Quotes About Obsession

I am being followed, I realized, with a blend of certitude and astonishment, like a soldier discovering that gangrene has taken hold of his leg.

I remember that a couple, both tall and thin, turned away from a painting and peered over as if I might be an ex-lover or a living (and unfinished) painting that had just got news of the painter's death. I know I walked out without looking back and that I walked for a long time until I realized I wasn't crying, but that it was raining and I was soaked. That night I didn't sleep at all.

Una semana sin ver a Maciste se me antojaba una eternidad. Pero cuando intentaba imaginar una vida completa junto a él no veía nada: una imagen en blanco, la pared de un cuarto deshabitado, amnesia, lobotomía, mi cuerpo partido, hecho pedazos.

La pasión es geometría. Rombos, cilindros, ángulos latidores. La pasión es geometría que cae al abismo, observada desde el fondo del abismo.

First, the need to be near Liz Norton struck some time before he got back to his apartment in Madrid. By the time he was on the plane he'd realized that she was the perfect woman, the one he'd always hoped to find, and he began to suffer.

La casa de Maciste era una promesa y una enfermedad y yo daba vueltas por la promesa y la enfermedad.

una cifra, pensó cuando volvió a quedarse solo, siempre es aproximativa, no existe la cifra correcta, sólo los nazis creían en la cifra correcta y los profesores de matemática elemental, sólo los sectarios, los locos de las pirámides, los recaudadores de impuestos (Dios acabe con ellos), los numerólogos que leían el destino por cuatro perras creían

book on Archimboldi, a book that might be the grand Archimboldian opus, the pilot fish that would swim for a long time beside the great black shark of the German's oeuvre, or

To be a book-collector is to combine the worst characteristics of a dope fiend with those of a miser.

Matt is a tortured soul,' Amanda insisted. 'He's Heathcliff and you're Cathy. He's Rochester and you're Jane Eyre. He's-' 'Darcy and I'm Elizabeth. I get it. And you're wrong.

You need a hot bath, Fool. Is privacy still your obsession?" He made a small sound that might have been a laugh. "Torture strips one of all dignity. Pain can make one shriek, or beg, or soil yourself. There is no privacy where your enemies own you and have no compunction, no human compunction at all about what they will do to you. So, among my friends, yes. Privacy is still an obsession. And a gift from them. A restoration in small part of what dignity I once had.

Battered at my dreams like a moth trying to destroy itself in a lantern's flame.

For men love what they cannot have, and hate what they cannot control.

A iubi prea mult înseamn?, în realitate, s? fii obsedat? de un b?rbat ÅŸi s? numeÅŸti asta dragoste, s? laÅŸi aceast? obsesie s?-Å£i controleze sentimentele ÅŸi comportamentul, s?-Å£i dai seama c? are o influen?? negativ? asupra s?n?t??ii ÅŸi liniÅŸtii tale ÅŸi totuÅŸi s? nu te poÅ£i elibera de sub puterea ei. Inseamn? s? cânt?reÅŸti iubirea în funcÅ£ie de dimensiunile suferinÅ£ei.

Maybe we've all been banished to lonely corners by our obsession with private property.

Maybe we've all been banished to lonely corners by our obsession with private property. We've accepted banishment even from ourselves when we spend our beautiful, utterly singular lives on making more money, to buy more things that feed but never satisfy. It is the Windigo way that tricks us into believing that belongings will fill our hunger, when it is belonging that we crave.

with grades, with scores. I always had to be the best in my class. It felt like the only way I could measure my success, my self-worth. If you knew the time I put into preparing for the MCAT you wouldn't believe it—it verged on OCD. It's that insane.

Marjolie closes her eyes. Takes a big shuddery breath. "Turns out, DommyJ's a collector. V cards. Like, is even in a competition with his

That guilt is a jealous lover.

Im sticking to You like Glue! ~ Slade

She did love him, in that way that teenage girls love, like a lemming. Which is not love, of course.

It was depraved, wasn't it? Like those people who listened to endless crime podcasts, sifting through the details of cold cases, all the different ways people can torture and kill each other.

Her eyes opened then. They were drowsy, slumberous, staring up at him with a hunger that was impossible to miss. "I felt you," she whispered, a smile tilting her moist lips. "Watching me. Should I feel you watching me?" Was she asleep or awake? "Of course." He found the growl building in his throat. "Every time I look at you, baby, I touch you.

Once a man saw heaven in one woman's arms, then nothing else would do. And that scared the shit out of him, the thought that no other woman but Lilly would do. - Travis/Black Jack about Lilly Belle/Night Hawk (Lady Hawk to him)