Quotes About Obsession

Those who know Bertram Wooster best are aware that he is a man of sudden, strong enthusiasms and that, when in the grip of one of these, he becomes a remorseless machine—tense, absorbed, single-minded.

Love is a fever which, so to speak, drives off without wasting time on the address.

I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair. Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets. Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.

I love you only because it's you the one I love; I hate you deeply, and hating you Bend to you, and the measure of my changing love for you Is that I do not see you but love you blindly.

I love you as one loves certain dark things.

Hay un cierto placer en la locura, que solo el loco conoce.

I loved you without knowing it, and I looked for your memory. In empty houses I entered with a lantern to steal your portrait

I cannot quit your love without dying.

But my words become stained with your love. You occupy everything, you occupy everything.

I want to fill my mouth with your name.

En esta historia sólo yo me muero y moriré de amor porque te quiero, porque te quiero, amor, a sangre y fuego.

Attachment is blinding; it lends an imaginary halo of attractiveness to the object of desire.

Another early memory is my wish for an ugly dog belonging to a neighbour. I kept my household in turmoil for weeks to get that dog. My ears were deaf to offers of pets with more prepossessing appearance. Moral: Attachment is blinding; it lends an imaginary halo of attractiveness to the object of desire. "A

she lived a life almost obsessively devoted to triviality. She'd turned into a pond skater, not because she didn't know what lay beneath the surface, but precisely because she did.

Sorry, he said penitently. It's a book. I have no common sense around them.

Oh, yes. He felt the pearls brush down his face again. Dory turned: he met her eyes and let her see the new pearls forming. Anything that beautiful is terrible. Because it's outside of you. It's not you. You'll do anything to make it part of you. You'd eat it, drown in it, kill it, let it kill you. Anything to stop it from not being you.

You nearly killed him- You do dwell on details

That, apparentlu, was what happened when one fell in love. One's brains were sucked away, or turned gelatinous.

They roared into the Lincoln Tunnel. A wild, inexplicable excitement mounted in Therese as she stared through the windshield. She wished the tunnel might cave in and kill them both, that their bodies might be dragged out together. She felt Carol glancing at her from time to time.

What else mattered except being with Carol, anywhere, anyhow?

Thinking no more about it, he stepped off into that cool space, that fast descent to her, with nothing in his mind but a memory of a curve of her shoulder, naked, as he had never seen it.

Beyond Sicily came Greece. He definitely wanted to see Greece. He wanted to see Greece as Dickie Greenleaf with Dickie's money, Dickie's clothes, Dickie's way of behaving with strangers. But would it happen that he couldn't see Greece as Dickie Greenleaf? Would one thing after another come up to thwart him—murder, suspicion, people? He hadn't wanted to murder, it had been a necessity.

For the hundredth time, he examined his face in the bathroom mirror, patiently touched every scratch with the styptic pencil, and repowdered them. He ministered to his face and hands objectively, as if they were not a part of himself. When his eyes met the staring eyes in the mirror, they slipped away as they must have slipped away, Guy thought, that first afternoon on the train, when he had tried to avoid Bruno's eyes.

He resented the fact that she wasn't and never could be what he wished her to be, a girl who loved him passionately […] A girl like herself, with her face, her ambitions, but a girl who adored him.