Quotes About Obsession

Never had I seen Amadeo so obsessed with either love or misery, with either happiness or grief. But the man was stubborn, the man was drunk, and the man wanted one thing from this strange person prodding him and that was more wine.

Sybelle is obsessed with one thing, and that is playing the piano. For the first time she laid her hands on the keys she has wanted nothing else.

Did you see her as she took Lestat for her lover? Did you see her as sought to frighten mortals with her petty displays of power?

I had seen it with my own eyes, this obsession. I had seen it in a matter of moments in a riverfront tavern, but I had known it for what it was.

How obdurate and strong he seemed, how seductive; how completely mine.

And yet still she watched him... he wondered why. One possibility, and by far his favorite, was that she was planning his murder.

He was accustomed to women wanting him. What shocked him was the simple fact that he wanted her. Not hot, energetic sex. Not a blow job from a novice. He wanted her with a perplexing intensity he hadn't felt in years. He was the King of Death, and she was his consort. And no amount of common sense could distract him.

Dawn couldn't come soon enough. He had to get her out of his life as quickly as possible. It was becoming the most important thing—more important than breathing, living. He needed to get away from her, fast. Because he didn't want to let her go.

When she stopped long enough to think about it she knew the wanting ran through him as deeply as it ran through her.

She collected and polished resentments as if it were some kind of hobby.

flossing his teeth. He couldn't go to bed without flossing his teeth. For some reason, Sarah had found this irritating. If Macon were condemned to death, she'd said once, and they told him he'd be executed by firing squad at dawn, he would no doubt still insist on flossing the night before. Macon, after thinking it over, had agreed.

We could have gone on longing for one another and pretending not to notice forever. This obsession with dignity can ruin your life if you let it.

I feel as though I stand at the foot of an infinitely high staircase, down which some exuberant spirit is flinging tennis ball after tennis ball, eternally, and the one thing I want in the world is a tennis ball.

A writer looking for subjects inquires not after what he loves best, but after what he alone loves at all.

I have often noticed that these things, which obsess me, neither bother nor impress other people even slightly. I am horribly apt to approach some innocent at a gathering, and like the ancient mariner, fix him with a wild, glitt'ring eye and say, "Do you know that in the head of the caterpillar of the ordinary goat moth there are two hundred twenty-eight separate muscles?" The poor wretch flees. I am not making chatter; I mean to change his life.

Honesty, like any inclination, can become a ruling passion, a monomania almost.

Captain Ahab was neither my first husband nor my last.

And yet the real success goes to those who obsess. The focus that leads you through the Dip to the other side is rewarded by a marketplace in search of the best in the world.

real success goes to those who obsess. The focus that leads you through the Dip to the other side is rewarded by a marketplace in search of the best in the world. A woodpecker can tap twenty times on a thousand trees and get nowhere, but stay busy. Or he can tap twenty-thousand times on one tree and get dinner.

We're so obsessed about the risk of shining brightly that we've traded in everything that matters to avoid it.

It wasn't an itch. It was a sickness. It was poison blazing through him, thinking of her all the time, watching her, touching her, wanting and wanting and wanting until his mind went black.

It's going to be this way, you know. Forever and a day, we'll be watched and followed, studied and analyzed. I fear you'll know no peace with me." "Peace," she scoffed, light—but her heart was pounding, fierce and strong. "What a tedious notion. Who requires peace, when one may have Colonel Jack Astor?

He really did want to leave her alone. Forever. Every time they crossed paths he became more and more entangled. He didn't know why. It wasn't as though she was charming or pleasant. But she was beautiful and seductive as hell. Damn it! Chapter 7

Your luck is about to change, Abby.' His voice was low and velvety. 'I know a lot about you. I know how to get into your apartment. How to turn your cat into a noodle. The magnets on your fridge, the view from your window. Your perfume. I could find you blindfolded in a room full of strangers.' His fingers penetrated the veil of her hair, his forefinger stroking the back of her neck with controlled gentleness. 'And I learn fast. Give me ten minutes, and I'd know lots more.