Best 20 quotes of Cedric Nye on MyQuotes

All you have to do is tell me where the girl with the pointed ears is being held, and you walk free. She was taken yesterday near the Boneyard, and I know you know where she is. Tell me, and you walk.” The man licked his lips, and replied, “And if I don’t tell you?” “I will burn you alive right here, go take another member of your gang, and make him the same offer while he sits chained next to your smoldering remains.

Grendel left the Boneyard for the first time in a thousand years, and the world trembled at his coming. The ground rumbled and shook as he shouted ancient spells of steel and stone to strengthen him for battle as he raced ever faster toward the arena where his king had gone to battle all alone. His massive legs pumped like pistons as they drove his feet against the street, and the people living along the road felt the cold fingers of fear tickle their spines and turn their bowels to water when they looked out to see what was making the noise.

He had no illusions about surviving the battle, or any real conscious thought about the battle at all. Logic and rational thought had been shed like a killer's false smile, and all that remained was death.

If you can cut the head off of this broom-goober with that sword, then I'll believe you can gank zombies with it.

I have to get stronger, harder, and faster. The only way to get hard enough to walk the Apocalypse Road is in the crucible of battle.

I'm a man born to blood and pain, and peace would be a killing blow for me.

I once fed a dog-fight operator to the dogs he had abused for so long, and do you want to know something? It felt so good. It was justice, girl. The fucking law never gave a shit about a victim, but justice is all heart.

I promise not to hurt you, unless you try to take my shit. Then I'll twist your head off and hide it in a bush somewhere.

Nothing good is free, and nothing free is good. You want the world to change, you have to force that change behind gun smoke and lead. Blood is the price, always and ever, if you want to buy freedom.

She watched as the dancing lights of madness swirled and flickered in his eyes like the fires of hell, and she knew that there would never be anything that could quench those fires except death. Vanessa knew that Jango had become his own Grim Reaper.

Sometimes you have to do something ugly so that something beautiful can grow.

Spittle flew from Jango’s lips as he shouted at the man in a woman’s voice that sounded like it was made of cyanide and sugar that had been laced with the patter of blood dripping on an abattoir floor, “This is the truth about The Killer, ain’t it baby? You’re just a big ol’ bag of screams under all that big, bad muscle, ain’t you?

The final entity was the beast. The steel juggernaut that raked claws made of screams along the bones of their soul.All of the pain that Jango had endured as a child had never left his mind. That pain had created a sort of primordial ooze in his fractured mind that sloshed and bled until the beast was birthed from the suffering. The beast lived in a cage forged of willpower deep in the recesses of the mad matrix of his splintered mind. It rattled the cage and roared for release, but he was loath to ever set the beast loose…again.

The nurse snorted, and said. “All men are pigs.” “Not all men.” Jango said. “Some of the men are zombies.

Unbidden, tears fell from the man’s eyes, and a low keening whine escaped his throat. The big man, whose name was Geralt, despised himself for the fear he felt, and he knew that he would tell the terrible child anything he wanted to know. Geralt’s magical ability was intuitive in nature. He could look at a person, and see their truth. When he looked at the boy he saw razed cities, sundered limbs, and broken bones. He saw vengeance made flesh, come to reap the bitter harvest the Chickenhawk gang had sown.

When it's my time, and the reaper calls my name, there will be no stink of fear on me, and my only wish will be to die with grace, covered in the blood of my enemies.

When she had died, his anchor was gone and the world had burned from his untethered insanity.

You are here to pay a debt of blood and pain, sir.” Domn answered. “You both are here for your crimes against children, and your savaged remains will bear mute testimony to the punishment for such behavior. Your screams will be music to the ears of those who have lost children to you and those like you, and be a reminder that Boneyard justice is not just a concept, but a reality.

You aren’t really going to let me go, are you?” The man asked resignedly. Shaking his head, the boy replied, “No. You preyed on children, sir. I can feel the darkness of your soul. You will never change. You are a stain on any world in which you reside, and I will not abide you in my reality.” With those words, the boy reached out, took the man’s head in his small but powerful hands, and twisted savagely. The man’s neck broke like a rotten twig, and his lifeless body slumped to the floor, arms still bound to the column behind him.

You take all of our pain, you are the spine. You are the blood soaked rag that holds closed the wounds in our soul.