Paranoia Quotes Novels & Stories

Let's put it this way: if you look at it with the belief that she has those points of view, the war or the origin of the disease, how to look at it is doubtful, this is the concept caused by the angle of doubt problem. He was a little impatient, "Maybe? I'm not sure, maybe those aren't my hallucinations, they're real messages." Me: "Since when is it like that?" Him: "It would be nice to know, that doesn't happen every day, sometimes it doesn't happen once a month in sight, sometimes it's a couple of things in a row in a week that make me paranoid." Me: "I see, the fact that you never put out the flame thing makes you think this is real."

“And I didn’t want to sound paranoid.” Hadzen’s lips curled into a small, humorless smile. “Sometimes paranoia keeps you alive,” he said. “You should know that by now.” She sat, dark and silent, fidgeting with the cotton ball clutched in one hand, the fiery antiseptic sting barely registering over the fear churning in her chest. “What do you think he wants?” she whispered.

“Which part?” “Not knowing who to trust. Looking at everyone who says they want to help and wondering if they’re actually trying to destroy us.” She paused, and when she spoke again her voice was smaller. “You know what the worst part is? It’s not Marcus, Vincent, or my father. It’s this. The paranoia. Looking at people we’ve worked with for years and wondering if they’ve been lying to our faces the whole time.” “I know,” he said instead of giving her reassurance he isn’t sure about. He pulled her chair closer so he could put an arm around her shoulders without jarring her wound.

That realization hit me like a slap, and I muttered under my breath. “Damn it, Vee. You need to move smarter. No more slip-ups.” I glanced around quickly, just in case someone had heard, but the hallway was mercifully empty, lit only by the flicker of dying torches. I hated how paranoid I’d become, but paranoia was what kept people like me alive.

"Before the proposal and before any of it. You should have told me." "I know," he said. "You are right. I know." "But you did not," I said. "No," he said. "I did not." I stood up because I needed to do something with my body and staying on that sofa was not an option anymore. I walked to the window and stood there looking at the street below and I thought about all the times something had felt slightly off and I had told myself I was being paranoid. The relationship paranoia that people who have been hurt before develop and spend years trying to talk themselves out of.

“She survived what should’ve killed her. That doesn’t make her harmless. That makes her dangerous.” I clenched my fists in the blanket. “I didn’t ask for this. You think I wanted to crawl out of the ground covered in slime? You think I chose it?” Dante’s gaze snapped to me. Those icy eyes cut like they were built to strip me down. “You could’ve fooled me,” he said quietly. “See?” Zara pointed at me, then at him. “She’s telling the truth. You’re just too paranoid to admit it.” His head tilted toward her, slow and deliberate. “Paranoia keeps you alive.”