Best 696 quotes in «vampire quotes» category

Fangs out? Check. Claws sharp? Check. Plan? Plan? What plan? I’m making this up as I go.

Father and the child were no longer speaking, but they sat together in silence. The child was at his feet, and he sat, up in his throne, his eyes on the sky as well. It made her smile. They existed beneath the same stretch of stars. They loved the same night blanket above them. She looked at him, taking the opportunity to relish in his distraction to study him, his midnight hair, his pale body, only barely covered by the cloak, the fur of it distractingly like his hair, his lips just parted enough that his fangs were visible, his deep violet eyes, his long, elegant fingers, stroking the… She swallowed back pain that rose up her throat as she watched Father stroking the boy’s hair. Sitting together like that, the similarities between them were bewitching. She frowned, glancing once, disdainfully at the wavy-haired child with the slanted green eyes, walking to her Father’s throne and bending her knee in a bow. There was a sound like a chuckle, and she looked up at him. He was smiling at her. It warmed the quiet cold in her chest. “Come,” he said in his sonorous voice, and the darkness whispered with it, a thousand voices in varying degrees of age, gender, depth and lifted sweetness, all speaking together. She moved closer to him, sitting where his arm wound around her shoulder, fitting them together like childish toy blocks.

Fear and hopelessness washed over her. She was looking her own mortality in the face, and it was a horrifying thing to do.

Finally the vampire released him with another groan, sitting back on his haunches. "Your blood is steeped in power." Running his tongue over a fang, he said, "Among other things. I believe I might be high. But I like it.

First, you must be certain that you are ready for knowledge. There are many things that we bury in our minds for a reason. Are you sure that you want to go digging up the past?”- Elsie (Marked Book #1) page 226

For us men, sex is the most important thing in the world. Men feel about sex the way vampires feel about blood. They don't just like it, they crave it. That's why vampire stories always have strong sexual undercurrents. A vampire's hunger is simply a metaphor for a man's lust.

For what can the damned really have to say to the damned?

Fun? “Katrina, I didn’t request to be set up on a date. I can’t go meet a complete stranger and….” he scanned the email again. “…and spend the night with her?

Good was above all kind; it was to be gentle. It was to waste nothing. It was to paint, to read, to study, to listen.

Great. I guess you're the dog whisperer, vampire edition.

Great. There goes our security deposit." ~ Sean

Grimes believed in what he did, with no doubts. Though he was older than me by over a decade, I suddenly felt old. Some things mark your soul, not in years but in blood and pain and selling off parts of yourself to get the bad guys, until you finally look in the mirror and aren’t sure which side you’re on anymore. There comes a point when having a badge doesn’t make you the good guy, it just makes you one of the guys. I needed to be one of the good guys, or what the hell was I doing?

Handsome vampires are addictive

Has he finally had his full of my acquired taste? Has he decided that I am too wicked to live with after all? The idea clenches at my lungs, smothering them to uselessness.

He'd saved her life and killed her trust. He'd thought it a fair trade, at the time.

…he grabbed my hand again. That same warmth hit me, seeping into my skin. I bit my lip and forced myself not to relish in the tingling heat. Samuel’s eyes widened. Fangs erupted from his gums. His nostrils flared as he inhaled me.

He had seen so much of life, but even more of death. He had seen countless eras come and go and still he braved forward, forever alone. And here she was ready to give up after a few lousy years. She was a coward.

He kissed my palm, lingering his lips on my skin. Then he inhaled. "Mmmm," he moaned. " Like gin to an alcoholic. Sweet as fresh molasses and deadly as snake venom.

He leaned toward me. Suddenly the space between us shrank. "I will do everything in my power to ensure your survival, and should the need arise, I will put myself between danger and you." His voice was quiet and intimate. "Do not hesitate to use me as your shield." His voice sent tiny shivers through me. Wow.

He looked at my blue eye and then my brown. “Your eyes are like heaven and earth, and I’m trapped somewhere in between.

He lowered his head until his lips hovered centimeters above hers. This was the moment he craved. This heated moment – each of them lingering, waiting, wanting. He loved the excitement of the build-up almost as much as the conquest itself. As he’d told her many times, the greater the anticipation, the sweeter the reward.

He sat up, going still. “Am I wearing a wife-beater, Lizvetta?” He gaped down. “Oh, come on!

He smelled like a sultry summer storm—cool, refreshing rain, sweltering, hot wind, and charged, electric thunder—all rolled up into one extremely enticing vampire being.

He thought about that visionary lady. To die, he thought, never knowing the fierce joy and attendant comfort of a loved one's embrace. To sink into that hideous coma, to sink then into death and, perhaps, return to sterile, awful wanderings. All without knowing what it was to love and be loved. That was a tragedy more terrible than becoming a vampire.

He stood just near the club’s steps, his back to me along the foggy English night, and it was not until I’d passed him and began my ascent of the many steps that I’d heard his voice. The voice I knew, in all my years of living upon the Earth, that I would never forget. Even then I had known this. It was the slippery way of his tongue, or perhaps it was the coolness of which his words passed across the air and slid its way into my ears as though they were only meant for me.

He wanted it to be just right; he didn’t want to make the mistake of trying to tell her he loved her, and having the words come out confused or ending up saying something completely different. He changed into a fresh suit, checked his hair and took a few deep breaths to calm himself, before returning to Amelia’s chambers…only to find her gone. A sigh of frustration escaped him. It was so typical. He told her there was a surprise for her, she was excited, and he was about to confess that he loved her…of course it was only natural for her to ruin it by running off. It was so typically Amelia.

His debtors always assumed he'd demand their firstborn. Like I'm fucking Rumpelstiltskin? What would Lothaire do with countless squalling babes? Raise them in a kennel?

His breathing was heavy, and full of life. He shivered still, his hand finding Katty unsteady and unprepared of what was going to come next. “I hurt you!” Nico said, his voice raised with worry. “No, not at all, honey, my sweetest Master, but you have me, all of me, the wholeness of me and my darkness.” “You play with the devil dear.” Nico sombered. “No.” Katty defiantly said. “You took my blood and it made me your slave, yet I love every minute of it.” “Tell me you love me Katty.” He said, nearing her closer than close, mending the space between them with the threads of courage. “Tell me you have no fear, nor no weakness against me. Or no shame in loving me.” “I fear you not, my love.” Katty sincerely committed. “I fear only that you will be taken away by the hands of the vampire hunter, and only then, will I fall.

His tone dripping condescension, Lothaire crooned, “Ah children, it’s not yet story time.” He closed his eyes and turned away, saying over his shoulder, “To anyone who contemplates even nearing me while I sleep: I will garrote you with your own viscera.

How dare you come into my home? And hurt my family? I ought to tear your throat out right here, right now!

How come they get to be gray-haired and still in love with each other, while Lilly tears out what's left of my heart and dumps it into her Jill-The-Ripper shredder?

How do you keep all the balls you got dancing in the air from crashing down on your fucking head, Rousseau?" "Centuries of practice?

How is Angeline?" asked Dimitri. "Is she improving?" Eddie and I exchanged glances. So much for avoiding her indiscretions. "improving how exactly?" I asked. "Improving how exactly?" I asked. "In combat, in following the dress code, or in keeping her hands to herself?" "Or in turning off caps lock?" added Eddie. "you noticed that too?"I asked. "Hard not to," he said. Dimitri looked surprised, which was not a common thing. He wasn't caught off guard very often, but then, no one could really prepare for what Angeline might do. "I didn't realize I needed to be more specific," said Dimitri after a pause. "I meant combat.

I am many things. Stupid is not one of them. Your wrath is impressive for a mortal.

I am yours. Whatever you ask of me it is done.”- Marc (Marked Book #1) page 179

I blew through her like baby’s breath through a dandelion, and my soul left its mark on hers. Forever. In one night, I’d bound her too me for as long as she lived, and I had no words to tell her. When I woke the next night, to see her there, above me, the relief radiating from every line of her body, I thought it was more of a miracle than my first rising.

I can assure you, milady, that the sign of the cross does not deter me, and the worst I have suffered from garlic is bad breath.

I can taste fear, and lies, on a man's skin, Cavrax." The Master Priest whispered, watching the large pulse on the cleric's neck beat like a caged thing begging for release. "You're lying to me.

...I could feel what was left of my soul just slipping away as I fed on that girl until she was totally and completely drained.

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

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 understand how meat like you survived to adulthood.

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

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

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

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