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Quote by Samantha Highfill

“To be a fan of The Vampire Diaries isn't just to like it. It isn't just to love it. It's to obsess over it. It's the kind of fandom that still, more than fifteen years after the series first premiered, attends conventions all over the globe just to get a glimpse of their favorite star or hear them talk about Mystic Falls. It's a fandom that certainly launched with the book series but became something entirely new when the show really took off.”

Quote by Samantha Highfill

Book:I Was Feeling Epic: An Oral History of The Vampire Diaries
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I Was Feeling Epic: An Oral History of The Vampire Diaries

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Samantha Highfill

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“From that first day in his church, Jacks had wanted to watch her. He wanted to know what her voice sounded like, what her skin felt like. He'd followed her, listened to her prayer- hated her prayer. It had been one of the most god-awful prayers he'd ever heard. And yet even then he hadn't been able to walk away. He wanted a piece of her. To keep her. To use her for later. At least that's what he'd told himself. She was only a key. A human. She wasn't an obsession. She wasn't his.”

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“Algunas veces me decía a mí misma que tal vez se pasaba un día entero sin pensar ni un segundo en mí. Lo veía levantarse, tomarse el café, hablar, reír, como si yo no existiera. Ese desfase respecto a mi propia obsesión me llenaba de asombro. ¿Cómo era posible? Pero él mismo se habría quedado de una pieza al saber que yo no me lo quitaba de la cabeza en todo el día. No había motivo alguno para encontrar mi actitud más justa que la suya. En cierto sentido, yo tenía más suerte que él. Cuando él telefoneaba para que nos viéramos, su tan esperada llamada no cambiaba nada, yo seguía con la misma dolorosa tensión de antes. Me hallaba en un estado en el que ni siquiera la realidad de su voz conseguía hacerme feliz. Todo era una carencia sin fin, salvo el momento en que estábamos juntos haciendo el amor. Y, aun así, me obsesionaba el momento que vendría a continuación, cuando se hubiera marchado. Vivía el placer como un dolor futuro.”

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“When he was very young, Auberon had begun a collection of postmarks. On a trip with Doc to the post office in Meadowbrook, he had begun idly examining the wastebaskets, having nothing else to do, and had immediately come up with two treasures: envelopes from places that seemed fantastically distant to him, and looking remarkably crisp for having come so far. It soon developed into a small passion, like Lily's for bird's nests. He insisted on accompanying whoever was traveling near a post office; he conned his friends' mail; he gloated over distant cities, far states whose names began with I, and, rarest of all, names from across the sea. Then one day Joy Flowers, whose granddaughter had lived abroad for a year, gave him a fat brown bag full of envelopes sent her from every part of the world. He could hardly find on the map a place which had not stamped its name on one of these pieces of blue flimsy. Some of them came from places so distant they weren't even in the alphabet he knew. And at a stroke his collection was complete, and his pleasure in it over. No discovery he could make in Meadowbrook's post office could add to it. He never looked at it again.”

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