Quotes About Obsession

I could not sleep when I got on such a hunt for an idea until I had caught it; ...This was a kind of passion with me, and it has stuck by me; for I am never easy now, when I am handling a thought, till I have bounded it north, and bounded it south, and bounded it east, and bounded it west.

Just as Europeans would be long obsessed with African cannibalism, so Africans imagined Europeans practicing the same thing.

I was so in love I went into my room and drank half a bottle of Robitussin.

When I kicked in the first TV – a nineteen-inch Magnavox with wicker speaker panels – it felt like the most perfect thing I had done in a long time. And there's nothing like the feeling of perfection that will inspire repeated behavior

When I close my eyes, all I ever see is her face. There is no place or time without her. Where I am doesn't matter when we're apart. All I want is her.

But the lust for power never dies- men cannot have enough. No one will lift a hand to send it from his door, to give it warning, 'Power, never come again!

I wanted to marry wood. I wanted to chew down some two–by–fours, crawl inside a tree, slide elm into my aorta so that every beat of every second was a grand waltz with luck.

Yet we can perhaps only ever fall in love without knowing quite who we have fallen in love with. The initial convulsion is necessarily founded on ignorance. Love or simple obsession?

The philosophy of mature love is marked by an active awareness of the good and bad within each person, it is full of temperance, it resists idealization, it is free of jealousy, masochism, or obsession, it is a form of friendship with a sexual dimension, it is pleasant, peaceful, and reciprocated (and perhaps explains why most people who have known the wilder shores of desire would refuse its painlessness the title of "love").

Infatuations aren't delusions.

Desire had turned me into a relentless hunter for clues, a romantic paranoiac, reading meaning into everything.

The premodern world directed us to read so little because it was obsessed by a question modernity likes to dodge: what is the point of reading?

Miss S. bevorzugte das pathetische Wort 'land' gegenüber dem üblichen 'country'. 'This land …' In diesem Sinne gebraucht, ist es zwar nicht direkt die Sprache des Wahnsinns, aber doch der Besessenheit. Zeugen Jehovas sprechen ständig von 'this land', ebenso die National Front. Land ist gleich country plus Vorsehung – ein Land im Angesicht Gottes. Auch Mrs. Thatcher sagt 'this land'.

Back to Jak— Why does everyone always want to go back to Jakku? There's nothing there! Sand and junk and rocks and sand and quicksand and sand—I don't get it!

It is pathetic, though. Is it not? You and I, both in pursuit of a ghost

A shared passion for a subject, large or small, could quickly put two strangers into a special state of subdued rapture and rivalry, distantly resembling love; but you had to hit on the subject.

He feels himself falling. He wants to spend every minute with her, he wants to possess her, her purity, her body, her mind. She is what he has been waiting for. Now he can live.

And I'm thinking about the old man. He'll be pounding on the glass right about now... or maybe not now. Maybe in a while. But he'll be pounding and... will there be blood? I like to imagine so. Yes, I rather think there will be blood. Lots of blood. Blood in extraordinary quantities.

What kind of disturbed individual would read the same book twice, I ask you?

I loved them as poets love the poetry that kills them, as drowned sailors the sea.

NO CHAIN, She asked me did I ever love her, my reply was of course I did, and she said why didn't you try an' get me back, then I told her our love was lost, that you are referring to is not love, It is called obsession, something I could never be. -MillYentei

The obsessive passion of Pururava for Urvashi that led to his downfall would become manifest generations later in Shantanu, not once but twice, first in his love for Ganga and then his love for Satyavati, with the same disastrous consequences. Because human memory is short, and history always repeats itself.

Objectivity is obsessed with exactness and tends to be rather intolerant of deviation, almost

More you feel passion, more you lose control