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"When I write, I write obsessively. I try to pace myself, but some fires are too hot to put out."
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"The thought of her gave me such a continual anguish that I could no more forget her than an aching tooth. It was involuntary, hopeless, compulsive. For years she had been the first thing I remembered when I woke up, the last thing that drifted through my mind as I went to sleep, and during the day she came to me obtrusively, obsessively, always with a painful shock."
"When we first split up, he called me a stalker, but that's like an emotive word, "stalker", isn't it? I don't think you can call it stalking when it's just phone calls and letters and emails and knocking on the door. And I only turned up at his work twice. Three times, if you count his Christmas party, which I don't, because he said he was going to take me to that anyway."
"If I died, I'd expect my guy to mourn me forever, and if he tried to hook up with someone else, I'd haunt him till he ended up in a crazy house. Then I'd haunt the girl."
"I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets. Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps. I hunger for your sleek laugh, your hands the color of a savage harvest, hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails, I want to eat your skin like a whole almond. I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body, the sovereign nose of your arrogant face, I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes, and I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight, hunting for you, for your hot heart, Like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue."
"He spoke as if the answer were a matter of indifference to him. But it was not so. For all his pain, he longed to see the author of it. Although he hated Margaret at times, when he thought of that gentle familiar attitude and all the attendant circumstances, he had a restless desire to renew her picture in his mind--a longing for the very atmosphere she breathed. He was in the Charybdis of passion, and must perforce circle and circle ever nearer round the fatal centre."
"Dead or not, I have come for his heart and I will have it."
"The fans are always more radical than that which they are fans."
Explore more quotes by Carla H. Krueger
"On some days she was able to see both sun and moon at the same time. Like feuding cousins, they hung in two corners of the vast world-ceiling refusing to look at one another. The moon was always harder to spot and more faded, but it was there if you looked, as many things were."
"When a person sets out to learn from others and not to teach others he becomes a true writer."
"Books are like rivers, meandering this way and that, but taking us on a steady, flowing course to somewhere different."
"Nothing in her life makes sense.All she craves is for the pieces of the puzzle to fit together again.She is sure one day it will happen. She just doesn't know when.She can't fight injustice alone" for that, she needs her friends."
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