Best 163 quotes in «monster quotes» category

But I do not actually remember being a monster. I just remember wanting my own way.

But perhaps the universe is suspended on the tooth of some monster.

Claws grabbed his head from behind, curving round his face, serrated talons gouging into his eyes

Deal with all this, live with myself, you mean? I honestly don't know. I stand often enough at the abyss of my soul, asking that same question, looking down into the dark crevices where the black monsters dwell on the bottom. They gaze up at me, and I look them in the eyes. “This also you are,” they say, and I almost fall into the void.” “And then?” Anaxantis shrugged. “And then? I turn around and go do what needs to be done. What else is there?

Cubism is a Cathedral of shit.

Do you remember bedtime as a child? I was terrified of the dark. I was terrified of the closed closet door that surely cracked open when I wasn't looking and spewed out ghouls and devils. I took care that no arms or legs protruded from the bed. I sometimes slept with the covers over my head. Sweltering, panting, barely breathing. Not even my hair exposed, lest a monster discover and devour me. I remember begging my father to check under the bed. I remember trying to explain how some monsters had invisibility cloaks. He would kiss my cheek and switch off the light. We stop looking under the bed once we realize that the monsters are inside us. It's funny how they transform. Suddenly they don't mind daylight. Suddenly they dress nicely, speak our language, and share our customs. They sit next to us on the metro and jog around our neighborhoods. They slip things into our drinks at parties and offer us jobs. Sometimes we spot them, sometimes we don't. Sometimes we even do the unthinkable: we invite them to our bed. As adults, we burn down the sanctuaries we created as children. Our inner child freaks out, but its screams are drowned by our moans as our monsters bring us to orgasm.

Dove tried to take her mind away from his man meat, but it was like her brain was paralyzed by dick osmosis. Johnson’s feet were big, which meant… He has a monster cock.

Eldon sat beside Tobias, eating his meal with quiet dignity – or as much as he could muster. Lydia’s younger sister Tess was sitting on a highchair across from him, holding her plate to her face and gobbling down her food as ravenously as a beast from a trough. She was wearing a lovely black dress and a matching scarf that were gathering several unfortunate stains. When she felt Eldon staring, the green girl slowly looked up and dragged her fat red tongue across her jagged yellow teeth, gravy and mashed potatoes dripping from her cheeks. “Ugh, Lydia,” complained Wynona and gestured her fingers in disdain. “Can’t you control that little gremlin?

El monstruo me abrazaba con tal fuerza que no sabía dónde acababa yo y donde empezaba el, aunque yo seguía allí, en algún lugar.

Every monster could be saved.

Everything in this world, as well as the world itself, strives for balance and harmony. Electron reaches proton, male tends to female, light replaces darkness, life is balanced by death, and vice versa. And evil on one scale will inevitably lead to the appearance of good on the other.

Finely blinked, "Griffin?" "That's my girl." He murmured in a low tone, so no one but her could hear. Then, as the crowd drew too close, he swept her away,

Franny?” Rosy held up the four little Franks. “Could I keep one of these?” Franny looked at her hard for a moment then nodded. “’Course you can, hen,” she said, “But that’s not your daddy.” Rosy gaped. “It’s not?” “That’s my wee darling. That’s my wee Frankie before the devil twisted him into a monster.” She poked her finger into another hole where Frank’s face should have been. Her eyes glinted.

From here on," Kanin said, "you will have to decide what kind of demon you will be. Not all meals will come to you so easily, ignorant and seeking to do you harm. What will you do if your prey invites you inside, offers you a place at the table? What will you do if they flee, or cower down, begging you not to hurt them? How you stalk your prey is something you must come to terms with, or you will quickly drive yourself mad. And once you cross that threshold, there is no coming back from it.

He continued to move forward, skirting a pocket of radiation that had not died in the four years since last he had come this way. They came upon a place where the sands were fused into a glassy sea, and he slowed as he began its passage, peering ahead after the craters and chasms it contained. Three more rockfalls assailed him before the heavens split themselves open and revealed a bright-blue light, edged with violet. The dark curtains rolled back toward the Poles, and the roaring and the gunfire reports diminished. A lavender glow remained in the north, and a green sun dipped toward the horizon at his back. They had ridden it out, and he killed the infras, pushed back his goggles, and switched on the normal night lamps. The desert would be bad enough, all by itself. Something big and batlike swooped through the tunnel of his lights and was gone. He ignored its passage. Five minutes later it made a second pass, this time much closer, and he fired a magnesium flare. A black shape, perhaps forty feet across, was illuminated, and he gave it two five-second bursts from the fifty-calibers, and it fell to the ground and did not return again. To the squares, this was Damnation Alley. To Hell Tanner, this was still the parking lot.

He didn’t mind Drake so much. Drake was a creep. It was the girl who made Orc want to cry. She was a monster. Like Orc. Begging for death. Begging for someone to let her go to her Jesus. Kill me, kill me, kill me, she begged every day and every night. Orc took a deep swig. Tears seeped from his human eyes and fell into the rocky crevices of his face.

He did the same thing to me. It’s a classic torture technique. Pull someone’s fingernails out and they’re wanting Mommy so badly that they fall into the arms of the very monster who did it to them.

He leaned towards me, and I did what any reasonable person would do when facing imminent death by being eaten alive. I screamed.

Helen devises plans to become a monster herself.

Hell and Heaven are states of being, not destinations. They are worlds we carry within. Don't expect to find angels and demons -- not in the way you've envisioned them. As God is called Allah, so Man is called Monster. Don't be fooled by titles. Call a skunk a rose and it will continue to reek. Hydras do not crawl out from between the weatherworn pages of fairytale anthologies. On the contrary, they ride the subway and order food at the local drive-through and enjoy stolen kisses at the cinema. Only one head is visible to the naked eye. They tend to avoid reflective surfaces. Each head is a sin: each belch of fire is a sin put to action. But you should know that the shadows differ. There may be seven heads, or three, or one. Those with one head are particularly tricky. Who's to say if they're human or hydra? You'd have to kiss them, bite them. You would know them by their mouth. The name of their sin is tattooed on the inside of their bottom lip, so they can lick and taste its sweetness.

He was six years old this time, and ancient.

His booted feet pounded out an insane, frantic rhythm underneath him as he raced into the cavern across from Baba Yaga’s den at a dead sprint. Pieces of dragon dung flew off him and hit the ground behind him in miniature chunks. He didn’t dare look behind him to see if the dragon had risen from the ground yet, but the deafening hiss that assaulted his ears meant she’d woken up. Icy claws of fear squeezed his heart with every breath as he ran, relying on the night vision goggles, the glimpse he’d gotten of the map, and his own instincts to figure out where to go. Jack raced around one corner too sharply and slipped on a piece of dung, crashing hard on his right side. He gasped as it knocked the wind out of him and gritted his teeth, his mind screaming at him to get up and run, run, run. He pushed onto his knees, nursing what felt like bruised ribs and a sprained wrist, and then paled as an unmistakable sensation traveled up the arm he’d used to push himself up. Impact tremors. Boom. Boom. Boom, boom, boom. Baba Yaga was coming. Baba Yaga was hunting him. Jack forced himself up onto his feet again, stumbling backwards and fumbling for the tracker. He got it switched on to see an ominous blob approaching from the right. He’d gotten a good lead on her—maybe a few hundred yards—but he had no way of knowing if he’d eventually run into a dead end. He couldn’t hide down here forever. He needed to get topside to join the others so they could take her down. Jack blocked out the rising crescendo of Baba Yaga’s hissing and pictured the map again. A mile up to the right had a man-made exit that spilled back up to the forest. The only problem was that it was a long passage. If Baba Yaga followed, there was a good chance she could catch up and roast him like a marshmallow. He could try to lose her in the twists and turns of the cave system, but there was a good chance he’d get lost, and Baba Yaga’s superior senses meant it would only be a matter of time before she found him. It came back to the most basic survival tactics: run or hide. Jack switched off the tracker and stuck it in his pocket, his voice ragged and shaking, but solid. “You aren’t about to die in this forest, Jackson. Move your ass.” He barreled forward into the passageway to the right in the wake of Baba Yaga’s ominous, bubbling warning, barely suppressing a groan as a spike of pain lanced through his chest from his bruised ribs. The adrenaline would only hold for so long. He could make it about halfway there before it ran out. Cold sweat plastered the mask to his face and ran down into his eyes. The tunnel stretched onward forever before him. No sunlight in sight. Had he been wrong? Jack ripped off the hood and cold air slapped his face, making his eyes water. He held his hands out to make sure he wouldn’t bounce off one of the cavern walls and squinted up ahead as he turned the corner into the straightaway. There, faintly, he could see the pale glow of the exit. Gasping for air, he collapsed against one wall and tried to catch his breath before the final marathon. He had to have put some amount of distance between himself and the dragon by now. “Who knows?” Jack panted. “Maybe she got annoyed and turned around.” An earth-shattering roar rocked the very walls of the cavern. Jack paled. Boom, boom, boom, boom! Boom, boom, boom, boomboomboomboom— Mother of God. The dragon had broken into a run. Jack shoved himself away from the wall, lowered his head, and ran as fast as his legs would carry him.

...his eyes lit up and glowed red against the dark bulk of it. A moment they remained so ... then they soared up, phosphorescently opalescent, with a predominance of red, like two sinful dead planets escaping from Hell.

How about a favor?” I asked impulsively –foolishly. Oh, but how I would regret these words. I was sure about that. But nothing else came to mind, and to regret it, I still had to live.

How can a monster tell if he’s a monster if he’s never known anything else?

However, as I say, he stood there and watched. Watched the smoke, or vapor, or whatever it was, whirl and whirl, faster and faster, snatching up the vagrant wisps and streamers that had strayed to the far corners of the room, sucking them in, incorporating them into the central column, until at last that column, swirling there, seemed almost solid. It was solid. It had ceased its whirling and stood there quivering, jelly-like, plastic, but nevertheless, solid. And, as though molded in the hands of an invisible sculptor, that column was changing. Indentations appeared here, protuberances there. The character of the surface altered subtly; presently it was no longer smooth and lustrous, but rough and scaly. It lost most of its luminosity and became an uncertain, lichenous green. Until at last it was a - thing. That moment, Denning thinks, was the most horrible in all the adventure. Not because of the horror of the thing that stood before him, but because at that very moment an automobile, driven by some belated citizen passed by outside, the light from its headlights casting eerie gleams across the walls and the ceiling; and the thought of the difference between the commonplace world in which that citizen was living, and the frightful things taking place in this room almost overcame the cowering man by the doorway. And, too, the light made just that much plainer the disgusting details of the creature that towered above them. ("Out Of The Jar")

Huggies from my Juggies

I always thought they were fabulous monsters!" said the Unicorn. "Is it alive?" "It can talk," said Haigha, solemnly. The Unicorn looked dreamily at Alice, and said, "Talk, child." Alice could not help her lips curling up into a smile as she began: "Do you know, I always thought Unicorns were fabulous monsters, too! I never saw one alive before!" "Well, now that we have seen each other," said the Unicorn, "if you'll believe in me, I'll believe in you. Is that a bargain?

I am afraid a monster is grown that will devour all of us. Yet we must fight him.

I am bold to Say that neither you nor I, will live to See the Course which 'the Wonders of the Times' will take. Many Years, and perhaps Centuries must pass, before the current will acquire a Settled direction... yet Platonic, Pythagoric, Hindoo, and cabalistic Christianity, which is Catholic Christianity, and which has prevailed for 1,500 years, has received a mortal wound, of which the monster must finally die. Yet so strong is his constitution, that he may endure for centuries before he expires. {Letter to Thomas Jefferson, July 16 1814}

I am Sunai,” he said. “I am holy fire. And if I have to burn the world to cleanse it, so help me, I will.

At last, when the dust settled, the Queen and the Jinni stood on the mountaintop and looked down on the battlefield and the bodies spread like leaves across the desert. The Queen fell to her knees, wearied and wounded, and her sword dropped from her hand. Before her, the doorway to Ambadya burned with fires of every color. “All I wanted,” said the Queen, “was peace between our peoples. But I see now that this is not possible, for my people are ruled by a dreamer, and the jinn are ruled by a monster. My only consolation is that thou art by my side, my Jinni. I would die in the company of a friend, and give thee my final breath. For I have one wish remaining, and it is for thy freedom, yea, even at the cost of mine own life.” At this the Jinni shook her head, replying, “Nay, my queen. The time for wishing is passed. For here is the Shaitan, Lord of all Jinn and King of Ambadya.” And even as she spoke, the fires in the doorway rose higher, and through them stepped Nardukha the Shaitan, terrible to behold. “O impudent woman,” said the Shaitan, looking down at the Queen. “Wouldst thou dare make the Forbidden Wish?” “I would,” she replied. “For I fear thee not.” “Then thou art a fool.” As the Queen’s heart turned to ashes, realizing her doom was upon her, the Shaitan turned to the Jinni and said, “Dost thou recall the first rule of thy kinsmen, Jinni?” And the Jinni replied, “Love no human.” “And hast thou kept this commandment?” “Lord, I have.” And up she rose, as the Queen cried out in dismay. “Are not we like sisters?” asked the Queen. “Of one heart and one spirit?” And the Jinni replied, “Nay, for I am a creature of Ambadya, and thus is my nature deceitful and treacherous. My Lord has come at last, and I would do all that he commands.” The Shaitan, looking on with approval, said to the Jinni, “This human girl is proud and foolish, thinking she could rule both men and jinn. I am well pleased with thee, my servant, who hast brought her to me. Slay the queen and prove thy loyalty to thy king.” And the Jinni grinned, and in her eyes rose a fire. “With pleasure, my Lord.” Then, with a wicked laugh, she struck down the good and noble Queen, the mightiest and wisest of all the Amulen monarchs, whose only mistake was that she had dared to love a Jinni.

But what is a dream, Conor O'Malley? the monster said, bending down so it's face was close to Conor's. Who is to say that it is not everything else that is the dream?

I cannot believe the path to victory lies in staining our souls so black we become indistinguishable from those we fight.

I didn't know what kind of creature I was supposed to be until I woke on a hospital cot and was informed I had died. Nobody ever told me what I was. I figured I was broken. But it turns out that my scars were divine signs that I was granted a chance to begin again.

I do not like the terms. I don’t get any offspring, any beloved, I cannot ask something that is not in your power and I do not get to have your soul?” Her lips twisted in a sarcastic smile, and I could tell I had managed to insult her. “Although I suppose that’s some other entity’s priority and not mine. But that aside, what’s left for me?

I don't believe in monsters." "Well, Red, I think you might want to start." Pike turned and looked him in the eye. "What do you think those green things were? And what do you think is trying to smash its way in here? A pony?

If I’m a monster, mademoiselle, it’s because man’s cruelty has made me so.

If it's a monster, we made it that way.

If men were not besot by their dogmas, they may have realized their own follies. It is the man who stands aside as evil happens that is truly the monster.

I’ll rid the world of each one of you,” he whispered. “Every single one…

I'm a little monster. Cuddling is my special attack. #cuddlemonster

I'm a little monster. Cuddling is my specail attack. #cuddlemonster

I'm on the edge, Neblin, I'm off the edge - I'm over the edge and falling into hell on the other side.' 'Calm down, John,' he said. 'We can work through this. Just tell me where you are.' 'I'm down in the cracks of the sidewalks,' I said, 'in the dirt and in the blood, and the ants are looking up and we're damning you all, Neblin. I'm down in the cracks and I can't get out.

I never said you had to like it. You have to accept it. No regret." - Clare Harding From the current book in writing BUMPKIN by Lani Brown.

In the end, I'm not interested in that which I fully understand. The words I have written over the years are just a veneer. There are truths that lie beneath the surface of the words... truths that rise up without warning, like the humps of a sea monster and then disappear. What performance and song is to me is finding a way to tempt the monster to the surface, to create a space, where the creature can break through what is real and what is known to us. This shimmering space, where imagination and reality intersect... this is where all love and tears and joy exist. This is the place. This is where we live.

I sat back and looked at it. It was ugly, dark, uncontrolled. Like a monster's face. Or maybe what I saw there was my own face. I couldn't quite tell. Was the face the image of something evil or the image of myself? "Both," Bea muttered, as if I'd spoken my question out loud. "Of course, it's both. But it shouldn't be. Goodness, no.

I see your bleeding dark side. I feel your angry heart. Reveals forbidden places. More monster yet alive...

I stand before her, meeting her eye to eye and nose to nose. My head takes a slight bow as I clench my fist. “I should have just killed you like any other bloodsucking vampire.” “So why didn’t you?” She tiptoes, clenching her first as well. I have to admit. She is a much better version of the Snow White you see in a Disney movie. She’s kind of kickass. I like it, but I will never let her know.“Why do you care so much about me then? Ha?” She asks. "I should have killed you before," I repeated while all I could do is wonder how I'd ever fallen in love with a monster girl.

There was once an invisible man, the monster continued, though Conor kept his eyes firmly on Harry, who had grown tired of being unseen. Conor set himself into a walk. A walk after Harry. It was not that he was actually invisible, the monster said, following Conor, the room volume dropping as they passed. It was that the people had become used to not seeing him. "Hey!" Conor called. Harry didn't turn around. Neither did Sully nor Anton, though thet were still sniggering as Conor picked up his pace. And if no one sees you, the monster said, picking up its pace, too, are you really there at all? "HEY!" Conor called loudly. The dining hall had fallen silent now, as Conor and the monster moved faster after Harry. Harry who had still not turned around. Conor reached him and grabbed him by the shoulder, twisting him round. Harry pretended to question what had happened, looking hard at Sully, acting like he was the one who'd done it. "Quit messing about," Harry said and turned away again. Turned away from Conor. And then one day the invisible man decided, the monster said, its voice ringing in Conor's ears, I will make them see me. "How?" Conor asked, breathing heavily again, not turning back to see the monster standing there, not looking at the reaction of the room to the huge monster now in the midst, though he was aware of nervous murmurs and a strange anticipation in the air. "How did the man do it?" Conor could feel the monster close behind him, knew that it was kneeling, knew that it was putting its face up to his ear to whisper into in, to tell him the rest of the story. He called, it said for a monster.