Best 106 quotes in «angels and demons quotes» category

The bus rumbled away, its gleaming yellow body disappearing around a bend in the road, consumed by veiny crimson leaves that shrouded the trees like sweaters threaded with blood

The chill of the glass and the crackle of the fire were languages she could fathom and echo.

The heat didn't bother her. She knew that Hell manifested itself in different ways.

The laws of physics is the canvas God laid down on which to paint his masterpiece

The only things that got me through those years were a half dozen books I stole and through which I escaped reality time and again. I never tired of reading them, even reading them aloud to myself, until the characters between the covers became dear to me, like old friends.

The Light Angel Prince has changed his nature, challenged his own creator, but what we took so long to build, he will not destroy," he said. "Upon him we must concentrate our might. For what he has done to my golden children and my land alone, he must end. I alone will teach him what it means to defy an Archangel. When I travel, the planets know when I am near. When I turn, the stars remember.

When had things gotten so tangled in her heart and mind? Everything had been clear at one point, hadn’t it? No, she supposed it never had been perfectly clear.

The sandpaper of Greg's laugh fascinated Lexi as much as it frightened her. It was why she always thought of him as the Sandman, an interpretation not as sinister as E. T. A. Hoffman's but one that seemed to match, suddenly, in its role as a harbinger of death. Greg's voice rebounded around the building, dry and abrasive. Mirthless laughter is one of mankind's trademark noises. It's been used to mask pain for centuries.

The warbling of birds emerged from the wind-swept trees flanking the road; the swishing branches tangled together overhead like kissing tongues. Children shrieked as they hopped off school buses and raced each other home. Lawn mowers purred like great mechanical cats, delighted with their dinners of shredded grass. The road unraveled through such forested neighborhoods, the kind where families host barbecues and children still ride bikes after sunset and porches creak under the weight of seasonal decor. The kind where kidnappings are flukes and horned men are freaks of nature.

Vulnerable attempts of wanting to understand myself and the world around me drove me mad. My ego wanted to run too frequently to protect its vanity, but the angel on my shoulder, my sensitive core, suggested self-awareness to the devil.

What happens in this book is merely a journey from one evil mind to the next and what happens when the spiritual meets the natural. Let me lift the curtain as we enter the screaming terrors of the demonic and reveal what lies beneath the surface, literally speaking.

What is love, Mikayel? Isn't it the most irrational of all human emotions? And the one most forbidden?

There are few things I hate more than feeling weak. Needing help or failing top the list. The worst, however, is knowing that all three just happened.

There are some things in life that we are meant to experience. Circumstances will always shift us back to certain situations until we walk through it and learn something.”- Aimee (Marked Book #1) page 79

The vehicle screeched away. A pair of black tire-tracks scorched the asphalt in its wake, as if the ground had sprouted its own set of horns.

Time is tick, tick, ticking away. How many souls will I capture today? Will they be a challenge or will they be given? Only time will tell as the clock keeps tick, tick, ticking. Your god has arrived with enough hatred for y’all, with enough evil for the big and small, so come one, come all. I will shred your souls and place them in my satchel, call you a settler and make you my peddler. Come one, come all, come stand behind your god. I will lead you into the darkness of Earth's end. Come one, come all, my wilted flowers, come claim your title, speak out and cheer it. Come one, come all, let’s have a ball, my wilted flowers . . . Sweet, Unconquerable Spirits.

Ya hafta be there for Beck. He only has you." Riley sighed. "I'll get the car.

When your legs and arms are being torn from your body, you console yourself that you've not yet been beheaded. Of course, right? When you nerves are being extracted strand by strand and your flesh is being dried drop by drop, you simply see past the blood and the bones and think: Hey, at least they haven't torn me apart at the cellular level yet. Unnerving logic.

Young Sathian was flirtatious, titillating, quick-witted, and brilliant. He left a trail of broken hearts across the land as he teased and taunted his victims with his beauty and charm. Both women and men succumbed to his joie de vivre and panache as he was an untypical Ange’el that carried the sunshine in his smile and in his eyes.

You: Are you okay? How could I answer that truthfully? ‘I’m not really okay and I think I might be better if I could just hear the sound of your voice?’ That was a bit too much, my brain decided. Me: Yep My phone rang almost immediately. “You’re not okay,” you said. My heart nearly stopped beating at the sound of your voice. It was incredible, the effect that one particular voice had on me. It steadied me. “How can you tell?” I asked, laughing weakly. I could picture you —well, at least what I imagine of you — wondering if you should say what I somehow already knew you would. “You never say ‘yep’.” “I say it all the time.” “No,” you replied, “you don’t. You say it when you’re trying not to say whatever’s on your mind. So talk.” “I’m fine, just tired and a bit bored, I guess.” Liar, my inner voice said accusingly. You miss him and you know it.

You did well not to speak of this to others. People fear what they do not understand.

You need to know what you are before you can become what you are supposed to be. In order to know what you are now, you must learn what you are going to be.

You’re not his,” Bryan said firmly. “Bry, I don’t know whose I am anymore.

You’re all alone. No one wants you anymore. How long did you think we would all stay? You’ve killed each and every person who ever loved you. Even your children won’t want you. They will see what you have done. You must be the first ward in history to treat your guardian so badly that he left you. Do you think your mistress will stay? No. Elizabeth will take what she wanted and then she will leave you too.

You still do that thing, you know,” she said. “What thing?” He raised an eyebrow. Miranda smiled. “That thing where you say what I’m thinking. That thing.” “Oh,” Bryan began, “I suppose it comes from years of having to read your mind to figure out what was going on in there.” He folded his arms across his chest. “Your turn.

You sound skeptical," kohler said. "I thought you were a religious symbologist. Do you not believe in miracles?" "I'm undecided on miracles," Langdon said. Particularly those that take place in science labs. "Perhaps miracle is the wrong word. I was simply trying to speak your language" "My language?" Langdon was suddenly uncomfortable. "Not to disappoint you, sir, but study religious symbology-I'm a academic, not a priest." Kohler slowed suddenly and turned, his gaze softening a bit. "Of course. How simple of me. One does not need to have cancer to analyse it's symptoms.

…In the end we are all just searching for truth, that which is greater than ourselves.

Death is only a byproduct of terrorism.

Religion has always persecuted science.

Nothing captures human interest more than human tragedy.

Religion is flawed, but only because man is flawed.

Always have a plan, but be prepared to change it at any given moment.

Actions have reactions, nonetheless. People rarely show up at Hell's doorstep clutching a map of bad intentions.

A hand in mine.. hot. Breath on my neck... sweet. The feel of lips on my own... forbidden.

Aimee turned and walked out, giving him a wink and a smile, careful not to part her lips. His reaction to her fangs, as amusing as it may be, would hurt her chances of blending in.” – Aimee (Marked Book #1) page 215

Angels are good not simply because they see bad as bad, but also because they see bad as corny.

Angels were sent to protect. To interfere when necessary, but never to intrude, or encroach on one's free will. The people would have a different mission. One of proactivity. One of protection. The idea that: could the actions of evil be prevented? ...But there were those in the Human population that not only chose not to believe in the presence of angels, but also chose not to believe in the existence of evil." - #WarAngel (2016)

Do You Believe?

Both of you are threads in a carefully woven masterpiece of a blanket that is life. Parts of you are weaved into parts of him. There's no changing that.

Dear Sir, I'll gie ye some advice, You'll tak it no uncivil: You shouldna paint at angels, man, But try and paint the Devil. To paint an angel's kittle wark, Wi' Nick there's little danger; You'll easy draw a lang-kent face, But no sae weel a stranger.

Death walks among us

Do you remember bedtime as a child? I was terrified of the dark. I was terrified of the closed closet door that surely cracked open when I wasn't looking and spewed out ghouls and devils. I took care that no arms or legs protruded from the bed. I sometimes slept with the covers over my head. Sweltering, panting, barely breathing. Not even my hair exposed, lest a monster discover and devour me. I remember begging my father to check under the bed. I remember trying to explain how some monsters had invisibility cloaks. He would kiss my cheek and switch off the light. We stop looking under the bed once we realize that the monsters are inside us. It's funny how they transform. Suddenly they don't mind daylight. Suddenly they dress nicely, speak our language, and share our customs. They sit next to us on the metro and jog around our neighborhoods. They slip things into our drinks at parties and offer us jobs. Sometimes we spot them, sometimes we don't. Sometimes we even do the unthinkable: we invite them to our bed. As adults, we burn down the sanctuaries we created as children. Our inner child freaks out, but its screams are drowned by our moans as our monsters bring us to orgasm.

A pang of deep longing ripples through me. I’m torn between my promise to send Aydan to the Abyss and my need to keep him safe. The opposing forces fragment what remains of my mind, breaking me down once again.

As long as you're still walking with the demons of hell! You'll never have the time to slow down to see the angels of heaven behind you.

Beeswax, with its subtle undertones of smoke and honey. The smell of ink on wet paper, the sickly-sweet smell of decay. The sweat of clean bodies, the scent of burnt gloves. She loved the crackle of the fire and the clang of the tools. She loved the magic of sweat-streaked alchemists who blew down metal pipes and created bubbles within molten glass. She loved the flawless final chapter, the glistening undulations as smooth as ice.

Before her parents were killed, Lena hadn't minded school. She had even liked some of her classes. Now school was just watching the clock tick.

Between death and hell a bridge shining silver wings offers his soul hope.

Death was a living creature. Death was a man tormented by his past. Death was once a human.

Dreaming is what you do when your eyes are closed...living is what you do with that dream once you open your eyes!

Everything made sense in a book...Too bad her life wasn’t fiction.