Best 189 of Monster quotes - MyQuotes
They say the crazies come out at night. I say the crazies come out during election year: Elections have the power to turn once seemingly normal people into certified loonies.
What plan of action? What can be done? We can’t fight the whole society.” “I was thinking we could use you as bait and draw them into a trap,” Gregori said, straight-faced. Gary’s eyes widened in alarm. “I’m not sure I like that plan. Sounds a little risky to me.” He looked at Savannah for support. Gregori shrugged his broad shoulders in a casual shrug. “I do not see a risk.” Savannah’s small clenched fist thumped his stomach in retaliation. Gregori glanced down at her with surprise. “Is this when I am supposed to say ouch?” Savannah and Gary exchanged a long, mournful groan. “Why did I want him to have a sense of humor?” she wondered. Gary shook his head. “Don’t be asking me. You created the monster.
There was nothing but power, and those who hadn't yet found the tap. (Greachin)
In the end, I'm not interested in that which I fully understand. The words I have written over the years are just a veneer. There are truths that lie beneath the surface of the words... truths that rise up without warning, like the humps of a sea monster and then disappear. What performance and song is to me is finding a way to tempt the monster to the surface, to create a space, where the creature can break through what is real and what is known to us. This shimmering space, where imagination and reality intersect... this is where all love and tears and joy exist. This is the place. This is where we live.
It was not a monster that lay sleeping on the white sheets. Nor a faceless horror. Nor even the white bear. It was a man. His hair was golden, glowing bright as a bonfire in the light of the candle. And his features were fair, I suppose, but he was a stranger and that somehow was the greatest shock of all- that I had been lying all these months beside a complete stranger.
If men were not besot by their dogmas, they may have realized their own follies. It is the man who stands aside as evil happens that is truly the monster.
I see your bleeding dark side. I feel your angry heart. Reveals forbidden places. More monster yet alive...
You can't stop a soldier from being frightened but you can give him motivation to help him overcome that fear. I have no such motivation. I can't have. I'm a witcher: an artificially created mutant. I kill monsters for money. I defend children when their parents pay me to. If Nilfgaardian parents pay me, I'll defend Nilfgaardian children. And even if the world lies in ruin - which does not seem likely to me - I'll carry on killing monsters in the ruins of this world until some monster kills me. That is my fate, my reason, my life and my attitude to the world. And it is not what I chose. It was chosen for me.
You battled monsters. You sweat and cried your way to this one prolific moment where you finally realize that those dark days and sleepless nights were pre-requisites to your becoming.
At last, when the dust settled, the Queen and the Jinni stood on the mountaintop and looked down on the battlefield and the bodies spread like leaves across the desert. The Queen fell to her knees, wearied and wounded, and her sword dropped from her hand. Before her, the doorway to Ambadya burned with fires of every color. “All I wanted,” said the Queen, “was peace between our peoples. But I see now that this is not possible, for my people are ruled by a dreamer, and the jinn are ruled by a monster. My only consolation is that thou art by my side, my Jinni. I would die in the company of a friend, and give thee my final breath. For I have one wish remaining, and it is for thy freedom, yea, even at the cost of mine own life.” At this the Jinni shook her head, replying, “Nay, my queen. The time for wishing is passed. For here is the Shaitan, Lord of all Jinn and King of Ambadya.” And even as she spoke, the fires in the doorway rose higher, and through them stepped Nardukha the Shaitan, terrible to behold. “O impudent woman,” said the Shaitan, looking down at the Queen. “Wouldst thou dare make the Forbidden Wish?” “I would,” she replied. “For I fear thee not.” “Then thou art a fool.” As the Queen’s heart turned to ashes, realizing her doom was upon her, the Shaitan turned to the Jinni and said, “Dost thou recall the first rule of thy kinsmen, Jinni?” And the Jinni replied, “Love no human.” “And hast thou kept this commandment?” “Lord, I have.” And up she rose, as the Queen cried out in dismay. “Are not we like sisters?” asked the Queen. “Of one heart and one spirit?” And the Jinni replied, “Nay, for I am a creature of Ambadya, and thus is my nature deceitful and treacherous. My Lord has come at last, and I would do all that he commands.” The Shaitan, looking on with approval, said to the Jinni, “This human girl is proud and foolish, thinking she could rule both men and jinn. I am well pleased with thee, my servant, who hast brought her to me. Slay the queen and prove thy loyalty to thy king.” And the Jinni grinned, and in her eyes rose a fire. “With pleasure, my Lord.” Then, with a wicked laugh, she struck down the good and noble Queen, the mightiest and wisest of all the Amulen monarchs, whose only mistake was that she had dared to love a Jinni.
It's bizarre, but as disgusting and evil and terrible as the Wolfman is, I can't help but feel he's unable to control himself. It seems to me he makes up bizarre excuses to make it okay for him to kill and rape, because he can't stop himself from killing and raping. Whether born or made, the Wolfman is more creature than human. He's a monster.
The monster nevers dies.
All I heard was the foulest sounding wheeze imaginable, cut off by a wet chittering noise and a horrid emphysemic breathing. Why my head turned slowest now, I still don’t know, but as I set my eyes on the monitor, I struggled to believe it. Where my daughter once was, all I could see now was a black, curved mass, shiny and contorted. One that seemed to sway from side to side, those horrible sounds emanating from it.
I sunk to my knees in the spot he had left me. I felt a part of me had just been lost. I was fraught with so many emotions, confused by them all; however, I was hurt more than anything. Hurt to hear him call himself a monster. A monster? Of all the things I thought he was, a monster was not one of them.
My little man,” she said. “No.” She stretched out her hand to him. “Come.” “I can’t,” he said. “Sam, I’m your mother. I love you. Come with me.” “Mom…” “Just reach out to me. I’m safe. I can carry you away, out of this place.” Sam shook his head slowly, slowly, like he was drowning in molasses. Something was happening to time. Astrid wasn’t breathing. Nothing was moving. The whole world was frozen. “It will be like it was,” his mother said. “It was never…,” he began. “You lied to me. You never told me…” “I never lied,” she said, and frowned at him, disappointed. “You never told me I had a brother. You never told—” “Just come with me,” she said, impatient now, jerking her hand a little like she would when he was a little kid and refused to take her hand to cross the street. “Come with me now, Sam. You’ll be safe and out of this place.” He reacted instinctively, the little boy again, reacted to the “mommy” voice, the “obey me” voice. He reached for her, stretched his hand out to her. And pulled it back. “I can’t,” Sam whispered. “I have someone I have to stay here for.” Anger flashed in his mother’s eyes, a green light, surreal, before she blinked and it was gone. And then, out of the bleached, unreal world, Caine stepped into the eerie light. Sam’s mother smiled at Caine, and he stared at her wonderingly. “Nurse Temple,” Caine said. “Mom,” she corrected. “It’s time for both my boys to join me, to come away with me. Out of this place.” Caine seemed spellbound, unable to tear his gaze away from the gentle, smiling face, the piercing blue eyes. “Why?” Caine asked in a small child’s voice. Their mother said nothing. Once again, for just a heartbeat, her blue eyes glowed a toxic green before returning to cool, icy blue. “Why him and not me?” Caine asked. “It’s time to come with me now,” their mother insisted. “We’ll be a family. Far from here.” “You first, Sam,” Caine said. “Go with your mother.” “No,” Sam said. Caine’s face darkened with rage. “Go, Sam. Go. Go. Go with her.” He was shouting now. He seemed to want to grab Sam physically, push him toward the mother they had not quite shared, but his movements were odd, disjointed, a jerky stick figure in a dream. Caine gave up trying. “Jack told you,” he said dully. “No one told me anything,” Sam said. “I have things I have to do here.” Their mother extended her arms to them, angry, demanding to be heeded. “Come to me. Come to me.” Caine shook his head slowly. “No.” “But you’re the man of the house now, Sam,” his mother wheedled. “My little man. Mine.” “No,” Sam said. “I’m my own man.” “And I was never yours,” Caine sneered. “Too late now, Mother.” The face of their mother wavered. The tender flesh seemed to break apart in jigsaw-puzzle pieces. The gently smiling, pleading mouth melted, collapsed inward. In its place a mouth ringed with needle-sharp teeth. Eyes filled with green fire. “I’ll have you yet,” the monster raged with sudden violence. Caine stared in horror. “What are you?” “What am I?” the monster mocked him savagely. “I’m your future. You’ll come to me on your own in the dark place, Caine. You will come willingly to me.
The enemy of my enemy is my friend ... even if it's a monster.
...and who looks at a shadow when then have a flame? Who would ever choose a monster over a god?
This is the Manifesto of Little Monster There is something heroic about the way my fans operate their cameras. So precisely, so intricately and so proudly. Like Kings writing the history of their people, is their prolific nature that both creates and procures what will later be percieved as the kingdom. So the real truth about Lady Gaga fans, my little monsters, lies in this sentiment: They are the Kings. They are the Queens. They write the hisory of the kingdom and I am something of a devoted Jester. It is in the theory of perception that we have established our bond, or the lie I should say, for which we kill. We are nothing without our image. Without our projection. Without the spiritual hologram of who we percieve ourselves to be or rather to become, in the future. When you are lonely, I will be lonely too. And this is the fame.
Ilsa J. Bick
No one can help but stare at the monster, because horror is a cousin to awe.
Everything in this world, as well as the world itself, strives for balance and harmony. Electron reaches proton, male tends to female, light replaces darkness, life is balanced by death, and vice versa. And evil on one scale will inevitably lead to the appearance of good on the other.
Its better to be thought a fool, than to open one's mouth and remove all doubt.
I walked until the water lapped against my chest, and then I kept walking until it kissed the underside of my jaw. I was surprised how cold it was. I closed my eyes and ducked beneath the surface. Thee was the wind and the clouds and the pure pool and the boy beneath its unsettled surface, and the blood, the boy's and monster's, defiling the pool.
If it's a monster, we made it that way.
They'll use guns and they'll use words, and the worst part of all is that you might listen when they say you're a freak or a monster, and you might start to believe it. But they are lying.
Searching through Monster.com while on the clock feels like being on Tinder while still married.
There will always be those who say you are too young and delicate to make anything happen for yourself. They don't see the part of you that smolders. Don't let their doubting drown out the sound of your own heartbeat. You are the first drop of rain in a hurricane. Your bravery builds beyond you. You are needed by all the little girls still living in secret, writing oceans made of monsters, and throwing like lightning. You don't need to grow up to find greatness. You are so much stronger than the world has ever believed you could be. The world is waiting for you to set it on fire. Trust in yourself and burn.
No one had fought back. His friends had not retaliated and morphed into monsters. They had fallen like flies. Perhaps such evil did not lurk in the others. Perhaps he's been wrong. The thought came to him suddenly, stopping his heart as if he'd been yanked from the dance hall and flung countries and time-zones away only to crash into arctic waters. It marked the end of something, as revelations often do. He was the monsters.
What are you?" Lady Marsden asked, not bothering to hide her surprise. Obviously the lady was not accustomed to being caught snooping, let alone shut down twice. "I have no idea,
Michael Bassey Johnson
What every man should desire is an ugly woman with a beautiful heart, not a beautiful woman with an ugly heart.
You -have- to love your monster.
She was a magnificent creature created in a science lab, the bride of Frankenstein. He, of course, comprehended that he was the monster. Freddy was Frankenstein, the creator.
However, as I say, he stood there and watched. Watched the smoke, or vapor, or whatever it was, whirl and whirl, faster and faster, snatching up the vagrant wisps and streamers that had strayed to the far corners of the room, sucking them in, incorporating them into the central column, until at last that column, swirling there, seemed almost solid. It was solid. It had ceased its whirling and stood there quivering, jelly-like, plastic, but nevertheless, solid. And, as though molded in the hands of an invisible sculptor, that column was changing. Indentations appeared here, protuberances there. The character of the surface altered subtly; presently it was no longer smooth and lustrous, but rough and scaly. It lost most of its luminosity and became an uncertain, lichenous green. Until at last it was a - thing. That moment, Denning thinks, was the most horrible in all the adventure. Not because of the horror of the thing that stood before him, but because at that very moment an automobile, driven by some belated citizen passed by outside, the light from its headlights casting eerie gleams across the walls and the ceiling; and the thought of the difference between the commonplace world in which that citizen was living, and the frightful things taking place in this room almost overcame the cowering man by the doorway. And, too, the light made just that much plainer the disgusting details of the creature that towered above them. ("Out Of The Jar")
When did the very first case of racism even occur? When did such blind hatred devour the souls of men and make them turn on their own brothers and sisters? What ever taught them that it was normal to be such monsters?
You want to know who the strongest man in the Kabuki District is? You must be new in town. You won't last long with that attitude. Forget it. This town is on a whole different level. You got thugs, brawlers, vigilantes and rogue warriors from all over Edo here. It's like a haven for hooligans. This is for your own good. Have a drink and go back to the countryside. What's that? You want me to tell you about the top dogs before you go? You really like this stuff. First, there are four monsters on a level of their own: The Fierce and Divine Madamoiselle Saigo, Doromizu Jirocho the Gallant, Peacock Princess Kada and Empress Otose. The four factions are in a standoff which preserves a fragile balance of power. Who would be the strongest in a fight? You wouldn't be able to even scratch those beasts. Saigo and Jirocho in particular, were heroes during the Joui War. Well, they're too old to go on a tear now. If you want someone who's currently active, there's Katsuro Kuroguma, a young leader in the Doromizu Faction. He's the most feared man in Kabuki District right now. You'll also find a few former Joui in Saigo's Faction. There are rumours about Kada's Faction having ties to some crazy folk. Otose's Faction? It's just a bar, really. She's just an old lady with a soft heart. But if you try any funny business on her turf, you'll run into a certain guy. A guy who holds his own against the Big Three by himself. One hell of a monster, with hair that's completely white. A demon...
Alecto Sydney Steele, an entity of few words whom society managed to overlook as it rapidly dove into the 21st century. Everything about him, his interests, his friends, his own life, was constantly in danger of becoming an anachronism. And caught up in that mess was Mearth, not exactly evil in nature but just misunderstood. A very long time ago Alecto’s life had been all incandescent sparkles and Kodachrome, but that was before the environmental movement changed Mearth from a perfectly nice and kind guardian, to a deranged and malevolent monster.
She asked him, to name the monster that he is most afraid of always and looked into his eyes in silence. 'I see him every time whenever I stare into your eyes.' he replied.
I don't believe in monsters." "Well, Red, I think you might want to start." Pike turned and looked him in the eye. "What do you think those green things were? And what do you think is trying to smash its way in here? A pony?
But what is a dream, Conor O'Malley? the monster said, bending down so it's face was close to Conor's. Who is to say that it is not everything else that is the dream?
Be the thing they all fear when they close their eyes at night.
He leaned towards me, and I did what any reasonable person would do when facing imminent death by being eaten alive. I screamed.
Eldon sat beside Tobias, eating his meal with quiet dignity – or as much as he could muster. Lydia’s younger sister Tess was sitting on a highchair across from him, holding her plate to her face and gobbling down her food as ravenously as a beast from a trough. She was wearing a lovely black dress and a matching scarf that were gathering several unfortunate stains. When she felt Eldon staring, the green girl slowly looked up and dragged her fat red tongue across her jagged yellow teeth, gravy and mashed potatoes dripping from her cheeks. “Ugh, Lydia,” complained Wynona and gestured her fingers in disdain. “Can’t you control that little gremlin?
Parents have a child, and in doing so they bring into the world a monster that kills everything it comes in contact with.
It was good to be hugged. Even by a monster.
She hopes she might convince her sea monster that she will not abandon her.
...his eyes lit up and glowed red against the dark bulk of it. A moment they remained so ... then they soared up, phosphorescently opalescent, with a predominance of red, like two sinful dead planets escaping from Hell.
I've made him a monster by overloving. Lord knows, if hatred could make him human again.
Shannon A. Thompson
Every monster could be saved.
I am afraid a monster is grown that will devour all of us. Yet we must fight him.
Listen to me,” he said, pulling off his coat. “You need to stay awake.” She almost laughed, a shallow chuckle cut short by pain. He tore the lining from the Colton jacket. “What’s so funny?” “You’re a really shitty monster, August Flynn.
I'm a little monster. Cuddling is my special attack. #cuddlemonster