Quotes About Obsessive

Los pensamientos obsesivos son la leña que alimenta el fuego de la ira, un fuego que sólo podrá extinguirse contemplando las cosas desde un punto de vista diferente

When you surf, as I then understood it, you live and breathe waves. You always know what the surf is doing. You cut school, lose jobs, lose girlfriends, if it's good.

I'm scared of him, said Piggy, and that's why I know him. If you're scared of someone you hate him but you can't stop thinking about him. You kid yourself he's all right really, an' then when you see him again, it's like asthma an' you can't breathe.

I am an obsessive garage cleaner - my wife and the neighbors make fun of me. I remember that my father was the same way, and now when I'm out there unearthing things in the garage, I realize I am becoming my dad!

Casual acquaintances, co-workers, or neighbors are less likely to witness the borderline's sudden shifts in mood, self-destructive behavior, paranoid distortions, and obsessive ruminations.

Anyone who did not master conspiratorial techniques was considered a kustar' – an amateur; amateurism was anathema to Ulyanov and he was obsessive in eradicating

I don't relax. I can't take vacations. I'm obsessive-compulsive, and I worry with every project that I'm going to fail. When it starts to go well, and I sense that something beautiful and important and meaningful is being created, it's a fantastic feeling, and I find it very hard to stop.

We work crazy hours in Silicon Valley; my wife says we're all kind of diseased in some way. We're totally obsessive compulsive - when we see an idea, we're like, 'let me in, it's so much fun.'

If you have high-functioning autism, you may well have a lot of autistic traits but if you've got a particular lifestyle where it's possibly an advantage to be leading a solitary lifestyle and be quite obsessive, you're clearly able to function and maybe even make valuable contributions in your work, so arguably you don't need a diagnosis.

You will soon find that I am a bit obsessive about my work. And that is a little sad, one often feels strangely restricted, not finding time to simmer, although one actually has many interests.

For me, collages manage to - it satisfies all of my madness, like I'm able to make these obsessive things, but then I'm also able to make these very strong statements. I don't know what they mean to other people, but in my mind, they have a very strong particular resonance; there's sort of a power.

Yes I am definitely an 'Orange is the New Black' fan... Not an obsessive, but a fan none the less.

Every moment in life can be interpreted as a risk, depending on our outlook - and level of obsessive- compulsive disorder! I do my best to depend on my gut. If you sit with a decision long enough, your gut/soul will tell you what path to take.

I don't know - sometimes I catch myself being dark, and it's annoying. I think, 'Get over it.' I bore myself. But sometimes, like everybody, I'm sure I am obsessive.

And also because there's a dragon there who I'm definitely not thinking about and certainly do not think about all the time.

Compulsively tidy people, one is told, are always wiping the slate clean, trying to give themselves what life denies all of us, a fresh start.

Collectors become obsessive and then addicted. You become addicted to art and you can't live without it.

Officially, it is no more possible to be a little bit OCD than it is to be a little bit pregnant or a little bit dead.

Hal Incandenza has an almost obsessive dislike for deLint, whom he tells Mario he sometimes cannot quite believe is even real, and tries to get to the side of, to see whether deLint has a true z coordinate or is just a cutout or projection.

And if only it would stop, shut itself up for good- this off-key 'if only' that goes on singing, like some deranged child, repeating.

And this is what ye have shipped for, men! to chase that white whale on both sides of land, and over all sides of earth, till he spouts black blood and rolls fin out.

As Danton sees it, the most bizarre aspect of Camille's character is his desire to scribble over every blank surface; he sees a guileless piece of paper, virgin and harmless, and persecutes it till it is black with words, and then besmirches its sister, and so on, through the quire.

Only reading, she knew, could distract her from her obsessive thoughts and restore her sense of peace.

A mortal had woven it, a man who, having caught sight of the Seelie queen, had spent the remainder of his short life weaving depictions of her. He had died of starvation, raw, red fingers staining the final tapestry.