obsession

Never stand in the way of letting God use people__ actions, in order to solve a greater issue in the world.

It seems to me that evil is a kind of ultimate greed, a greed that is so all-encompassing that it can't ever see anything lovely, rare, or precious without wanting to possess it. A greed so total that if it can't possess these things, it will destroy them rather than chance that someone else might have them. And a greed so intense that even having these things never causes it to lessen one iota -- the lovely, the rare and the precious never affect it except to make it want them.

His three boats stove around him, and oars and men both whirling in the eddies; one captain, seizing the line-knife from his broken prow, had dashed at the whale, as an Arkansas duellist at his foe, blindly seeking with a six inch blade to reach the fathom-deep life of the whale. That captain was Ahab. And then it was, that suddenly sweeping his sickle-shaped lower jaw benieath him, Moby Dick had reaped away Ahab's leg.

Searching for a lost city is a particularly European obsession.

Friendship marks a life even more deeply than love. Love risks degenerating into obsession, friendship is never anything but sharing.

Marie, let__ suppose that two firemen go into a forest to put out a small fire. Afterwards, when they emerge and go over to a stream, the face of one is all smeared with black, while the other man__ face is completely clean. My question is this: which of the two will wash his face? That__ a silly question. The one with the dirty face of course._ No, the one with the dirty face will look at the other man and assume that he looks like him. And, vice versa, the man with the clean face will see his colleague covered in grime and say to himself: I must be dirty too. I__ better have a wash._ What are you trying to say?_ I__ saying that, during the time I spent in the hospital, I came to realize that I was always looking for myself in the women I loved. I looked at their lovely, clean faces and saw myself reflected in them. They, on the other hand, looked at me and saw the dirt on my face and, however intelligent or self-confident they were, they ended up seeing themselves reflected in me thinking that they were worse than they were. Please, don__ let that happen to you.

....I'd rather travel in Cargo-nanoships than a Bullet-train to reach my target.

At the end of the day your ability to connect with your readers comes down to how you make them feel.

And I wasn__ playing a role _ I was trying to be myself.But the harder I was striving, the more I was realizing that I had probably lost that __yself_ somewhere between two perfectly performed roles...

She hates everything that is not what she longs for.

It's nothing serious," he said. "It's just an obsession.

It is easy to identify a shallow person by the attention he gives to what will do him absolutely no good.

Desire is the straw that stirs the drink.

I had possessed her - and she never knew it.

I want her to melt into me, like butter on toast. I want to absorb her and walk around for the rest of my days with her encased in my skin.I want.

The obsession with suicide is characteristic of the man who can neither live nor die, and whose attention never swerves from this double impossibility.

Have only this consolation--that he was never a fiend or even truly a madman, but only an eager, studious, and curious boy whose love of mystery and of the past was his undoing. He stumbled on things no mortal ought ever to know, and reached back through the years as no one ever should reach; and something came out of those years to engulf him.

My sense of the past is vivid and slow. I hear every sign and see every shadow.