Best 960 quotes in «revenge quotes» category

This war's not over! Not by a long shot! --Enoch

This tottered ensign of my ancestors Which swept the desert shore of that dead sea Whereof we got the name of Mortimer, Will I advance upon these castle-walls. Drums, strike alarum, raise them from their sport, And sing aloud the knell of Gaveston!

This whole, crazy fucking business can be reduced to one little word, one word explains it all. I'm going to give you the benefit of my experience and share that word with you, buck. It's revenge.... Them studio execs, agents, producers, they're all sweaty, unpopular, bitter little fucks, and now it's their turn. They get to make all of us golden boys and girls jump through hoops. They decide who's popular and who isn't, who's pretty and who isn't, who gets their phone calls returned and who doesn't. They make us grovel, submit, suck up to them. They're getting back at us, man. It means more to them than the money, the fame, the glamor, having power over guys like me.... It's what they live for.

Those we murder with our mouths often live longest

Those wars are unjust which are undertaken without provocation. For only a war waged for revenge or defense can be just.

Those who hurt, Screw up, if you are lucky Demons will let you watch.

Those who kill snakes get killed by snakes, said Chuchundra, more sorrowfully than ever.

Those who make hostility a daily manner are often left in the lurch at difficult times.

Those who mock at your letting go are those who respect your revenge.

Thou calledst me a dog before thou hadst a cause, But since I am a dog, beware my fangs.

Thousands of soldiers, ink barely dry on discharge papers, begged in vain to start a new campaign of revenge.

Thus the aristocracy took their revenge by singing lampoons on their new master, and whispering in his ears sinister prophecies of coming catastrophe. In this way arose feudal Socialism; half lamentation, half lampoon; half echo of the past, half menace of the future, at times by its bitter, witty and incisive criticism, striking the bourgeoisie to the very heart's core, but always ludicrous in its effects, through total incapacity to comprehend the march of modern history.

Time collapsed into a delicate dark pencil brushed against our eyebrows, the emergent rumble of crowds gathering above our heads. We slid into our costumes. Pirate, outlaw, futuristic rebels. Red, purple, gold. Chains hanging from our belts, tight black trousers. We were moved upstairs, closer to the stage. Finally, we heard the cannon's roar: Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome... Tanzar recording artists... THE MASTER PLANETS!" The world shot forward. We stepped into the spotlight.

Time is conscience of the universe.

Time, it would take, but he would reach the merpeople and destroy every civilization beneath the surface of the waves.

To annoy or piss off are light offences. I'd say if you abuse the goodness of a novelist or a writer, the truth is, he or she can kill you multiple times or cannibalise you in many antagonist characters.

To carry a secret is to play with fire. Try to pass it on and you'd risk hurting someone else. Hold on to it and eventually you'd get burned.

To forgive someone means to let him off the hook, or to cancel a debt he owes you. When you refuse to forgive someone, you still want something from that person, and even if it is revenge you want, it keeps you tied to him forever.

Tom Chaney would pay for this! I would not rest easy until that Louisiana cur was roasting and screaming in hell!

To hell, allegiance! Vows, to the blackest devil! Conscience and grace, to the profoundest pit! I dare damnation

Truth is a battle of perceptions. People only see what they're prepared to confront. It's not what you look at that matters, but what you see. And when then different perceptions battle against one another, the truth has a way of getting lost. And the monsters find a way of getting out.

To successfully create illusion, the first thing you need is trust, but to perfect an illusion, the false reality most appear as authentic as the one it hides. Careful attention must be paid to every detail. The slightest of imperfections can, like a pin to a balloon, burst the illusion . . . and the truth behind the illusion becomes revealed.

True baptism allows us to reframe, and contain, the reality of evil, without needing to blame anyone else, without any need for shame or vengeance. We are all in this together, and our common wound shows itself in different ways.

To see an enemy humiliated gives a certain contentment, but this is jejune compared with the highly blent satisfaction of seeing him humiliated by your benevolent action of concession on his behalf. That is a sort of revenge which falls into the scale of virtue [...]

Truth be told, are you ready to defend yourself?

Tú mataste a mi hermano, Gryal, por ti he cruzado ríos y montañas. ¡Por ti he matado! ¿Y ahora te muestras ante mí con esa cara de idiota?

Usilaumu, usilipize kisasi, usilaani, usihukumu, wala usitoe adhabu, lakini kuwa makini sana na maamuzi yako.

Two things you should never do in a hurry: make up and revenge.

Usually we're on the same page. Other times I'm in a whole other book" ~ Arika Wolly

Vae Victus -- suffering to the conquered. Ironic that now I was the one suffering. Not anything as pedestrian as physical pain. Rather the cruel jab of impotent anger -- the hunger for revenge. I didn't care if I was in Heaven or Hell -- all I wanted was to kill my assassins. Sometimes you get what you wish for. The Necromancer Mortanius offered me a chance for vengeance. And like a fool, I jumped at his offer without considering the cost. Nothing is free, not even revenge.

Vengeance is a delicious fruit, which must be allowed to ripen in order that it may be fully enjoyed.

Vengeance is pointless, but certain men did not have a place in the world we sought to construct

Vengeance is a way of clinging to what we have lost. A wedge in the Last Door, and through the crack we can still glimpse the faces of the dead. We strain towards it with all our being, break every rule to have it, but when we clutch it, there is nothing there. Only grief.

¿Vengarme? ¿Venganza? Yo ya tomé la mía. Corté las cabezas de los bandidos que acabaron con mi familia. Las clavé en tres estacas y las miré durante días y días. Y en elvacío y la soledad, la venganza me supo a poco, a nada, a sangreen las manos.

Vendetta is the word, except it isn't strong enough.

Vengeance is pointless, but certain men do not have a place in the world we sought to construct

Vengeance in bloom shone in her eyes and smiled on her lips.

Villain Foulon taken, my sister! Old Foulon taken, my mother! Miscreant Foulon taken, my daughter! Then, a score of others ran into the midst of these, beating their breasts, tearing their hair, and screaming, Foulon alive! Foulon who told the starving people they might eat grass! Foulon who told my old father that he might eat grass, when I had no bread to give him! Foulon who told my baby it might suck grass, when these breasts were dry with want! O mother of God, this Foulon! O Heaven our suffering! Hear me, my dead baby and my withered father: I swear on my knees, on these stones, to avenge you on Foulon! Husbands, and brothers, and young men, Give us the blood of Foulon, Give us the head of Foulon, Give us the heart of Foulon, Give us the body and soul of Foulon, Rend Foulon to pieces, and dig him into the ground, that grass may grow from him!

We all have secrets we keep locked away from the rest of the world... Friendships we pretend... Relationships we hide... But worst of all... Love we never let show. The most dangerous secrets a person can bury are those we keep from ourselves

Wanna know what a bullet feels like, Warren? A real one? It’s not like in the comics…I think you need to. Feel it…It’s not going to make a neat little hole. First - it’ll obliterate your internal organs. Your lung will collapse, feels like drowning…When it finally hits your spine, it’ll blow your central nervous system-…I’m talking. The pain will be unbearable, but you won’t be able to move… A bullet usually travels faster than this, of course. But the dying? It seems like it takes forever. Something, isn’t it? One tiny piece of metal destroys everything. It ripped her insides out… It took her light away. From me. From the world… And now the one person who should be here is gone - and a waste like you gets to live. A tiny piece of metal. Can you feel it now?

Was he seeking shelter from death? Malcolm could not have that.

War that is waged for power or dominion over other human beings obscures the inevitable truth that we are all members of one family, and no matter who has conquered whom, who now resents whom, who holds bitterness against whom, the only way we can have true peace is to set aside our injuries and our dedication to revenge and accept our equal divinity.

We are born. We die. Somewhere in between we live. And how we live is up to us. That’s it.

We are way less likely to love someone just because they love us than we are to hate someone just because they hate us.

We're fighting for unhappiness?" Noah asked skeptically. "It sounds a bit crazy when you put it that way." Nijinsky laughed, delighted. "Oh, it is." Then, serious again, he said, "We fight for the right to be what we choose,to feel what we choose. Even if what we choose seems crazy to others." "If it's all the same to you, I'll fight for revenge," Sadie said. Nijinsky's eyes glittered. "Oh, yes. That's fine with me.

Wendy is still dead. I hadn't understood before: it really doesn't bring them back. Somehow, you think, despite what you know, it will be a trade. Find the person who did the wrong thing and they will suffer instead of the one who was killed. Instead, that person just suffers too.

What does it mean to be grounded? It means no unkind being is taking up space rent free in your body. It also means you love deeply without need for revenge. It means digging beneath the machine mind to understand and see the beauty in each human being.

We soon fall asleep in each other’s arms, knowing to myself that I captured her, like a prisoner in a cage.

We speak in hushed voices, so as not to wake our memories, the things we've done, the things we'll continue to do, for fear of breaking the cycle, how fierce we were when we were young, when we were unafraid of coming unhinged.

We try to do right, and we ... we ... they gang up on us, fear and pain and revenge and ... and then we find we’ve done wrong.