Best 194 quotes in «werewolf quotes» category

Werewolf change was never pleasant. That was one of the reasons pack members still referred to it as a curse, despite the fact that, in the modern age of enlightenment and free will, clavigers chose metamorphosis. The change comprised a good deal of biological rearranging. This, like rearranging one's parlor furniture for a party, involved a transition from tidy to very messy to tidy once more. And, as with any redecoration, there was a moment in the middle where it seemed impossible that everything could possibly go back together harmoniously.

Yes, the monsters were real. Are real. There are creatures in this world that exist beyond the scope of what you know and see. Remember, not all are created equal. Some are better…and worse than others…just like humans.

When you have permission from me to be the wolf, you’ll have no need for guilt as a human.

When it comes to love triangles and duels to the death, you should always cheat. - Fairy Werewolf vs. Zombie Vampire

Which side was I on? There was no time to search for answers. All I could do now was ride on a werewolf's back, toward a destiny as hidden as the dark side of the moon.

With her face tilted up to his, the subtle edge of moonlight touched along the edge of one high cheekbone, the tilted edge of one eye, and those beautiful, enticing lips. Obeying an impulse he couldn’t put into words, he lowered his head and covered her mouth with his.

Woman rescued by Yeti!’How dare they make this into a joke.

You can't be the rapist and the prince both, he thinks.

You can have a lot of fun with rhinos

You don’t have a monopoly on pain or loss. It’s a level playing field—we all lose—we all grieve. It’s what remains afterwards that defines us. Guilt is the poison we pump into our own veins. It’s self-inflicted torture.

You know, considering your IQ, you're really socially retarded sometimes.

You knew I would find you and you knew what I'd do when I did." -Cort (The Carver's Problem)

You mean run away? Wolves don't run from a fight." Rebecca Winters in Lone Wolf Rising

You tell a soul or even God Hisself what you seen when the rougarou changes , or even that you met one, and a year ain’t passed, you’re liable to change to one yourself.

You tell your brother he's gonna pay for that car in silver.

I'm a coyote shapeshifter playing in a world of werewolves and vampires---outmatched is n understatement.

Yes, Dad collared me before I was even born. Nevertheless, he made me the one in authority of the collar and myself.

I think there's an innate sexuality that is attached to vampires and werewolves. It's passionate and sexual, undeniably so.

A child conceived on Christmas Eve is considered unlucky and will later resent his parents for their unholy transgression, their lack of control and piety. The child may be deformed with a harelip or be cursed with the ears and head of a wolf. Or the infant may be born a werewolf.

The Gamma paused. “You have a crazed werewolf in your wine cellar?” “You can think of a better place to stash him?” “What about the wine?

There are a lot of other movies I've done multiple times, like Werewolf Of Washington, where I really get tired of watching it.

What do you mean?” Leslie’s voice was cool, as if she questioned witches who were flat on their backs being threatened by werewolves every day.

Ach, woman! He raked his fingers through his hair. "You want me as much as I want you." "Assuming that's true -" "It's true." "- I can't. Not now." "It's no' your time of the month. I know that." "Ew." Valkyrie didn't have periods. "You're the only one here with a monthly cycle, werewolf." - Lucia and Garreth MacRieve

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

Alexander turned slowly to appraise Maya. It had to be uncomfortable getting that treatment up close, but she didn’t seem to care. Maybe wolves were tougher than vampires – or at least more ballsy, you know, for a girl who only had metaphorical balls.

Alek rushed back into the bedroom and slammed to a halt. Lying on the bed, licking its right front leg, was a large, white wolf with a dark streak at the back of its neck. "Shitshitshitshitshitshit," he mumbled. The wolf turned and looked at him. Jo's blue eyes. Shiiit. "Nod if you can understand me," he said. Jo nodded and bared her teeth. "Was that a smile?" Another nod. "Well, don't do it again. It scared me.

Although only three legs would obey him, the white wolf began to run. Run, to outpace the agony that could rip and tear a human heart. Run, to outdistance the human grief that could not be borne. Run, to be as the moon, a swift white shape gleaming in the night. Run, to be a wolf and only a wolf. As he raced away into the welcoming arms of the night, James was only fleetingly aware that he had just buried his human self alongside Evelyn. And then he was aware of nothing.

And I realize, so suddenly that it hurts, just how empty a creature can be, while still filled to the brim with drowning agony.

And they said females were the moody ones. Yeah – right. No one did moods like Alpha male werewolves.

And what if I need something?' 'Find it yourself.' Connor tsk-ed. 'Where did all the niceties go?' 'You're not a guest. You're family. Find your own fucking towels.

Where does a werewolf sleep? Anywhere he wants to.

A piercing screech from above caught my attention. However, it was the arm landing beside me with teeth marks that let me know what was going on. “Can you be a little more careful where you let body parts fall?” - Faith, Witch Devotions

Are you sure that's Val?" "No," said Freddie. "It's Lassie in a wolf suit.

As Damiano strolled to the back platform, he returned her smile, white teeth against bronzed skin, then he dropped into the water. The man was sex on a stick. MacRieve stepped in front of her, clasping her nape, jealousy ablaze in his expression. "Eyes on the prize, woman. It's a werewolf you'll have, or none at all.

At that moment, I wished I were the wind, free to dance across her flesh, seep through her clothing, and explore the forbidden depths of her body beneath.

At the stroke of midnight in Washington, a drooling red-eyed beast with the legs of a man and a head of a giant hyena crawls out of its bedroom window in the South Wing of the White House and leaps fifty feet down to the lawn...pauses briefly to strangle the Chow watchdog, then races off into the darkness...towards the Watergate, snarling with lust, loping through the alleys behind Pennsylvania Avenue, and trying desperately to remember which one of those fore hundred identical balconies is the one outside of Martha Mitchell's apartment....Ah...Nightmares, nightmares. But I was only kidding. The President of the United States would never act that weird. At least not during football season.

At the time, it seemed to me that Jeremy was spending a lot of time with a piece of plastic pressed against his ear, talking to himself. Which was fine by me. We all have our eccentricities. Jeremy liked talking to plastic; I liked hunting and eating the rats that ventured into the motel room. Or, at least I did like hunting and eating the rats, until Jeremy caught me and promptly kiboshed that hobby. Some of us are less tolerant of eccentricities than others.

A warrior knows death is always a hair's breadth away, but he doesn't dwell on the possibility of his death when he goes into battle. A warrior just fights. He fights to protect his family, his home, his people, himself, and often, the good of man. The wolf never gives a passing thought to the possibility of his death. For the wolf, he will fight to the end if need be, solely to defend his territory. Neither of these things are necessarily a reason to enter into battle when you are already weakened. They just are what they are. They live in a warrior's heart, in a wolf's heart. And both, for me, are in my heart.

A wounded animal yet bears teeth

Back the fuck off fluffy!

Because I love you.

Being a werewolf, an alpha more so, isn't about being aggressive over others but controlling yourself, the wolf's wild virus inside my DNA, and emotions that comes with the beast.

Being with her was near impossible. But being without her… I didn’t want to think about it. -- Aren from Hunter's Moon

Brian came in heavy at that moment on his guitar, the rapid, high-pitched squeal ranging back and forth as his fingers flew along the frets. As the intro's tempo grew more rapid, Bekka heard Derek's subtle bass line as it worked its way in. After another few seconds Will came in, slow at first, but racing along to match the others' pace. When their combined efforts seemed unable to get any heavier, David jumped into the mix. As the sound got nice and heavy, Bekka began to rock back-and-forth onstage. In front of her, hundreds of metal-lovers began to jump and gyrate to their music. She matched their movements for a moment, enjoying the connection that was being made, before stepping over to the keyboard that had been set up behind her. Sliding her microphone into an attached cradle, she assumed her position and got ready. Right on cue, all the others stopped playing, throwing the auditorium into an abrupt silence. Before the crowd could react, however, Bekka's fingers began to work the keys, issuing a rhythm that was much softer and slower than what had been built up. The audience's violent thrash-dance calmed at that moment and they began to sway in response. Bekka smiled to herself. This is what she lived for.

But I can tell you the reason for me being so youthful-looking for a man a century and a half old. I’m not exactly what you’d call human. Hell, I’m not human at all. The closest thing you might be able to relate me to is what’s known as a ‘werewolf’, but not the kind you see in picture shows that sprout hair and teeth every time there’s a full moon. The truth of my kind is a lot more complicated—and frightening—than that.

What would a racist call werewolves? Wargs? She kind of liked that one, but suspected that racist bastards didn't read Tolkien.

What would I do without the moral compass of a teenage werewolf.

By the time she yanked on her old jeans and a battered plaid flannel shirt, she felt almost normal. Calm, as she plugged in the coffee pot. But the nightmare was still very much on her mind, because it wasn’t a dream… It was a memory.

But there was something different about Flynn, and it wasn't just the way he was looking at her. His grip tightened on her wrist--not painfully, but possessively. His other arm went up as he leaned against the shelving, effectively boxing her in with his body without making any further contact. To her horror, she felt herself go warm and liquid in places she shouldn't. "Let go of me." Evie whispered. His eyes were green. A bright mind-blowing green. And they were staring into hers intently, daring her to lean in closer, to taste those sinful lips...

Colby better not bring me home Bambi, or I just might want to divorce him