Invasive Behavior Quotes

It's crazy enough to be the person crawling through the bushes in Northern Ireland with a telescopic lens taking pictures - there are crazy people out there. But the idea that people want to go to sites and find out those spoilers... it's like if there was a website called Last Pages of Great Books, would you read that?

Having people wait outside of my house sort of gives me a panic attack. I'm a believer in the concept that people should not be followed and photographed everywhere.

Vee said," I'm trying to read the title he's holding…hang on…How to Be a Stalker." "He is not checking out a book with that title." But I wasn't so sure. "It's either that of How to Radiate Sexy Without Trying.

Why not go down the pub? A guy once came up to me at a gig and asked me if I had MySpace. I said, 'This is my space, and you're invading it.'

You're a stalker with hooves." -Percy Jackson

I'm still very sensitive and wary of people recognising me The only thing that really annoys me is people trying to surreptitiously take a photo on their phone without asking. I feel it's cowardly and a bit pathetic. Just ask me if you really want me to have a photograph with you.

For two hours, some guy followed me around with a pooper scooper.

I really think that reading a whole script is kind of prying and neurotic, don't you?

Most non-New Yorkers, finding themselves within hearing range of strangers' conversation, think it's nice to pretend they didn't hear. But many New Yorkers think it's nice to toss in a relevant comment.

The federal government said today they've begun training sessions for airport security workers to provide what they call more customer satisfaction to the travels, they want to make it easier for us. They're instructing security guards to glance at your luggage tags so that they can call you by your first name. Isn't that creepy? The guy touching your wife, calling her by her first name.

When you come in the club, people are trying to get your attention, so they pull your hand. It's like, why are you pulling on me?

For a number of years at my public elementary school in rural Maine, I was treated like all the other girls in school. That changed in September 2007 when a male classmate, set on a path by his grandfather, followed me into the girls' restroom. The end result was that I had to use the school's staff bathroom - just me, no one else.

People want to see other's secrets and get a peek into their lives.

People read stuff over your shoulder when you're in public, and when you write the kind of stuff I do, and people read it over your shoulder, it makes you a little self-conscious.

Who taught you to write in blood on my back? Who taught you to use your hands as branding irons? You have scored your name into my shoulders, referenced me with your mark. The pads of your fingers have become printing blocks, you tap a message on to my skin, tap meaning into my body. Your morse code interferes with my heart beat. I had a steady heart before I met you, I relied upon it, it had seen active service and grown strong. Now you alter its pace with your own rhythm, you play upon me, drumming me taut.

I don't mind people looking at me. That's never bothered me. I don't want them looking at me in my house; now that would bother me.

It is so frustrating to feel in danger. People have followed me around at 2 in the morning and have literally said, 'Don't make me follow you. You're not responding to me.' It's incredibly degrading.

I don't like people touching my face.

It's a strange environment, being hounded. The paparazzi are cretins.

I've had fans break into my hotel rooms.

The way the people around you position themselves around you to get in your pockets and in your mind is infuriating to me.

When they kissed she immediately felt his tongue, tensed and strong, pushing past her teeth, like some bully shouldering his way into a room. Entering her.

They're really aggressive. They're like roaches on bread - you drop some on the floor and, boom, they're on it.

I'm a real voyeur.

The mother- poor invaded soul- finds even the bathroom door no bar to hammering little hands.