Best 696 quotes in «vampire quotes» category

WHAT ARE YOU, NUTS? THE MAN'S A VAMPIRE! Yeah, but he's a really, REALLY sexy one.

Whether you're a vampire or werewolf, love is still love. Betrayal is still betrayal.

Whom would you like to put throught a table next? The entire cast of New Moon. They're trying to portray vampires, but they look like a bunch of sissy models.

You do that, and I take back every nasty thing I've ever said about you." He grinned, his mood changing from serious to wicked in an instant. "Why? I'm all those things and more." I shook my head. Ian was more proud of his depravity than anyone I'd met, but if he helped me pull Bones out from under four bespelled vampires and one demonically-enchanced vamp, I'd shower him with prostitutes and porn while swearing he was an angel.

Yeah. I know. How stupid is it to French kiss a vampire and not expect sharp teeth?

With The Vampire Diaries, it's not just a tease, especially with the relationships. You're not sitting there going, 'God, I wish they'd get it over with and kiss!' There's no teasing, they jump right into the action.

"You've experienced the way I can manipulate the emotions around myself, Bella, but I wonder if you realize how the feelings in a room affect me. I live every day in a climate of emotion. For the first century of my life, I lived in a world of bloodthirsty vengeance. Hate was my constant companion." - Jasper Hale

You know, all writers are vampires and they'll look around and they watch you when you're not even thinking they're watching you and they'll slip stuff in.

You persist in this romantic vision of what it is to be a vampire, but despite my best efforts to curb it I have a taste for blood.

You were out on tour, 75 cities in 80 days, and then making records on top of it. And they started calling us the Hollywood Vampires 'cause anybody only saw us at night.

Zombies are the new vampires.

You know," he said, "every time a vampire says he doesn't believe in lycanthropes, a werewolf bursts into flames.

You know, you say ‘not exactly’ a lot. You’re not exactly a vampire. You’re not exactly from Scotland, and you’re allergic to daylight. What else? (Sunshine) I hate bran muffins and grass. (Talon)

Zombies are the new vampire.

Although I felt very weak, I did not feel ill; and strength, one always fancies, is a thing that may be picked up when we please.

After a day filled with talking, laughing, reminiscing and making future plans, Evie had returned to Eversby Priory in high spirits. She was full of news to share with her husband... including the fact that the protagonist of Daisy's current novel in progress had been partly inspired by him. "I had the idea when the subject of your husband came up at a dinner party a few months ago, Evie," Daisy had explained, dabbing at a tiny stain left by a strawberry that had fallen onto her bodice. "Someone remarked that Kingston was still the handsomest man in England, and how unfair it was that he never ages. And Lillian said he must be a vampire, and everyone laughed. It started me thinking about that old novel The Vampyre, published about fifty years ago. I decided to write something similar, only a romantic version." Lillian had shaken her head at the notion. "I told Daisy no one would want to read about a vampire lover. Blood... teeth..." She grimaced and shivered. "He enslaves women with his charismatic power," Daisy protested. "He's also a rich, handsome duke- just like Evie's husband." Annabelle spoke then, her blue eyes twinkling. "In light of all that, one could forgive a bad habit or two." Lillian gave her a skeptical glance. "Annabelle, could you really overlook a husband who went around sucking the life out of people?" After pondering the question, Annabelle asked Daisy, "How rich is he?" She ducked with a smothered laugh as Lillian pelted her with a biscuit. Laughing at her friends' antics, Evie had asked Daisy, "What's the title?" "The Duke's Deadly Embrace." "I suggested The Duke Was a Pain in the Neck," Lillian had said, "but Daisy thought it lacked romance.

After a few brief simple moments, he found her neck, kissing the nape as if it were a peach, grazing her skin barely, causing her to moan out a small tiny little whimper. Before she could take another rbreath, his lips met hers in rapture, and suddenly, she was lost within the tragic abyss of falling beneath a lovebinding spell.

After a life of being entombed, essentially a slave to an unfair beginning, I am free. I'm a liberated whore of the world with little to no inhibitions." (Annie from upcoming book 3)

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

Alexia's books called this end of the vampire life cycle dissanimation. Alexia, who thought the action astoundingly similar to a soufflé going flat, decided at that moment to call it the Grand Collapse.

A man without a sweet tooth is not to be trusted.

And do you not think less of me for making my fortune in such a way?” After all, her own sister did. He gave her an odd look. “There is no shame in being the mistress of a king. It’s a position of great power and influence. I think less of Louis for letting you go.

Amy! Sit correctly, you are wearing a dress...feet on the floor and your knees together girl...You are trying to catch a husband, not flies !

And if I vas to point at a castle on a towering crag and say 'Yonder is...zer castle' a volf would be bound to howl mournfully. In zer old country, zer scenery is psychotropic and knows vot is expected of it. Here, alas, people just look at you in a funny vay.

Am I still married to a cat? (Adrian)

An ancient gate, sealed by the powers of Light and Darkness, barred the way to the Pillars beyond. To depart this place and continue my journey, I would have to find the means to open it.

And suddenly he thought, I'm the abnormal one now. Normalcy was a majority concept, the standard of many and not the standard of just one man.

And then I got what she was saying. In the paranormal world, everyone was your enemy.

Apparently, once you got used to regular and spectacular sex, your body had a mind of its own (so to speak) when it was deprived of that recreation; to say nothing of missing the hugging and cuddling part.

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

Apparently, she was going to visit an evil witch with a scary poet vampire.

And you’re absolutely breathtaking.

A red veil covers the room as walls, which flow but do not stand. Screams echo from every stone. Incense I smell of sandalwood and lavender, and lavender I taste as well. A tea, a brew, or a liquid I sip. Calm I feel. Gyfu shows a great sacrifice will be made. I feel tied in knots as light reflects from crystals found in rock. All is not what it seems. Choices are made, the white handled bolline swings, the steps slide, gates swing open, memories flow like rain—betrayal and it is done. --A quote by Gannon reciting his vision

ARE YOU CRAZY?" I ASKED. He gave me the same wordless look he always did when I asked that question.

Are you going to hurt me?" She raised her voice this time. The vampire just grinned. She felt a pain in her chest again as her heart rate accelerated. The corners of his mouth lifted to reveal a toothy grin; it was terrifying, like a shark about to sink its teeth into her. "Yes." His answer seemed to inhabit the room. "But you'll thank me for it.

Are you telling me that vampires and werewolves are the reason America won the Revolutionary War?,” I asked, dumbfounded.

As he plunged inside her with his tongue, delving deep into her inner core, he knew the sweet nectar was heaven itself. He licked his lips, the taste of her lingering on his tongue. He wanted more. Always more.

As a human I'm complex, as a human I don't have limits, but the book have it's own limits. All the time something good happens?? But why people don't continue to live in horror?? It satisfies me, to see how people suck blood it's a symptom that you are watching a vampire... But it's to far isn't it?? Sometimes to dream, how you dream and how you wake up in the dream and you wake up from that dream... wow that's awesome!?

As I came down the stairs, all attention turned from the girls, and everyone looked to me as though this were some sort of drama taking place on a stage, and I was the scorned lover come to confront my erstwhile beloved. I was not. I was just a whore, nothing else. Nothing more.

As I pull down my dress the sudden realisation that I have just brutalised my own twat in the company of others places me in the most perplexing situation that I have ever found myself in.

As he sat up, he heard soft dripping sounds from the bathroom, little plips like water slipping over the edges of the tub and into the floor. The hairs on the back of his neck rose as he realized where he‟d last heard that sound. His muscles tight with strain from his earlier exertions, he stood and walked warily toward the half open bathroom door and the tub beyond it. Slipping quietly past the door, he saw that the curtain was drawn, and again the shadowed figure lay behind it. One long, slim, leg dangled from the end of the tub, beads of water gliding down its length and off the polished toes. At the other end he saw a mass of auburn curls, matted deep red near the porcelain of the tub. It was the dream and the vision again, more real now, too strong to deny. Shaking, he moved toward the curtain, gagging on the sickly smell of rust and roses, feeling the thin nylon glide between thumb and palm as he pulled it back to reveal his darkest nightmare and deepest regret. He could see the crimson water now, blood bubbles gliding over its surface and clinging to the legs dangling over the tub‟s edge. When he‟d pulled the curtain completely away from the tub and around to its opposite side, he saw her face. Her eyes were closed and he saw that her lids were bruised and purple against the translucent paleness of her face, drained completely dead white under the makeup she‟d brushed on before she‟d died. Staggering by the sight of her, he knelt by the tub and extended one shaking hand to touch her cheek. It all seemed as if he‟d walked into a horror film and once again he needed to prove to his mind that this wasn‟t real. His hand shook as he lifted it nearer to her flesh, waiting for the corpse, the supposedly dead and buried to move. He touched his quivering fingers to her face, feeling its claylike reality. The sensation caused an immediate shudder of revulsion and he fought not to vomit. Even as the moment came, the sight of her moving in the water startled him and he jumped away from the tub. It wasn‟t an obvious movement at first, only soft breaths moving in and out of her nostrils, but then her chest rose and fell with it and he quaked, feeling unstable where he knelt on the floor. Her eyes opened next and he felt the blood fall out of his face, wanting to scream but too afraid he would cause her to take some action, to reach out and touch him, proving well and forever that he was indeed insane. Scream and you might as well slit your own throat. He swallowed the scream like a rock and stared as her eyes moved slowly in their sockets, locking on him. Slowly, as if she‟d lost control of her muscles, she rose from the tub and looked down at him, smiling. Blood water slid down her bare body, over her neck, down her back and the smooth ridges of her breasts, to slip slowly down her thighs and down over her calves. A puddle spread on the floor, and as it extended toward him he struggled to his feet, skittering away from it. As he watched it spread, he shivered, weak as he started to cry frantic, horrified tears. Breaking down, he looked back up at her face and slipped to the floor once more, his knees incapable of sustaining his own weight. The smile grew wider as she strode to his shivering form, thrown on his side and struggling to rise. The blood water seeped into his clothes, making him sick, a drop of it trickling along the lobe of his ear and into it. And then she leaned down, holding those dim, stained curls of auburn out of her face and tucking them behind her ear. Her lips parted, blue beneath the strong crimson red of her lipstick, and she spoke into his ear with the chill breath of the dead. His eyes grew wide and horrified as she spoke, the hair on his neck rising, sending a maddening shiver of fear through him. “I‟ve returned, Raven.” She whispered “And I want what is mine.” The last thing he saw before his mind, finally, thankfully, shut down was her face in front of his. They were pursed for a kiss.

As much as he cared for Kaitlin, he knew that the clan’s survival was much more important that his own heart. Without her, he would be heartbroken all over again. He would lose her just as he had lost Angela with no hope of ever seeing her again, but he could run the clan with a broken heart. He would be a stronger, more feared leader without her, but he was sure that if Kaitlin had known his reasoning, she would have understood. She was the only one to understand him.

As my laughter faded, he shot me an amused glance. "You should laugh more often. It's far less nauseating than your speaking voice." "That may be the nicest thing you've ever said to me." "Don't let it go to your head.

As usual I was working the graveyard shift—an irony I reveled in—at an emergency call center. What other shift would a vampire feel comfortable working?

As the middle child of the Laurel Canyon Adams Family, Whit was surprisingly chill on the subject of ampire-vays.

As she felt his fangs against her neck, she was in another world. There was screaming. A woman was somewhere in agony. Everything was black, and the tormented scream was overwhelming, echoing through the emptiness. After the screaming subsided, there was panting, loud and steady, and it wasn’t as dark anymore. There was a room visible now, in a reddish light. A pale man with black hair hovered over a woman dressed in white. She lay on a bed, looking disheveled and sweaty. Her brown-black hair clung to her wet forehead and shoulders. She was covered in blood. The man sat next to her, and held her close to him. He stroked her hair as her chest heaved desperately. “I love you, my dearest Katerina,” he said, cradling her in his strong arms. “Soon, we’ll be together forever.” Everything faded to black once more, and the woman stopped breathing. All was silent and still.

Being kidnapped and abused by the undead was worse than calculus, but not by a wide margin.

At least I could tell she wouldn't try to kill me in my sleep now.

At least, my boobs weren’t showing this time.

Aunt Jettie: "yes, i'm wandering the earth seeking revenge on ben & jerry for giving me the fat a$$ and coronary & I give out love advice to the tragically lonely." jane: "Is that an ironic eternal punishment for the lady who died an eighty-one year old spinster." jettie: "single by choice you twirp." jane: "banshee." jettie: "bloodsucker.