Best 106 quotes in «angels and demons quotes» category

I give you comfort. I give you peace. I give you joy. I give you hope. I give you life.” Jesus kept talking to her. “I give you strength. I give you love. I give you power. I give you Me.” Jennifer started jumping up and down and hugging Jesus.

I met a boy. And when he smiled, my life began.

I have decided to change something. I am thinking I may want to go by Aimee again.”- Aimee (Marked Book #1) page 102

Is it wrong to protect your heart?”- Marc (Marked Book #1) page 130

It's true; most souls come here in whatever clothing they died in, truly unfortunate for the people who died naked. Of course, it's really worse for us than them. Most people don't look good without their clothes,...

I think it would have to be the way that my sister looks at you when you can’t see it.” “Yeah? And how’s that?” he asked, very interested in the answer. “Oh, you know,” she said coolly, “like you’re the air she needs to breathe.

I’ve given up already in life but something or someone keep pushing me to keep going.

I would have done better to cherish my good memories. I know that you were trying to protect me, and I admire you for that. I wish now that I had let you.”- Aimee (Marked Book #1) page 288

Lexi was older now than she'd been in kindergarten. Her brain functioned with more logic and less emotion. Gabriel knew it would be harder this time. Now Lexi had to make sense of things before she believed in them.

I’m not trying to fix you. I don’t think you’re broken.”- Damian (Marked Book #1) page 266

It was a fleeting feeling, one there and suddenly gone, like a dove shattered to pieces during a magician's disappearing act.

I want to believe," he heard himself say. Victoria's reply carried no judgement or challenge. "So why don't you?" He chuckled. "Well, it's not that easy. Having faith requires leaps of faith, cerebral acceptance of miracles, immaculate conceptions an divine interventions

Love. It was the only explanation. That was what love did to you. It wormed its way inside you and leeched you of your courage. It made you weak, reliant on other people's opinions and expectations. It paralyzed you.

Modern infatuation with angels is based on imagery that is far removed from Psalm 103’s depiction of angels as 'mighty ones who do his bidding.' With the loss of knowledge and respect for scriptures has come a greatly demeaned understanding of spiritual realities, especially those concerned with supernatural occurrences.

Kohler shrugged. "Sometimes to find truth, one must move mountains.

Like a porcelain facade, her outer shell was breaking away.

No matter how much we might wish it, there is no way to build a lock that only angels can open and demons cannot. Anyone who tells you otherwise is either ignorant of the mathematics or less of an angel than they appear.

Miranda waited. No voice spoke. No heavenly choir broke out in song. God Himself did not call her name. She frowned. Typical.

Not all people are 'people', some are more and some are less. But only those who listen intently with their hearts will recognise them for what they are.

No one had fought back. His friends had not retaliated and morphed into monsters. They had fallen like flies. Perhaps such evil did not lurk in the others. Perhaps he's been wrong. The thought came to him suddenly, stopping his heart as if he'd been yanked from the dance hall and flung countries and time-zones away only to crash into arctic waters. It marked the end of something, as revelations often do. He was the monsters.

Once upon a time, the world was quintessentially human. People took pride in normalcy; they preferred things in black and white, for salt and pepper are easier to digest than gray matter. When things were disagreeable or different, they liked to label them "otherworldly." It relieved them of accountability. "The Devil made me do it," they preferred to say. But when they looked in the mirror, they didn't notice the Devil looking back. Not at first.

Peace, so Miss Sanders could grapple with her demons. Quiet, so she could almost hear the Hellfire crackling beneath the crust of the carpeted schoolroom.

One-winged angels, she thought. Perhaps that is what love makes us. To fly, we have to embrace each other.

One of my earliest memories was of a maze of pale green walls. The corridors never ended, no matter which way I turned. I was running, my feet bare, my paper-thin gown flapping around skinny foal-like legs, and the demons kept on coming. I’d run the maze before, because I always knew which way to turn to find the little clear plastic box. I’d run, and run. Lungs aching, throat burning, my feet slapping against the smooth floor, and the sound of scrabbling claws chased me down. I made it to the box, every time (I’d learned later, there were others who hadn’t) and once inside, I’d yank the clear door closed. The demons didn’t see the box. They saw only me, the wraith-like little half-blood girl. They would launch themselves—claws extended, jaws wide, eyes ablaze—and slam into my box, sending shudders rattling through my bones. They’d snap and snarl, hook their teeth into the box and gnaw at its edges, desperate to get to the feast huddling a few millimeters away. Flooding, the Institute had called it. At first I was afraid, and I learned how to run. Then I was angry, and I learned how to fight with my fists and my element. Then, I got even. I lured those demons into a corner and ambushed them, killing every last one. After countless visits to the maze, after weeks, years, I’d started liking it, and killing became as natural as breathing. It was what I was good at. What I was made for. What I lived for. © Copyright Pippa DaCosta 2016.

People are not totally good or bad, black or white - unless we are talking of evil psychos. We, human beings, are somewhere between angels and demons. That is what makes us, human beings, lovely imperfect.

Science itself caused half the problems it was trying to solve. "Progress" was Mother Earth's ultimate malignancy.

She had gone through the veil and returned to Earth. But the veil only opens one way.

She smiles and snuggles into me as we wait for our table. I inhale her scent. Vanilla and something else. Something different. Smokey almost. Sexy. It drives me crazy with need and I have to move away while I can.

She bit her lip, forcing the truth deeper inside until it caved her. She hunched over like a woman protecting her illegitimate unborn child. She brandished forks and knives and set them on the table, each fork crossed over each knife like a coat of arms, a pattern of X's.

She could hear the voice of her childhood, could see a younger version of herself plucking petals off a flower. He loves me; he loves me not. (She) left the petals alone, not ready to hear the answer. The fragrance of the flowers danced around her; and in her mind, or memory, or both, she could hear a song. She closed her eyes, allowing herself to be transported there. He stood in a black suit looking painfully handsome; she wore a green dress wishing he would see her…really see her. It was easy and comfortable. They swayed slowly, lost in the melody, the moment. His hand on her waist, her hand on his shoulder, their fingers clasped tightly together. He loves me; he loves me not.

Some Ange'el are a bit more powerful. Each one has their own set of capabilities and level of skill depending on the purity of their genes and their age. Some Ange'el can heal ya. Some can convince ya to do their will. Some know what you're thinking. Some can speak to you using only their minds, and Viviane ... well, Viviane can do it all.

So,” Lauren said. “You help ghosts with unfulfilled wishes cross over to the astral plane for judgment.” “Yes.” “And you hunt demons.” “Yes.” “And you’re married to an angel.” “Yes.” She paused. “…so basically, you’re Dean Winchester.” I made an exasperated sound. “I am NOT.” She smirked. “Yeah, sure.

So you are vampire then, my beauty?”- Damian (Marked Book #1) page 160

She was lucky enough to know little enough to fear nothing more than wasps, the dark, and the darker figments of her imagination.

Thaddeus noticed the archangels had their own personal rooms with name tags showing which office belongs to whom. Gabriel. Michael. Charles. Lucifer. “Lucifer?” Thaddeus stopped. “Yea. It’s empty. Been empty for years.” “Why didn’t doesn’t God use it for something else?” Thaddeus had to know. “I don’t know. Maybe He wanted to keep it as a reminder or something. Maybe He’s hoping His old friend will come back home. I’m not sure,” Jesus answered with a sad look on His face.

That was the funny thing. What happened to John would pass for his classmates, but for John it was a long challenging road ahead of him. Who knew where he would be sent, maybe a juvenile detention center? He might keep in touch with a few friends if his parents let him, but he would never return to Wakefield High. His peers had no clue the journey ahead of him, that his life was changed forever. And they had no idea what lay ahead for Lilly. No one knew she had been given a task by the Archangels to fight a war against pure evil. They had no idea that Lilly would spend most of her free time not training for a marathon, but training to kill demons. John and Lilly were not all too different.

Something was bleeding… and something was broken. It was my heart… because I had to leave you. (Chase to Rayne)

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

Speak peace unto the world and good souls will stand.

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

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.

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

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.

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.