Quotes About Voyeur

If we had 3 million exhibitionists and only one voyeur, nobody could make any money.

I'm house obsessed, a house voyeur. Always have been.

I really knew when I started photographing I wanted it to be a way of knowing different cultures, not just in other countries but in this country, too, and I knew I wanted to be a voyeur.

I lived in a state of rage from 12 to 20. Until college, I was beyond an outsider. I was a voyeur of life.

As a kid, I used to dream about airplanes before I ever flew in one. I really knew, when I started photographing, I wanted it to be a way of knowing different cultures, not just in other countries but in this country, too, and I knew I wanted to enter other lives. I knew I wanted to be a voyeur.

I don't follow anybody. I just flip through whatever Instagram sends me. I like to keep my algorithm pure, so I only ever like pictures of art. It's a rabbit hole for me because I'm a total voyeur.

People inspire me. Everyone is such an individual and has unique stories. I'm a voyeur. I eavesdrop. Sometimes I ask questions. And sometimes people just want to tell me their stories.

I come by writing dialogue fairly naturally, I've got a chatty family; I'm a bit of a voyeur, and if I'm ever in a public place, I automatically find myself listening.

This intrigued me much more. Simple, plangent words. What had I said about the voyeur inside me?

If we had 3 million exhibitionists and only one voyeur, nobody could make any money.

I feel as though the camera is almost a kind of voyeur in Mr. Bean's life, and you just watch this bizarre man going about his life in the way that he wants to.

Readers are keepers of secrets: as an illicit page is turned, as a dangerous truth is inferred. The pulse quickens. Something explosive ticks between the lines. There is an intake of breath; the voyeur's silent flare of recognition. All the while, his or her face is impassive, unremarkable even, because like all subversives, readers lead careful double lives.

It...It...It's... The peeping tom!!

while all of this was going on, a man's face, a slight caricature of the artist as a young voyeur, loomed in a window over the bed and leered down at the two girls. The caption read, "What do they know about love uptown?" That's an old and not very funny joke, and if you don't already know it you're not going to read it here, because it's a bore. But it does fit the circumstances well enough.

But people often had a voyeur's excitement when they were close to a violent death, as if it conferred a degree of celebrity on them.

There is a difference between a voyeur and a tender witness. Maybe I think the audience is more of a tender witness than a voyeur, which has a shady undertone.

My poor scapegoat, I almost love you but would have cast, I know, the stones of silence. I am the artful voyeur of your brain's exposed and darkened combs, your muscles' webbing and all your numbered bones: I who have stood dumb when your betraying sisters, cauled in tar, wept by the railings, who would connive in civilized outrage yet understand the exact and tribal, intimate revenge. -"Punishment

All reality TV shows are a triumph of voyeurism. They choose contestants who are ill-suited and slightly freakish.

I have never been a very tactful person. I have never been discreet either. I am a voyeur and a gossip. I am also very opinionated. These are good qualities to have if your aim is to be a writer who is read. You could add to that the extremely useful habit of keeping a diary. I

Tragedy whores don't feel the foundation break apart beneath their feet—the reeling blast of emptiness, though to watch them you might think so. They're voyeurs. They feed like coffin flies on drama, embroiled in virtual grief and the illusion of heartbreak. They all have stories they want to tell, insist on telling, proclaiming their link to tragedy. Emotional rubberneckers. I

Come voyeur my poems Feel free, I feel free.

Authorship is exhibitionism, and readers a species of voyeur.

Though I felt like a voyeur to some kind of disaster, my eyes were riveted to the scene ...

And walking back from the river I remember the galling loneliness of my adolescence, from which I do not seem to have completely escaped. It is the sense of the voyeur, the lonely, lonely boy with no role in life but to peer in at the lighted windows of other people's contentment and vitality. It seems comical -- farcical -- that, having been treated so generously, I should be struck with this image of a kid in the rain walking along the road shoulders of East Milton.