Best 757 quotes in «suspense quotes» category

Never trust a woman hoarding a half-eaten bag of M&M's.

Next to God, Family is the best thing.

Nobody saw what happened next, or else nobody admitted to it. A couple of people said they saw the Kid stand up, turn around quickly, and sit down again. But neither of those people was there at the time. The teacher had turned her back to the class and was writing on the board. She heard something and looked around. Gordon Ritchie was coming towards her, reaching for her, whimpering. The Kid’s pen was sticking out of Gordon’s face. The Kid had stabbed him with it, stabbed him so hard that it pierced his cheek and impaled his tongue. The teacher backed away from Gordon, trying to take in what she was seeing. Bubbles of blood were coming out of his mouth. Some of the children ran out of the room. Others screamed or cried. The Kid just sat at his desk, as though there had been no interruption to the class.

No living person could disappear like Sofia. She’d have a go-bag stashed somewhere. Money and passports and disguises, with just enough ice to evaporate.

No matter how offensive she's been to me, she continues to act as if she has some sort of God-given right to keep coming back for more favors.

No matterwhat he did to make Claire’s life better or show her he’d changed, these memories would always linger in the recesses of his mind. For the rest of his life, he’d know what he’d done. Tony hated himself for all of it—hell, he always had the end justifies the means argument, but even he didn’t believe that anymore. Not now. Not now that he knew Claire and loved Claire.

No matter which way you dice it, self-preservation is selfish.

No matter what her father wanted, no way was Clara going to partner up with Light Walker. He'd suggested a tarantula for a snack, for heaven's sake. The were never, ever, ever going to work together.

No one in Cattaraugus had much idea of what an artist’ colony might be. “Art” itself was viewed with suspicion, scorn. There was the sense, as people like my mother conveyed it, of a fraud, a hustle. “Art” was putting something over on someone, the way politicians did. “Art” was a sorry excuse for not being productive, useful. “Art” was vanity, pretension.

No se puede escribir una novela o componer una canción, no se puede acordar una adquisición o ampliar una oferta sin una completa dedicación a la tarea que se tiene entre manos.

Nothing is ‘wrong’ with me, Dan. What’s wrong with you? she said in the same eerily quiet voice, dark eyes fixated on Dan, as she breathed heavily.

Nothing to see here. I'm not the rogue operator you're gunning for.

Notice the way the dirt feels under your feet, how great the air smells, how beautiful the trees are, how calm and majestic.” He snorted, and she could tell he was fighting not to roll his eyes as he asked, “Calm as opposed to what? All the other trees that run around like headless chickens?

Not writing is never an option. This is not words of advice. It's just literally never an option!

Now, a month later, I sit, foggy, a similar state of mind, in a different seafood restaurant with a locals-know-every-secret bar, two happy hour martinis downed, fidgeting with my napkin below the lip of the table, and I barely hear Wendy ask me another question. She brought a bag of them tonight.

No wonder Thanksgiving was my favorite—you can't buy it, wrap it, or put it under a tree, and even the greeting card companies can't seem to make a buck off of it. It's just a meal, with people who you love and who love you back, no matter what.

Oh, here we go, firing questions right and left. I sort of missed that part. [Mina's most endearing trait?]

Oil and Water, Daddy calls us. At four years younger than me, Katie is only fourteen and she already has half the boys in town eating from her pretty little hand. She tells me I am too tall and too wicked looking to capture the heart of any sensible young man.

Oh my God. I didn't. I couldn't have. No. no, no. Holy Crap, I did. I just shot Jason Pierce in the chest with a taser.

Oh my," she said as though to herself. "The rumors are true, you have been kept in the dark.

Oh, God. Not again.” Not again? “Do you make a habit of driving into people’s houses?

One can only hear the chirping of birds, the quacking of ducks, and the echoes of one's mind.

One can talk good and shower down roses, but it's the receiver that has to walk through the thorns, and all its false expectations.

...[O]ne of the first things a Magnolia League debutante learns: Keep your thoughts and opinions to yourself.

One morning, as he sat at his desk, he heard the sound of a horse's hooves on the path outside his house. He stepped out on to the verandah. There, on a tall grey horse, sat Morgane. 'I've come to have my picture painted,' she said. She took off her hat and her long black hair cascaded below her shoulders. 'You said you would,' she added, before dismounting. She wore a pair of moleskin jodhpurs and a white shirt, open at the neck. Her skin was radiant from the African sun.

Only God is the Giver and Master of Creativity and imagination because they are gifts that can only come from Him Alone!

Only I was capable of saving her now, and that, as far as anyone could argue, may have made me worse than all the devils and the demons, but it also, more accurately, made me better than all the angels and gods.

Paranoia. The more you think of an imaginary problem, the more you feel as though it’s real –

Open your heart and find your Destiny

Passing him with frightening speed, I see him sailing downward with his open parachute. “It won’t open!” “Pull harder!” Looking down, I estimate that at this speed it will only be a matter of seconds before I collide with the black lava rocks below. They rigged it! is all I can think. President Volkov won. I lost. I failed Gemma. I failed Nicholas. I failed myself. All of a sudden, someone rams into me from behind and hooks his arms and legs around my body. I look back and see Cory. “You’re crazy!” I scream as we spin out of control. “I know!” He smiles like he really is, but he feeds off of this kind of insanity. “Hold on!” The ground is so close and I can see the green grass and smell the scent of it mixed with the sulfur. He helps me turn around and I lock my arms around his thick shoulders, my legs around his firm hips. We’ll die together, and he doesn’t seem to care one bit. He really is insane!

Perhaps the palms had been whispering warnings in the sultry breeze.

Professor, when people say such things after impossibility smacks them in the face, we call it denial

Please tell me about it. You have been honest with me about my appearance, and that is of great help to me. It allows me to be prepared, to keep my composure. Something must have happened within the royal family before I arrived here. You must help me understand, so I can again prepare for whatever challenges it may bring." "Dear Lady Lalak, much has happened and much has passed. You need not be troubled about such past events. . . We are still trying to recover from the Kan attack." "Yes, I am learning of the Kan attack and its aftermath. What I speak of, I believe, is more personal to Pakal. If you know, I plead to you for the truth. I can bear knowing, but I cannot bear being kept ignorant of things that will affect my future here.

Placing his suitcase on the seat next to him, he unbuttoned his suit jacket, loosened up his necktie and removed his fedora. He kept his custom eye wear on and made himself comfortable, looking more like a Wall Street accountant than the cold killer he'd become...

¡Por favor se los suplico!” gritaba. Pero el corazón de los seres humanos es más frío que el hielo de las montañas.

Postmen have a legendary aura. A ring at the doorbell may inflame a sense of expectation, suspense, secrecy, hazard or even intrigue. Ringing twice may imply a warning that trouble is on the way or an appeal to make the coast clear. Not all mailmen, though, will ring twice and await an eye-catching Lana Turner, whom they can whisper: "With my brains and your looks, we could go places.” ("The postman always rings twice")

Pulling the threadbare sheet over her shoulder, she rolled onto her side away from him. Cries, deep and gun-wrenching built in her chest, threatening to steal away what air was left in her lungs. She didn't care that Bucket Man sat a foot away, witnessing her lose what grip she had left on reality. She had nothing. Her memory was gone and she was already half dead. Her only friend was agony, and she was the daughter of a monster.

—Quería preguntártelo algún día, cuando fuera el momento adecuado, pero hemos comenzado a hablar…[…]—La miró a los ojos mientras le acariciaba la mejilla con los nudillos—. Estoy ante ti sin nada, bella, solo te entrego a mí mismo y mis sentimientos.

Que difícil era saber lo que era real y lo que no

Quick! What aisle are the douches in? I've got three bitches at the beach cottage and they all stick to high heaven."... "You do carry Massengill, don't you? That's the best brand, according to my research." "Ah..." What kind of man researches douches? A man who goes to bed with three women... "Would you mind checking your inventory in the back? I'll need more." "I'm not allowed to leave the register, but I'll be happy to page our stock boy." Douche-man grunted and flipped the package around. "It's gonna take at least two boxes for Loa. She's big. Got wide hips. Skinny legs, though. Kinda like a twenty-gallon tank on toothpicks.

Quote taken from Chapter 1: That's the idea. Listen, Frank, this one is different. She's a keeper." He let that part gel in me. "Get your head screwed on straight and move to Richmond. You hate it living in Pelham.

Rage and despair shook her for minutes or hours. She was unaware of the passage of time. Finally spent, she retreated inward and collapsed onto the floor in a fetal position, the letter in shreds around her. The room had grown dark. Like a gentle snowfall, the cold mantle of an unbearable silence descended.

Read my book and you shall know thee

Random line from BURNING DARKNESS: Fonda Raine stepped out of the back end of a month in hell a hardened warrior, ready to undertake the most important task of her life: kill Eric Aruda.

Reacher was the kind of guy who solved all problems as permanently as possible.

Random lines, Beyond the Darkness: "Playing 'tag, you're it' against a car is a bad idea.

Regarding both Misty and myself he was egotistical, rude, obnoxious, condescending, insensitive, and mean-spirited⎯and those are his good qualities.

Red glowing eyes... No one could see her. No one could hear her. No one was coming to save her. Because Death had come sooner than expected.

Recuerda lo que valga la pena recordar. Ignora el resto.

Rene Caron takes my breath away!