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Quote by Elle M Cross

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Elle M Cross

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“She would hate him even more if she knew all the depraved things he’d done. The fantasies, the stalking, the fucking obsession. That he had used her shampoo to jerk off and stolen her clothes, her lipstick. That when she wasn’t around, he had sometimes lain in her bed and imagined what it would be like to touch her the way she said she’d wanted to be touched in her journal. And of course, he had watched her touch herself. Every catch of her breath, every discreet rustle of fabric, every teasing glimpse of brown skin—he had seen it all, and taken it as a sign that not even Jay was immune to pleasure. And, more importantly, that he could give it to her. He could be the one to make her come.”

ObsessionDark RomanceStalkerToxic LoveStalker Romance
Book:Sine Qua Non
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“And as he sat there alone, he knew that never again would he have any sensation of peace or contentment, that never would his days or his nights be free from anguish and bitter distress. Because of what he had seen and heard that evening he would be driven tormented to mental horror as yet unknown to him and feared, there would be no rest for him until he had crushed and hidden and made secure into eternity his own creation, possessed for ever or returned to the place from whence it came.”

ObsessionToxicityControlling ParentsIncestuous
Book:Julius
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“You gave me a marvellous sensation when you played,” I told her, “it was beautiful, intoxicating, I shall never forget it. You have a rare – no – a very dangerous talent.” She was silent, and then spoke in her restrained, breathless little voice. “I played for you,” she said, “I wanted to see what it was like to play to a man.” Her words bewildered me, they seemed utterly inexplicable. She was not lying, her eyes looked straight into mine, and she was smiling.”

MusicObsession
Book:The Doll
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“The Taxi When I go away from you The world beats dead Like a slackened drum. I call out for you against the jutted stars And shout into the ridges of the wind. Streets coming fast, One after the other, Wedge you away from me, And the lamps of the city prick my eyes So that I can no longer see your face. Why should I leave you, To wound myself upon the sharp edges of the night?”

Poetry
Book:The Complete Poetical Works of Amy Lowell
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