; he was not repelled by weaknesses or failings and was tolerant of most behaviours, even the least endearing. Difficult people interested him far more than those whose conversations and ideas inspired the spirit, or whose physical beauty constricted breath in the throat. He sought out the unusual, observing behaviour with cool yet committed interest. He loved them all.

Othman came to fill the dark space in the doorway, his eyes lit by blue sparks that seemed to shine from somewhere deep within him, perhaps through centuries of time.

When he'd first looked at the painting, Othman had felt a charge of shock course through his flesh. The woman was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen, and some part of him knew her. Still, he was wary of approaching her. The long, knowing eyes seemed to trace his passage around the room.

I could not let such a tasty morsel pass through my domain without knowing him this way.

The serpent'll have you. He likes tender flesh. I like to watch.

Once you have been touched by them, it becomes an addiction.

There was something repellant about the face before her, yet also seductive.

Creatures that feed upon blood are abhorred and feared by the majority of humans.

The man uses his imagination to follow an object of fascination. He is tantalised by the chase, but also tantalises the prey. He does not want to move from his lonely home, because the reality of life might not match up to his imagination.

Your love of mystery is really quite tiresome, you know!