Perl doesn't have an infatuation with enforced privacy. It would prefer that you stayed out of its living room because you weren't invited, not because it has a shotgun
Take me to you, imprison me, for I, except you enthrall me, never shall be free, nor ever chaste, except you ravish me.
Faces come and faces go in circular rotation. But something yearns within to grow beyond infatuation.
Infatuation is the language of a beautiful eye upon a sensitive heart.
Love sees clearly, and seeing, loves on. But infatuation is blind; when it gains sight, it dies.
The most striking fault in work by young or beginning novelists, submitted for criticism, is irrelevance--due either to infatuation or indecision. To direct such an author's attention to the imperative of relevance is certainly the most useful--and possibly the only--help that can be given.
Don't divide the world into 'them' and 'us. ' Avoid infatuation with or resentment of the press, the Congress, rivals, or opponents. Accept them as facts. They have their jobs and you have yours.
An infatuated man is not only foolish, but wild.
No one can understand love who has not experienced infatuation. And no one can understand infatuation, no matter how many times he has experienced it.
Love is something that is very personal to each individual based on where they are in their lives. It fluctuates and changes over time. I think there is a massive differentiation between infatuation and love, but people tend to confuse the two.
I thought you hung the moon.
After a semester or so, my infatuation with computers burnt out as quickly as it had begun.
I'm not sure that all books aren't that way. I think that might apply to any book I was writing. The book was kind of the product of this enormous infatuation I had, not only with the office and office politics, but with perspective, and trying to tell a story from as wide a range of perspectives as you possibly can. I tried to capture it all with the first-person plural, but once I settled on that, I used it to tell the story from as many angles as I could. I guess, to put it romantically, it was about a love affair with the craft of perspective.
You can't truly love someone if you also love yourself, just as you can't love someone if you are not honest with them and they with you - otherwise it's just infatuation and desire.
Infatuation is measured in pleasure. Love is measured in pain. Behold the value of pain!
He stares at me so darkly, so hungily that I can only nod. Agree. Of course, I feel it. "I do", I admit.
I cut you out because I couldn't stand being a passing fancy.
My love affair with (him) had a wonderful element of romance to it, which I will always cherish. But it was not an infatuation, and here’s how I can tell: because I did not demand that he become my Great Emancipator or my Source of All Life, nor did I immediately vanish into that man’s chest cavity like a twisted, unrecognizable, parasitical homonculus. During our long period of courtship, I remained intact within my own personality, and I allowed myself to meet (him) for who he was.
Purity engenders Wisdom, Passion avarice, and Ignorance folly, infatuation and darkness.
The evil of infatuation is illustrated by the drunkard.
