Best 3417 quotes in «blood quotes» category

To the pure blood of the grape!

To weaken the body, remove blood. To weaken the character, remove struggle.

True brothers are never blood-related. But born of the spirit.

Tuoni takes her by the shoulders and turns her to face him. “Remember this Anya. Dreams have power; they show old truths you are too blind to see on waking. They make you remember memories that are lost in the blood flowing through your veins. Remember her magic. Remember what she did when you wake,” he says before he pushes her off the cliff.

Ugh," he said after a few swallows. "Dead blood." Jace's eyebrows went up. " Isn't all blood dead?" "The longer the animal whose blood I'm drinking has been dead, the worse the blood tastes," Simon explained. "Fresh is better." "But you've never drunk fresh blood. Have you?" Simon raised his own eyebrows in response. "Well, aside from mine, of course," Jace said. "And I'm sure my blood is fan-tastic.

Ukiua mtu damu yake itakusuta maisha yako yote! Itaongea na wewe ikikulaumu milele!

Unbidden, a growl escaped him just as his lips brushed that heavenly skin and with one bite he pierced right through it. When her blood hit his tongue, he shook. It was nectar, hot and wild and sweet, like the fiery kiss of a demon. His fingers twisted up into the glossy knot of hair at her nape, pulling it free, wrapping his fist in that silky skein. Forcing her up as his mouth came down harder, his fangs sliding deeper. Rissa made a soft sound; whether of pleasure, encouragement or pain, it didn't matter. Nothing fucking mattered.

Use your blood to paint. Keep painting until you faint. Keep painting until you die.

Vampires are harmless. All they want is your blood.

Uwezekano wa watoto wa ukoo mmoja kuoana ni mkubwa kwa sababu damu ina nguvu ya uvutano. Kuhakikisha kwamba familia zinafahamiana na kushirikiana katika mambo mbalimbali ni jukumu la wazazi.

We all need to play in our part in this

We are inheritors of progress, of a technological rebirth that had only ever been imagined before now. We don’t talk about it, but at some point, it became clear to me: I am the child of a bookless age.

What is blood but the wine of life?

When you feel weak in spirit, think about the agreements you made with yourself about how to live an honourable life. We all have them, but unfortunately the contracts are often written in invisible ink when they should be signed in blood.

Where there is no water there is no blood

Whether this blood was daemon, human, or something else, it was still only blood, and blood was only the ink of life.

With heightened senses it remained motionless and looked through bulbous eyes. It could taste fear in the air. Pheromones. Sweat. Food was near, but more importantly, so was its new home.

Writers should cut as close to the vein as possible. The readers don't want to be covered in your warm sticky blood, but they want to come as close to it as possible.

Yo no tengo hijos. No tengo mujer. Soy un traidor a mi gente, un renegado y ladrón desertor. No soy siquiera honrado. Mi corazón he escogido la venganza, la sangre. El rojo. Sólo soy un vengador. No necesito nada más. Solo sangre, solo espada.

You are still the colour of my blood. You are my blood. When I look in the mirror it’s not my own face I see. Your body is twice. Once you once me. Can I be sure which is which?

You crushed us to build your monarchy on the backs of our blood and bone. Your mistake wasn't keeping us alive. it was thinking we'd never fight back

You don't have to go back to the way things were. Just go back to the point where you left off. Don't start over... just keep going, but there's a right way of keeping going. And no one here is going to be angry at you for leaving. We all have to leave sometimes. And some of us never come back. But there's always a choice, even if you've already decided never to return. You can still come back from this. That is the only kind of faith that matters. Not in the world, not in...God..., not in our friendship... just in yourself.

You know a bomb crater can be made into a swimming hole. You have learned dark blood is better news than bright.

You're only hurting yourself. Besides, the citizens like blood, don't they? They smell it.

Your family, your real family, will always welcome you home with open arms. Anyone who says you can lose their love isn't really family, no matter what blood says.

To the loyal and to the blood-lovers, in the good families and in the fiery dynasties, life is family and family is life. It is the same people who give advice and their vices to live well who turn out to be the ones who give resource and reason to live long.

Transparent tubes divided Phil’s blood into shades of red, fading to straw colored plasma. I watched his fluid swirl past his shoulders and disappear into machines. He offered himself to blood banks all over the city, his plasma rushed to hospitals where it would circulate through other people’s bodies. The map of my love’s tapped arteries would look like a bloodshot eye over the city of Albuquerque. His blood bought us dinner. I dreamed he was my mother, and I nursed his arm. I wrote a poem about it, how I suckled his arm dry like a sore teat.

wars are fought so that peace can be achieved talk about irony

We are living a life full of first experiences, from a first kiss, to the first time giving blood, to conceptual and philosophical explanations of humanity’s firsts.

We do not know the worth of one single drop of blood, one single tear.

We need to eliminate the concept of division by class, skills, race, income, religion, and nationality. Every human requires food and water to survive and every human has a heart that bleeds, loves, and grieves.

What lies beneath this envelope of flesh and blood, hmm? Is it something special? Perhaps, when I peel it open, I will be able to see. Perhaps your screams will tell me everything I need to know.

What stung were the tears that dripped unbidden into the ruptured skin. They were salty, a familiar taste of distilled sorrow. When they mixed with blood, they created a potion for grief, that when swallowed, could drown her in a morass of darkness from which it would take her days to emerge.

What’s with savage humans always wanting to cannibalize us?” Jaden asks as she runs past Summer to check for any more of the Tainted around the corner. “They want to suck your blood,” Rob says in a Romanian accent. Jaden snorts. Too bad humor won’t help them out of this mess.

What will I taste like?" I asked. He inhaled deeply at the base of my throat. "Sweet and pure," he answered, "like white lilacs.

When I first studied the photographs I could not tell what she looked like or even the color of her hair. All I saw was red.

When I sleep the walls move closer. When I dream the walls turn to blood.

When it comes to family be careful not to let blood get in your eyes. It burns and blinds.

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 I worked on the 13,796 feet very high altitude summit of Mauna Kea we were advised to only use the medical oxygen after the daily headaches appeared and that just 15 minutes use was all that was needed to clear up the headaches for a while before we would need it again. We were not advised to use medical oxygen continuously as the Federal Aviation Regulations advises pilots to do. We were not advised to use pulse oximeters to monitor our blood oxygen levels or that the company medical oxygen should have been routinely administered only with our doctors prescription.

When Jesus said “Whoever eats my flesh & drinks my blood has eternal life” John 6:54 He was CLEARLY talking to Zombies & Vampires

where does it derive its strength? is it the blood soaked soil? or the fear stained heart?

Where got she her sullen mouth And where her swaying form? Would she live on eggs and apples When the blood of men is warm? (“The Young Witch”)

Why is it that blood, rather than peace, sells?

Why should I give up revenge? On behalf of what? Moral principles? And what of the higher order of things, in which evil deeds are punished? For you, a philosopher and ethicist, an act of revenge is bad, disgraceful, unethical and illegal. But I ask: where is the punishment for evil? Who has it and grants access? The Gods, in which you do not believe? The great demiurge-creator, which you decided to replace the gods with? Or maybe the law? [...] I know what evil is afraid of. Not your ethics, Vysogota, not your preaching or moral treaties on the life of dignity. Evil is afraid of pain, mutilation, suffering and at the end of the day, death! The dog howls when it is badly wounded! Writhing on the ground and growls, watching the blood flow from its veins and arteries, seeing the bone that sticks out from a stump, watching its guts escape its open belly, feeling the cold as death is about to take them. Then and only then will evil begin to beg, 'Have mercy! I regret my sins! I'll be good, I swear! Just save me, do not let me waste away!'. Yes, hermit. That is the way to fight evil! When evil wants to harm you, inflict pain - anticipate them, it's best if evil does not expect it. But if you fail to prevent evil, if you have been hurt by evil, then avenge him! It is best when they have already forgotten, when they feel safe. Then pay them in double. In triple. An eye for an eye? No! Both eyes for an eye! A tooth for a tooth? No! All their teeth for a tooth! Repay evil! Make it wail in pain, howling until their eyes pop from their sockets. And then, you can look under your feet and boldly declare that what is there cannot endanger anyone, cannot hurt anyone. How can someone be a danger, when they have no eyes? How can someone hurt when they have no hands? They can only wait until they bleed to death.

Widening blood puddles spilled from suffocating death wounds.

Winning!

With bones of ships and soldiers at her feet. With blood on her hands and nothing inside.

With the blood dripping from her lips, with her blood spattered white dress, and with her pale skin, she is just a horrifyingly lovely and a breathtakingly attractive sixteen-year-old girl living in Hell. Nothing wrong with that, right?

...ya can't get to Nevada on five bucks and a bad heart...