Quotes About Possession

Apple actively encourages the population to lose their possessions. Music? Store it on the Cloud. Books? Store them on the Cloud. Film, magazines, newspapers, TV are all safely stored in the ether and not underfoot or stuffed in a closet. It's a modernist monastery where the religion is Apple itself.

When we discuss a novel it is only partially to hear another person's 'view', it is much more to find out what we ourselves think in order to possess the text more completely. Such a possession is then a composite one, it is the book itself and the articulated reaction to it. So vivid can be the latter that it is not uncommon to find that the pleasure survives the cause; some novels seem more enjoyable to talk about than to read.

Possession is eleven points in the law.

Make what you wish of Him for He is as much yours as He is mine.

I created you. Hence I have the right to do what I will with you. You have done me no harm, I admit. I make you suffer for my own pleasure.

It was the tragedy of women to be lusted after and stolen in the night.

The long form of the possessive pronoun replaces the noun. completely.

Will other women possess you?" she asked breathlessly. He turned his cheek and rested it against hers as he started moving slowly inside her. "I have never been possessed . . . until now," he said in a deep voice. "You have entered my blood, and nothing I can do will wipe your memory away.

It's a book. It's mine. And it's done.

Holding something doesn't make it yours. You realize at some point you're just keeping it back for yourself, because it's pulling away with equal force. You've got to cut the string from your finger and leave that wispy thread, like a baby spider on the breeze.

Luke caught Mina's chin in his left hand and turned her face toward him. 'Guess what, sweetheart?' 'What?' He grinned. 'I'm keeping you.

I'm Jace." He let her see his own fangs. "And you're mine." A claim made before all the wolves in the room. From now on, any wolf who touched her would face him—and death. She swallowed and tilted her head back to better meet his stare. "Hello, husband." The wolf within growled…Mine.

He'd found "Jane" first. Finders fuckin keepers.

Claire was his, and that was only fitting because the woman truly owned him, body and soul.

Because this wasn't the way that Elijah really kissed. He didn't kiss like a gentleman. He kissed like a man possessed. A man desperate to have the woman he wanted.

She was a bit thinner, and there was a new delicacy to her that hadn't been there before. Probably because of the recent attack she'd suffered. He'd heard that Rachel had been in the hospital. A knife attack. Some crazed fool had attacked Rachel in her own apartment. He'd been furious at the news. No one else was supposed to kill Rachel. She was his.

It was curious that when we had been able to buy new clothes when we wanted we had never really appreciated them nor enjoyed them. You have to be in the position of needing things very badly indeed before you can appreciate possessing them.

The odd thing was that there was scarcely a man in the place who could not produce some sort of firearm. They had no right to possess firearms without a permit, but Mr. MacDonald shut his eyes to this well-known fact and welcomed the motley collection with enthusiasm.

The first piece of 'long' fiction I wrote was a novella parody of Stephen King's 'Christine.' I was in high school, and my version was about a kid with a possessed locker instead of a possessed car. It was also my first attempt at humour, which fell completely flat because no one who read it realized it was a parody!

Children learn many principles of natural law at a very early age. For example: they learn that when one child has picked up an apple or a flower, it is his, and that his associates must not take it from him against his will.

Possession and exorcism is something that's in every religion and every culture. It's a real primal fear: Is the body a vessel for our spirits? What happens if something else takes over it? Where does the spirit go?

She's mine, he had said... and her heart had throbbed in answer... recognizing it as truth.

He said only two words. But they explained everything he was doing, and everything he intended to do. "You're mine.

Turn over, Helen." An approving sound, very nearly a purr, left his throat as she obeyed. He looked down at her with eyes as bright as the reflection of stars in a midnight ocean. So brutally handsome, like one of the volatile gods of mythology, wreaking havoc on hapless mortal maidens at a whim. And he was hers.