Quotes About Obsession

All creators are unhappy in life. All creators are absolutists.

I have run away with a part of my treasures, my memories, my obsession, with preserving, portraying, recording. All of us may die, but in these pages we will continue to smile, talk, make love.

I came away with pieces of you sticking to me; I am walking about, swimming, in an ocean of blood, your Andalusian blood, distilled and poisonous.

Although I was so big, and so rough in many ways, loved hunting, fighting, horseback riding, I loved the piano above everything else...The mountain man's obsession is to get a glimpse of the sea.

Her beauty drowned me. As I sat in front of her I felt that I would do anything mad for her, anything she asked of me. Henry faded. She was color, brilliance, strangeness.

She fell in love with an extinct volcano.

When Henry telephones, I feel his voice in my veins. I want him to talk into me. I eat Henry, I breathe Henry, Henry is the sun. My cape is his arm around my waist.

What he asked was not the caprice of a lover, but the desire of a painter, of an artist. His eyes were hungry for her beauty.

Su belleza me embargó. Mientras permanecía sentada frente a ella, me di cuenta de que sería capaz de hacer cualquier locura por aquella mujer, lo que me pidiera. Henry se desvaneció. Ella era el color, la brillantez, lo extraño.

Henry no puede hacer que la ame menos, pero sí puede atormentarme haciendo que aparezca más irreal, más desinteresada, demostrando que June no existe, que sólo existe una imagen, inventada por nosotros, por la mente de Henry, y por mi poesía.

She would crush me to ashes without hesitation...She will add the sum of me to her. She will be June, plus all that I contain.

But listen, I must finish Lawrence, Joyce & Proust. It's driving me nuts. I feel like a slacker. I'll spit them out alive, if necessary. I'm screwed up to a frenzy. Vino, vino . . . I wish I had the taste for it. Vino isn't strong enough. It's blood I want. Henry

On what wings does she take flight from Henry? As if the sensual act had been but a mouth applied to an opium pipe.

I study you so much to discover the possible flaws, the weak points, the danger zones. I don't find them—not any. That means I am in love, blind, blind. To be blind forever! (Now they're singing "Heaven and Ocean" from La Gioconda.)

I feel that if I sit down now I will do some bad thinking about Lawrence. Remember Gide on Dostoevsky—"When he began to explain himself he showed himself a bad thinker.

This diary is my kief, hashish and opium pipe. This is my drug and my vice.

Many couples, many people, are not living with real human beings, but with their ghosts. Who has not followed for years the spell of a particular tone of voice, from voice to voice, as the fetishist follows a beautiful foot, scarcely seeing the woman herself? A voice, a mouth, an eye, all stemming from the original fountain of our first desire, directing it, enslaving us, until we choose to unravel the fatal web and free ourselves.

Jeanne, I fell asleep among the paintings, where I could sit for many days worshipping your portrait. I fell in love with your portrait, Jeanne, because it will never change. I have such a fear of seeing you grow old, Jeanne, I fell in love with an unchanging you that will never be taken away from me. I was wishing you would die, so that no one could take you away from me, and I would love the painting of you as you would look eternally.

How can my body betray me when there is so much still to be done? You see, it isn't age itself that betrays you; it is your body, and with its deterioration goes your power. You end up obsessed, entirely focused on your health, paying attention to every nuance, every ache and pain. Instead of working or living your life, you waste your time on appointments with doctors.

My wish is that you may be loved to the point of madness.

Je n'aime pas les hommes; j'aime ce qui les dévore.

One imagines one possesses and in reality one is possessed.

We imagine we possess, and we are possessed.

Her thighs are oiled and dark, and oblivion never felt as good as it does now