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Quote by Shannon L. Alder

“Obsession /əbˈseSHən/ (noun) 1. The act of constantly asking hackers to get the Google Passwords of the person you can't ever leave alone. 2. Constantly telling every new woman that that this person won't leave you alone, while you are looking them up on the computer to see if they are looking you up on the computer. 3. Ruining every relationship you are in because of this other person you are obsessed over. 4. A trait of a narcissist”

Quote by Shannon L. Alder

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Shannon L. Alder

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“For artists, obsession obviously comes in handy. It not only gives us the energy and power to create the artistic object, but it fills up our minds in a way few other things could. But can obsession fill the death hole? Of course not, though maybe it is out of nothingness that we all begin to create. If the world doesn't exist then we will make our own world. Maybe all this fever of creation, this need to be special, this frenzy--what Thomas Wolfe called an "enormous task of excavation" of self--this creation comes at least in part out of the terror of pure emptiness, the terror of the end. The need to fill the void, to make something out of this vast sense of nothing. Extreme fear of oblivion creating extreme creation. We hurl ourselves against the death void.”

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“Missing someone you love for an extended period of time can and will lead to madness, every bit as much as a wound that is not cleaned will lead to a festering sore, and thence an illness that spreads throughout the body. The only boundary between desire and obsession is time; if you crave someone long enough, it becomes a need. It becomes your ever-waking thought. The only thing you live for.”

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“Finally, he'd been forced to rip her hands from his shoulders and pin them to the sheets as he finished, and she'd fought him enough that he'd had to work a little to keep her pinned. When he came, Nick felt so dizzy with lust that it was like his head had been packed with cotton. She's all mine, he thought, as he thrust into her a final time, burying his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling the floral scent of her hair. She doesn't need to love me to give me what I want.”

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“Apples of Hesperides Glinting golden through the trees, Apples of Hesperides! Through the moon-pierced warp of night Shoot pale shafts of yellow light, Swaying to the kissing breeze Swings the treasure, golden-gleaming, Apples of Hesperides!. Far and lofty yet they glimmer, Apples of Hesperides! Blinded by their radiant shimmer, Pushing forward just for these; Dew-besprinkled, bramble-marred, Poor duped mortal, travel-scarred, Always thinking soon to seize And possess the golden-glistening Apples of Hesperides!. Orbed, and glittering, and pendent, Apples of Hesperides! Not one missing, still transcendent, Clustering like a swarm of bees. Yielding to no man's desire, Glowing with a saffron fire, Splendid, unassailed, the golden Apples of Hesperides!”

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