Quotes About Captivation

What is beauty, anyway? It's more than something pleasant looking. If it doesn't stop us in our tracks and make us unable to move for a moment, unable to put into words what's closing off the breath in our throats, then maybe it's pretty, but it probably isn't beauty.

I'm kind of a weirdo; I love prison movies and war movies.

Trangen til å lese tok meg og holdt meg i sitt deilige, berusende grep. Jo mer jeg leste, desto mer hungret jeg. Hvert verk var rikt på løfter; hver side jeg bladde om, var en eventyrferd, tiltrekning fra en annen verden.

If, in the very first pages, I'm forced to read gratuitous phrases or banal metaphors, I won't be able to get inside the story. Only if the sentences 'sparkle' can I get hooked.

A living poem had always been the words that came to mind when he tried to describe her to others.

What is the use of theorizing as to wherein lies the charm that moves us?

The camera makes you forget you're there. It's not like you are hiding but you forget, you are just looking so much.

Anything - a destination, a person - that has some mystery around it becomes exciting and attractive.

If he was not careful, this woman would fascinate him.

He had expected to be challenged by this woman, not captivated. She surprised him, and surprise made him vaguely uneasy.

Raven stared up at his face, drinking in the strong lines and the way he looked at her with something close to adoration. She smiled at him. "I think you've managed to put some kind of spell on me." "If I did," he whispered, "it backfired, and I managed to ensnare myself as well.

She had captured his heart and he didn't ever want it back.

She laughed, and the sound was tantalizing. He didn't understand how musical notes could stroke a man's skin and dance along his thighs. He didn't understand how the notes could be an arrow that pierced his heart. She owned him.

Fuck no, he wasn't saving her. [...] he was keeping her for himself.

I think you've managed to put some kind of spell on me." "If I did," he whispered, "it backfired, and I managed to ensnare myself as well.

Il giorno in cui una donna che vi passa davanti sprigiona luce camminando, siete perduto, amate. Non vi rimane da far altro che una cosa: pensare a lei così intensamente da costringerla a pensare a voi.

Qué había esta vez en la mirada de la joven? Marius no hubiera podido decirlo. No había nada y lo había todo. Fue un relámpago extraño. [...] Es una especie de ternura indecisa que se revela al azar y que espera. Es una trampa que la inocencia arma sin saberlo, donde atrapa a dos corazones sin quererlo.

Here we are now, entertain us.

Damon, with his shock of dark hair, long lashes, and broad shoulders, caused women to look twice.

the air seeming to gather around her like held breath. As if this whole place were a story about her.

the stories poured from him, and Lazlo listened. He listened the way a cactus drinks rain. In

He held a goddess in his mind as one might cup a butterfly in one's hands. Keeping it safe just long enough to set it free.

Prague entranced you, lured you in, like the mythic fey who trick travelers deep into forests until they're lost beyond hope.

You know that feeling," she said, "when you are reading a book, and you know that it is going to be a tragedy; you can feel the cold and darkness coming, see the net drawing tight around the characters who live and breathe on the pages. But you are tied to the story as if being dragged behind a carriage and you cannot let go or turn the course aside.