Best 1001 quotes in «thriller quotes» category

I believe that on any trip to heaven, there are always detours through hell.

I came, I saw, I copied, and I left

I can’t help it if you drive me crazy.” “In bed or out of it?

I can’t believe I ever thought reading to her was a chore. I’d sit here some nights, fidgeting, thinking of all the things I needed to do, my voice hoarse, reluctant to read, ‘just one more chapter,’ wishing I could escape to my glass of wine. What did I have to do that was so important? What could be more important than reading my daughter a bedtime story?

I can't sing. And I can't dance. But I can write.

I can’t wait for the day when we’ll never have to say ‘goodbye’ to each other again.

I closed the door and sank into my desk chair. My heart was pounding even harder. I felt like someone who had just staggered out of her car after an accident on a freeway. This was different from the cockroach and the books and the Barbie. I’d been injured. Someone had tried to physically harm me.

I’d done it, I killed her, but it didn’t feel like I had. You know that feeling? Like when you unplug your flatiron but then aren’t sure you did?

I’d even gotten her lunch for her, carrying it like a pathetic assistant while she whimpered about her arm. I didn’t even spit in it. I wanted to. (Imagine watching her eat something that came from inside me. Oh, heaven.)

I’d follow you through the gates of hell.

I'd eat your face like a pack of jackals eating their stolen spoils.

I detected a relish in their application of little details, the brushstrokes being added to their work of art as it progressed from a simple line drawing to an ornately decorated and multi-layered, palimpsest painting.

I despise common sense. I’ve seen the world from every possible angle. This cruel, ridiculous, beautiful world.

I didn't burn down anyone’s house! I didn’t. I wouldn’t!” Maddie looked at Jacob. “You know I wouldn’t. I didn’t kill you when I had the chance!

I do not possess the ability to draw or paint. I can’t sing or dance. I can’t knit or sew. But I am an artist. I have the ability to put onto paper, words that tell an intriguing story. I am a writer. A writer is someone who, with just words, can paint a beautiful picture. A writer can open up a world of imagination you didn’t realize was possible. When you open up a book and become so consumed in the story, you feel like you’re a part of it… you’re standing next to that character and feeling the same way that character feels, That’s the art of a writer. I am an artist. My inspiration is the world around me. My paintbrush is my words. My easel is my computer. My canvas is the mind of my reader.

I don’t believe he was deliberately taking indecent pictures, they’re too artistic; he’s managed to capture that magical moment when a child’s mind spins into a make-believe world. But actually, what Jack did is steal something – a child’s innocence – whilst creating something darker that will resonate with the adults looking at these photos: themes of sexuality and death, the leitmotifs that run through fairy tales, the stories that we tell ourselves about our children.

I don’t believe in happy endings,” Flynn said, spinning Tess and tilting up her chin. “Just happy beginnings.

I don’t care what Einstein said about God not playing dice; If he exists, he’s addicted to craps.

I don’t know how these things died without benefit of a bullet to the brain pan. They seemed to exist in an eternal twilight of longing.

I don't know how the Wolfman knows all this, but he's not wrong. My warm cheeks turn scalding hot. "Your shame is a good sign. You may break sooner than I thought. The breaking is good. It purifies.

I don't know who you are," she thought, "but whoever you are, you're one hell of a player.

I don't remember things. I black out and I can't remember where I've been or what I've done. Sometimes I wonder if I've done or said terrible things, and I can't remember. And if...if someone tells me something I've done, it doesn't even feel like me. it doesn't feel like it was me who was doing that thing. And it's so hard to feel responsible for something you don't remember. So I never feel bad enough. i feel bad, but the thing that i've done --it's removed from me. It's like it doesn't belong to me.

I don't like killing, but I'm good at it. Murder isn't so bad from a distance, just shapes popping up in my scope. Close-up work though - a garrotte around a target's neck or a knife in their heart - it's not for me. Too much empathy, that's my problem. Usually. But not today. Today is different . . .

I don't know why it's so hard for people to admit that sometimes they're just assholes who screw up because they don't expect to get caught.

I don’t mind my friends calling me “Thornes,” but the fact of people calling me “Prickly Thornes” draws the line.

If Blake Lively and Blake Lively had a baby, it’d be Sarah Elizabeth Taft.

I felt it burn all the way down my throat and into my stomach. I felt like I was dying.

I felt a lunatic’s laugh welling up inside me.

I felt absolutely nothing, and that frightened me even more than the darkness of oblivion

I feel sorry for you, Detective Esteban. Because I'm all out of patience, and you're all out of time. I'm sure we'll see each other again someday. In Hell. Save a seat for me.

If he doesn’t get here soon, I’m going to fall asleep, Susan grumbled. He loved hearing her voice in his head even when she was cranky. The thought made him smile. I’ve been keeping you up too late. Not really, she replied. I’ve always been a night owl. I just haven’t been sleeping late the way I usually do. And had had one scare after another whilst awake. Did I mention I’m still sore from digging your handsome ass up? He laughed. It was totally worth it, of course, she went on.But if we find out you’re single, I might hit you up for a nice long massage. He cursed when his body immediately responded to the image of her naked and laid out before him, waiting for him to run his hands all over her body. Now who’s flirting? Ooh, she purred. That’s so cool. Even in your thoughts, your voice deepens and gets all growly when you’re turned on. Before he could respond, she made a sound of impatience.Damn it. Now I’m turned on. He laughed, delighted that she inspired him to do so even in such grim circumstances.

If he's like any other man I've ever met, it's not my smile he's going to be looking at.

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

If I don't defend for myself, who will?

If I wanted you to understand, I would have explained it better ~ Aarush Kashyap

If he can't reach you he can't hit you If he can't hit you he can't hurt you

If he sees you in this apartment he will seriously murder you and then break up with me.  And I really, really don’t want him to break up with me, Linc.” “But murdering me, that’s all good?

If I get all that money back in the accounts and then swear it off entirely, she'll forgive me. It felt good to repeat it, besides they'd just had an amazing weekend, she still had the hots for him, she still loved him passionately. Lingering underneath that thought, though, was the other one. You're playing with fire, you're playing with fire, (see above. Repeat endlessly . . . ) The idea that Hope would forgive him when she'd given him an ultimatum so absolute was laughable. She'd follow through on her word, alright, even if she regretted it, even if she laid awake at night the rest of her life wishing she hadn't, even if IT KILLED HER, she'd still do it. That was his Hope.

If it looks like a duck, walks like a duck, quacks like a duck, you're probably in the wrong bathroom.

If it's to be, it's up to me. to which I add; If not now...then when?

If my life were a movie ... the title sequence would start out like a typical high school story, but then reveal that something's amiss. There'd be a tight shot, or piece of dialogue, or something that would make the viewer uncomfortable. Something to give them that prickly feeling. -Dez

If the price I have to pay to see Jewish children playing without an armed escort are freeways across the desert and a take-a-way on every street corner throughout the Middle East, then I’m all for it.

If this was a dream, he didn’t want to wake up.

If you don't know where you're going, any road will take you there".

If we're all aggressive, obedient solders [sic], who's going to write the poems and play the blues and go on anti-war protest marches?

If you’d saved the girl, you’d be a hero. Next time.

If we found a ticket to Disneyland would you think we should arrest Mickey Mouse?

If we were walking here together, I’d point out the carnivorous plants that grow on this spot: sundews with sticky red leaves, eating insects to sustain them because the soil is so poor. If you were with me, I’d take you to the Doubler Stones, where thousands of years ago, Neolithic peoples carved channels in the rock to drain away the blood from their sacrifices. I would show you where the plover nests, and the green hairstreak butterfly lays its eggs. I love this place. I love this land. It’s part of me, it’s part of who I am. But it’s no place for you: a seven-year-old girl in a princess costume.

If you can direct the power you call up, it can do a lot.”, FADE by Kailin Gow

If you focus your eyes towards the horizon, everything and everyone walking in front of you becomes a blurry mass. That's what everyone else became. All of their dark wool suits began to mesh into one, and they began to rhythmically march in unison, all while I gazed at the sliver of sky that seemed to be pressed tightly in between the skyscrapers. I kept on walking and staring at the sky, and I began to notice the skyscrapers becoming larger and larger, and before I knew it, I had to turn to get to my building, and of course, the automat.