Best 696 quotes in «vampire quotes» category

Ida tried not to sigh. “What do you think of your husband?” he asked. “He was rather short,” Ida said without thinking. When Aubrey didn’t respond, she thought that maybe she ought to elaborate and she said, “And beardy.” That was as much as she could remember of him in the midst of the chaotic events. He was short, bearded, quiet. But mostly short. “He used to be an officer,” Aubrey said. “So I have been told,” Ida tried, again, to keep the cheek from her voice though she was quite certain that she was failing. “In the Varangian army,” Aubrey continued. She resisted the urge to comment on how she didn’t care.

I did not need the air, but I liked it.

I didn't see what was in front of me until I thought it might be taken away. - Sam

I didn't want to be in hell, even for a moment. I sure as hell wasn't going there just to spit in the face of the Prince of Darkness, whoever he might be! On the contrary, if I was a damned thing, then let the son of a bitch come for me! Let him tell me why I was mean to suffer. I would truly like to know. As for oblivion, well, we can wait a little while for that.

I don't have a reason to lie to you. Not now.' Jace's gaze remained steady. 'And quit baring your fangs at me. It's making me nervous.' 'Good,' Simon said. 'If you want to know why it's because you smell like blood.' 'It's my cologne. Eau de Recent Injury.' Jace raised his left hand. It was a glove of white bandages, stained across the knucles where blood had seeped through.

I don’t know what was more exhausting—being forced to spew out overwrought poetry for hours on end or having that little girl gaze at me all night as if I hung the moon.” A wry smile touched Adrian’s lips. “Didn’t you?” “No,” Julian retorted, lifting the decanter to the sky in a mocking toast. “Only the stars.

I Don't sparkle ........I Bite !!!

I don't understand how meat like you survived to adulthood.

I don’t understand what makes them come out like that!”“Hunger,” said Jem. “Were you thinking about blood?”“No.”“Were you thinking about eating me?” Will inquired.“No!"“No one would blame you,” said Jem. “He’s very annoying.

If an angel could admit she was wrong about a vampire, maybe there was hope for the werepanthers in East Hampton after all.

If a soul could drown in its own tears, then hers was already dead.

I feel a blood moon rising" Neesa

If I catch you, I might do anything. I might strip the skin from your bones as I drain you dry. Or I might drag you into my chambers and have you pleasure me in ways you cannot even imagine. I might even take mercy on you, and that would be the cruelest injustice of all, because for you, it would only be a temporary reprieve.

If I'd had enough breath, I would have screamed, both at the sensation and at the sheer pettiness of the bastard who wouldn't allow me even a tiny chance of escape.

If I keep loving you, maybe you'll crack and love me too.

If we adopted Jack," I quip, "we'd have to give him combat pay for an allowance

If you don't have anything useful to offer, then get out of here and let us wait until hunger weakens Sonya." And by get out of here, I meant: foolishly think you're going to leave so that I can knock your heads together and drag you back to the guardians.

If I am going to be a monster, the least I could do is be well fed!

I give you a week, maybe two, before you're driven to bite someone." "I don't know how to... to bite or drink! But you could teach me." "And what could you possibly do in return?" Lothaire waved a negligent hand. "Play football for me? Break in my jeans really well?

If your dear heart is wounded, my wild heart bleeds with yours. In the rapture of my enormous humiliation I live in your warm life, and you shall die--die, sweetly die--into mine.

I get a little poetic sometimes. The moonlight does that to me.

I glared at Christian as the blood smeared around. “You could have at least licked it.” He smirked darkly. “I hear that all too often.

I had always heard rumors of her, Nanook thought, she who can control the wind, the water, the earth, and fire ... she who can talk to time. But those were old myths of a woman who lived many thousands of years ago, the first daughter of the Earth. There is a prophecy that she will return again, during the end times -- every religion has someone like that, someone to wait for and put your faith in, but my culture had mostly covered up her existence. We had a god of the sea, a god of the land, a god of the air, a god of fire, but no one who could control all of the elements. We spoke, only in whispers, of the ancient bloodline -- the descendents of the Great Mother. Too many superstitious minds, too many men concerned only with their own power and position, had heard these whispers in the past and taken gruesome steps to erase the descendents. The lineage was said to be broken, the blood of the Great Mother spilled for the last time.

I had a standing arrangement with God: I'd agree to believe in Him -barely- as long as He let me sleep in on Sundays.

I hate it when I go into a Snack Shack and they're out of Blue Ice. The other slushie flavors taste like cheap candy.

If people don't wish to be eaten then they shouldn't taste so nice

I have been so long master that I would be master still, or at least that none other should be master of me.

I have fourteen black wives an' one white, de chiefest one. I would sure enough shoo her away dis minute if you tek her place in my bed tonight, Mama Sam Moon." Was sex all these people ever thought about? I guess life was short back then, and nobody had much time to waste on anything else.

I have kept thee long in waiting, dear Romuald, and thou mayst well have thought that I had forgotten thee. But I have come from a long distance and from a place from which no one has ever before returned; there is neither moon nor sun in the country from which I come; there is naught but space and shadow; neither road nor path; no ground for the foot, no air for the wing; and yet here I am, for love is stronger than death, and it will end by vanquishing it. Ah! what gloomy faces and what terrible things I have seen in my journeying! What a world of trouble my soul, returned to this earth by the power of my will, has had in finding its body and reinstating itself therein! What mighty efforts I had to put forth before I could raise the stone with which they had covered me! See! the palms of my poor hands are all blistered from it. Kiss them to make them well, dear love!

I haven’t entirely adjusted to the whole yum, blood, yum aspect of being a vampire. My body wants it, but my head is still like, Ew, that is BLOOD, time to faint.

I have seen an evil thing this night,' he said; 'I have seen how the dead drink the blood of the living. And the blood is the life.

I hear nothing. I hear nothing, but what does it mean that I hear nothing? I walk in the cemeteries of this city at night and I hear nothing. I walk among mortals and sometimes I hear nothing. I walk alone and I hear nothing, as if I myself had no inner voice.

I ignore him and continue walking. I ignore the light drizzle that falls from the smog-filled sky and I ignore the mass of men who stand outside the public-house attempting to light their pipes with matchsticks that burn out as fast as they are struck alight. I ignore their thunderous cackles and cajoling as one of their friends gets sick on another's boots and I ignore my pseudo-name as my mentor yells it behind me.

I know that everyone in this room, Bernie Fain included, thinks I'm some kind of a nut with my so-called fixation on this vampire thing. OK, maybe I'm wrong. Maybe he only thinks he is. But there are things here that can't be explained away by so-called common sense. Not even Bernie's report can explain some of them. 'I was at the hospital yesterday.' I looked directly at Butcher. 'Your own people fired maybe fifty or sixty rounds at him, some at point-blank range. How come this man never even slowed down? How come a man seventy years old can outrun police cars for more than fifteen blocks? How come when he gets clubbed on the head he doesn't bleed like other people? Look at these photos! There's a gash on his forehead... and whatever is trickling down from the cut is clear... it isn't blood. 'How come three great, big, burly hospital orderlies weighing an estimated total of nearly seven-hundred fifty pounds couldn't bring one, skinny one-hundred sixty pound man to his knees? How come an ex-boxer, a light-heavyweight not long out of the ring, couldn't even faze him with his best punch, a right hook that should have broken his jaw? 'Face it. Whether it's science, witchcraft or black magic, this character has got something going for him you don't know anything about. He doesn't seem to feel pain. Or get winded. And he doesn't seem to be very frightened by guns, or discouraged by your efforts to trap him. 'Look at these photos! Look at that face! That isn't fear there. It's hate. Pure hate! This man is evil incarnate. He is insane and he may be something even worse although you'd laugh at me because I have no scientific documentation to back me up. Hell, even Regenhaus and Mokurji have all but confirmed that he sucks blood. 'Whatever he is, he's been around a long time and this seems to be the closest any police force has come to putting the finger on him. If you want to go on operating the way you've been doing by treating him like an ordinary man, go ahead. But, I'll bet you any amount of money you come up empty handed again. If you try to catch him at night he'll get away just like he did last night. He'll...' 'Jesus Christ!' bellowed Butcher. 'This son of a bitch has diarrhea of the mouth. Can't one of you people shut him up?

I guess you could say I'm allergic to sunlight. If I'm exposed to it, it could kill me.

I know what you’re doing,” he whispered to Raphael, whose movements only became more fervent, and the thought slipped from the boy’s mind so that he became dazed and undone with pleasure, staring up at the ceiling, watching as it blurred and became indistinct, and he felt the rising rush of pleasure, until he cried out in a sharp gasp. And the pleasure went on and on, as it did, unbearably, until either Raphael took pity on him, or he pushed his Genitor away. Whichever it was, the pleasure that was leaking into pain, stopped, and he was lifted and laid down on the stone, cold and hard under his spine, and Raphael was bent over him, kissing up this time, up to his lips, flicking his tongue at them, and whispering: “Don’t question my love for you. Ever again.

... I learn from my mistakes, and falling for you was by far the worst mistake I’ve ever made.

I look like Barbara Bush in drag." Aunt Jettie

I looked at Adrian’s eyes, beautiful, mesmerizing. Not human. I didn’t feel lonely at all. “You’ll take me places?” I asked. His answer was important, even though my decision was already made. “You can’t imagine where we’ll go.” He said, sincerely.

I'm a little tired of protecting people who help the ones trying to conquer them

I mean, electric shock? Isn’t that a bit... electric shock-y?

I'm going to enjoy this.” “What?” I asked. “Hell?

I’m impressed you left to keep everyone safe.” He tenderly massaged the area above my hipbone with his right thumb. “I’ve seen vampire men cry and piss their pants after one hour in the sewers by themselves. You’ve been walking most of the day and all alone.

I miss the flowers; more than anything else I miss the flowers,’ she mused. And sought after them even in the paintings which we brought from the shops and the galleries, magnificent canvases such as I'd never seen in New Orleans-from the classically executed lifelike bouquets, tempting you to reach for the petals that fell on a three-dimensional tablecloth, to a new and disturbing style in which the colors seemed to blaze with such intensity they destroyed the old lines, the old solidity, to make a vision like to those states when I'm nearest my delirium and flowers grow before my eyes and crackle like the flames of lamps. Paris flowed into these rooms.

I’m more than twisted. I’m the worst kind of vampire… But you’re the one who’s craving me, so what does that make you?

I'm most dangerous when bored." ~Drahomira, vampire

I'm not copying you!" Luke said. "A werewolf is totally different than a vampire! You're creepy all the time. Mine is just, like, a monthly thing...." "Like PMS?" I suggested. "Shut up!

I’m not letting you go, Fiona,” he murmured before brushing his lips over hers. She tasted like heaven. And his. Only his. “I’m not going anywhere.

I’m not gay,” said Raphael. “I’m not straight. I’m not interested.” “Your sexuality is ‘not interested’?” Alec asked curiously. Raphael said, “That’s right.

I’m not punishing you.’ ‘No?’ ‘No. You’d know if I was. Trust me.