Quotes About Intrusion

For this has become so crooked and perverse a nation that your precious bodily fluids are no longer your own, and not even your bladder or bloodstream are private. There is no place where they may not watch.

The thought came creeping, just as the numbness came creeping, stealing over his senses, softly, smoothly, there in the silken silence.

Rats They fought the dogs and killed the cats, And bit the babies in the cradles, And ate the cheeses out of the vats, And licked the soup from the cook's own ladles. Split open the kegs of salted sprats, Made nests inside men's Sunday hats, And even spoiled the women's chats By drowning their speaking With shrieking and squeaking In fifty different sharps and flats.

Jon sat in the Range Rover cocoon, listened to Amy sleep, and knew people were beyond the edge of the darkness. Talking and planning, positioning cars at egress points to cover the house, and setting up at the storage facility. No one knew how Amy would react, or which way this would go, so they had to be flexible. Jon resented their intrusion. The

Pike hung up, and I stood in the center of the kitchen and listened to the silence. Someone had been in my home, and it made me feel creepy and violated and angry. I pulled out the Dan Wesson, sat it on the kitchen counter, and crossed my arms. "Let's see'm come back now." Acting tough will sometimes help, but not always, and the gun did not lessen the feeling that I was vulnerable and at risk. They seldom do.

and a barge that sailed into the banqueting-hall with his week's washing, just as he was giving a dinner-party; and he was

It was like waking up one morning and finding that a wild animal has wandered into your house. No place felt safe to me.

What in Tink's contractual hell are you doing here?

A swarm of tiny noxious animals had bored a way into my inner man and hollowed me out.

Hey! When he dug into it, rifling through her things, she snapped, Go Yoda someone else's supplies, asshole.

I forgot all about him and lost myself in the story.That's what I love about films and good books- you can climb right into them and be there. I just hate it when I'm doing that, and then somebody butts in and messes with my concentration.

Nails and nuggets! roared the King; how dare you bring that beast here and enter my presence unannounced? There wasn't anybody to announce me, replied Betsy. I guess your folks were all busy. Are you conquered yet? No! shouted the King, almost beside himself with rage.

I'm not about to talk about what's romantic in my life - I figure if you talk about it once - then that's an open invitation for everyone to dig into your personal life even further

Now... what I feel these in my brain is just like... some kind of foreign body... like having a very thin little eyelash in your eye. You feel generally okay, but that eye with the last in it-you can't get it off your mind for a second.

I discovered how our hearts, as though infected with some malignant virus, were being eaten away by the uneasy awakening that was brazenly intruding upon our dream, by the futile pleasure of our dream seen at the threshold of consciousness.

It...It...It's... The peeping tom!!

I turned with the receiver to the wall as I absorbed the fact of Ivan's voice, and when I glanced back at the man on my sofa, he seemed like a scrap of paper, or the handle from a broken cup, or a single rubber band—a thing that has become dislodged from its rightful place and intrudes on one's consciousness two or three or many times before one understands that it is just a thing best thrown away.

The minuses of celebrity include having to live with security and the knowledge that you may be stalked.

Everyone knows everything about all of us. That's too much knowledge!

I'm learning to accept the lack of privacy as the real downer in my profession.

But rather than looking forward to reading that account, I felt as if I were stealing a private diary that had been locked by his death.

He sat up abruptly in bed, stifled another cough. Someone was in his lighthouse. More than one person. Whispering. Or maybe even shouting, the sound by the time it infiltrated the brick and stone, the wood and steel, brought to him through a distance, a time, that he couldn't know. The irrational thought that he was hearing the ghosts of dozens of lighthouse keepers all at once, in a kind of threnody, the condensed chorus of a century. Another phantom sound?

E' così che la follia del mondo prova a impossessarti di te: penetrando dall'esterno, costringendoti a vivere nella sua realtà.

Like thieves in the night, unwelcome thoughts can and do seek entrance to our minds. But we don't have to throw open the door, serve them tea and crumpets and tell them where the silverware is kept!