Quotes About Possession

What kind of a maniac needed over five thousand plates?

Tell him I took the cat

Alone, Roarke took the gray fabric button from his pocket, the one he'd found on the floor of his limo. The one that had fallen from the jacket of that drab gray suit she'd worn the first time he'd seen her. Studying it, knowing he had no intention of giving it back to her, he felt like a fool.

Roarke sipped, smiled. I believe Webster and I have a reasonable understanding. I can't fault him for being attracted to my wife, as I'm very attracted to her myself. And he knows that if he puts his hands on what's mine again, I'll break every bone in his body into small, jagged pieces. It works well for us.

For the price of the download or hard copy, anyone can own the book and read it countless times.

we can pretend that the book in question is not Mr. West's but mine, made mine by the madness of my reading.

The joys of possession I have never felt very acutely. I find it hard to think of myself as the owner of anything. But I do tend to slip into the role of guardian and protector of the unloved and unlovable, of what other people disdain or spurn: bad-tempered old dogs, ugly pieces of furniture that have stubbornly stayed alive, cars on the edge of breakdown. It is a role I resist; but every now and then the mute appeal of the unwanted overwhelms my defences.

hasta qué punto es real nuestra posesión? Las flores se convierten en polvo, Hendrik desengancha y se va, la tierra nada sabe de cercas, las piedras seguirán en su sitio cuando yo no sea más que polvo, la propia comida que devoro solamente pasa a través de mí.

You don't know this yet. But you are Mine - Wrath

You don't go after what's mine. Now be a good boy and gut yourself. -Xhex, Lover Mine.

We also mark what's ours. And as I'm not going to see you for twelve hours, I think I'll leave a little more all over you.

An overwhelming, possessive instinct flashed through him. With dread, he realized he wanted to mark her. Mark her as his. He wanted that special scent all over her so no other male would come near her. So that they would know whom she belonged to. So that they would fear the repercussions of wanting to possess her for themselves. Except

He can't take her away!" he screamed at no one and everybody. "We just got her! He can't take her—he's a fucking stranger—" "Rhage," Mary got directly in front of him, jumping up to catch his eye. "Rhage, we have to—" Latching onto her wide, sad stare, he moaned, "She's ours…she's ours…this stranger can't take her away—she's ours….

You don't know this yet," he said grimly. "But you are mine.

Dumb-ass human, looking at his female like that? The bastard was lucky John was so sexed up. Otherwise he'd have taken the time to break a leg or an arm just to make a point.

You know, you were never the possessive type before." "That's because I never had something I wanted to keep.

Midnight. You are mine, female." Her

Add now you're mine. Do you understand that? You don't give this pussy to anyone else while we're playing. You're mine.

You're mine, Savannah.

Everything belongs to me because I am poor.

It's that evil twin part of me that always comes out at the absolute wrong political moment, like a demon possessing my soul; it exhibits itself as an arrogance or disdain or obnoxiousness or meanness or anger or pettiness - all traits that are lethal in politics.

There's this whole new grammar Twitter skill set that I do not possess. I'm not a very good person to follow. I never tweet, and when I do, it's about some sort of sporting event that I'm watching.

When you have two-thirds of possession in any match you have got to turn that pressure into points.

If you can tell me what gun, type of gun, I can possess, then I didn't really get that right to keep and bear arms from God. It was not bequeathed to me; it was not unalienable, right?