Best 1001 quotes in «thriller quotes» category

But as Max tugged him out the door a different feeling stole over him, something strange, behind the regret, deeper than the mourning. It wasn't until much later that he was able to identify it. Excitment.

But death has taken root inside you and you know it will grow, like a cancer with a voice, from now until the day it consumes you whole.

But he couldn’t risk taking the helmet off. It was the only thing saving him from the firing squad. He was no longer able to keep his thoughts silent. No longer able to squash his misgivings about what he had done.

…but his problem was infinity; his problem was time running along the x-axis versus stress running along the y-axis, and there never seemed to be time without stress. Stress was a constant.

. . .but he'd seen elite warriors go down in flames enough times to struggle with the sovereignty of God yet yield to it

But I was still determined to protect her. It might be the one good thing I would ever do in my life. I wondered if God would even notice.

But right now, I felt depressed. This must be what that postpartum shit was all about. I’d given birth to a masterpiece, and now I was bored.

But they promised us everyone would return someday…when it was safe.” Her voice cracked at the end. “You’re being stupid again. Trusting in what they say.” Disdain dripped from his words like pus from an infected wound.

But the things in the batteries couldn't be spiders. It just wasn't possible. There had to be another explanation. But of what kind?

By the time it was over, we knew the dead were the lucky ones.

‘Can’t you see what they are?’ I said. ‘They’re all dead.’

Celestra Caine, you are about to fade.” - FADE by Kailin Gow.

Concert pianists get to be quite chummy with dead composers. They can't help it. Classical music isn't just music. It's a personal diary. An uncensored confession in the dead of night. A baring of the soul. Take a modern example. Florence and the Machine? In the song 'Cosmic Love,' she catalogs the way in which the world has gone dark, distorting her, when she, a rather intense young woman, was left bereft by a love affair. 'The stars, the moon, they have all been blown out.

Competence is the most effective tool to hide madness. Black holes actually appear to be the brightest stars in sky. ~ Aarush Kashyap

Confidence is highly erotic.

Crime shows make you think every homicide will be solved thanks to a stray hair, a random skin cell. It wasn’t real. Nothing was as advanced as what we saw on TV.

Contrary to the media circus which portrayed politicians as all-powerful figures, Kentbridge knew from experience the vast majority of US Government officials – elected or otherwise – were puppets who only had the illusion of power.

Copyright Promotes Creativity by Proscribing the Right to Copy

Create a Piracy Free World fora Creative Tomorrow

Creativity is a commodity and derives its value only in how energy is spent.

Cradling her to his chest, he cursed himself for taking too much blood. He was certain he hadn't taken enough for her to need a transfusion, but it had clearly left her weak. "I'm so sorry," he whispered, glad she hadn't found the deed in his thoughts. He had feared he wouldn't be able to hide it from her. The dog began to whine again. "It's okay, boy," he murmured. "She's okay. She's just tired." Several minutes passed while he stroked her hair and held her close despite the pain it caused. She was petite and looked as though she only weighed about a hundred pounds. After spending all damned night digging his sorry ass up, no wonder she passed out. "I haven't seen it yet," she mumbled against his neck as consciousness returned, "but I'm willing to bet your ass is actually quite nice." Startled laughter escaped him, inspiring another groan. "Don't make me laugh. It hurts too much." "Sorry. I couldn't resist.

¿Cuánto miedo puedes soportar Mendhoza?

... cynicism is the only tool that can scrape away the tint off rose-coloured glasses.

Death lurked everywhere. Death was alive and well.

Dawn cackles as she guides me through the all-glass porch. Thinner, paler Reina shuffles about behind Dawn, watching as I slip my boots off. Although she tries to hide her hands, her fingers flicker nervously. I place my boots neatly on the floor of the porch beside the other pairs in the shadows under the coats. Music drifts through to us from a distant room – it’s the Beach Boys’ California Dreamin’. Dawn looks at me and I smile – they’ve put the record on for me. Dawn nods along happily. ‘Hear you’re a surfer boy!’ she says and she mimics riding a wave.

Dead. Supposedly Suicide. That's how they'll kill Michael too. Make it look like a suicide or an accident of some sort.

Death..." The voice dropped even more, black-gloved hands disappearing into the black folds of material. "Don't you feel it? We're all dead here...all...very...dead.

Deep down Kelly, I think you want me here. I think you’re too damn scared to admit you need me. And I think I’m the only one who will understand the truth.

Descendiendo el puerto de Herrera, un balcón natural se abrió ante ellos, deleitándoles con unas espectaculares vistas de las tierras que cientos de metros más abajo henchían el paisaje de miles de hectáreas de vides repletas de uva. Contempló extasiada el horizonte, disfrutando de aquella visión abrumadora y de los colores aún verdosos de los viñedos, que salpicaban el entorno y parecían regocijarse con el baño de luz crepuscular de aquella tarde de septiembre. Él le había advertido, pero aún así aquella escena superó todas sus expectativas. Lo que la sierra de Cantabria tenía ante sus pies era un precioso cuadro viviente que rebosaba vida y belleza.

Dearly beloved, avenge not yourselves, but rather give place unto wrath: for it is written, Vengeance is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord. Romans 12:19 King James Version What most people don’t seem to understand is that sometimes, He subcontracts the work! Detective-Investigator Louis Martelli, NYPD

Death was a friend to her; she was unafraid of it: bringing to to others, meeting it herself. And yet, she'd flinched from it today... What was it about that man that she just couldn't let go? Couldn't conquer the part of her heart that had loved him?

Denial. It’s the only thing that keeps most of us from losing our sanity.

Despite his elegant appearance, Mr. Gweta’s most striking asset was his alluring personality. Professor Khupe had met few such men in his life. Their warmth made everyone feel like they were their best friend. They were good men. However, they tended to be morally ambidextrous. If a stranger confessed to having been involved in a horrible crime, they would reserve judgment until they found out whether the confessor was the victim or victimizer. Once they knew, they would immediately lend their sympathies to the confessor’s position. Their worldview was simple. They supported the first person to confide in them. Such men made good lawyers.

Detective Inspector Carver took a picture from the breast pocket of his suit. He handed it to me. ‘This is what you did, Michael. Take a good look. See if it jogs your memory.’ I gawped at the mutilated corpse of a naked young girl lying on a blood-soaked double bed. Her hands were bound to the brass headboard with duct tape. Blood covered her upper body, and her long blonde hair was streaked a murderous shade of red. One eye stared at the ceiling as if searching for salvation, the other, a bloody unrecognisable pulp, bore no relation to its sightless counterpart. ‘Carla Marie Coombs. Twenty-one years of age. Do you recognise her, Michael?

Did somebody die?” “Yes,” I replied. “Who?” he asked, starting to freak out. I pulled out my notepad and asked him if he knew a Marcie Tucker. “Marcie? Hm, Marcie, it doesn't ring a bell but… Oh yeah, the temp who's filling in while my regular assistant is out, I think her name is Marcie. In fact, she was supposed to be here today. I was actually starting to worry that… Wait. Is she…” “Unfortunately yes,” I said, “Marcie was found in her apartment late last night uh… no longer alive.” My bedside manner has never been my strong suit. Dr. Taggart looked distressed and began to ramble incoherently for a minute. I let him work through it though, I figured it was his way of grieving. I wouldn't have even paid attention to it except for the fact that it was kind of goofily, ineptly… well, poignant: "Oh, uh, Oh my God. That's terrible. I uh… I hope she didn't have any family. I mean, I don't hope she didn't have any family, what I mean is, if she uh… if she didn't have any family then there would be nobody to get all bummed out about this and uh… you know, when something like this happens, you always think about the poor, heartbroken family, so uh… if she doesn't have any family then uh… the bright side would be that nobody would, you know, have to be all bummed out." Hm. I guess I never thought of it that way. Awkward wording aside, he's kind of got a point there.

Did you consider anything like the Infected?' Simon had asked. 'Not quite. But some of our other contingency plans might help us out with this particular mission.

Did you ever think it won’t be the undead who kill us, but ordinary people?

Dion lit a cigarette. "All I know is, something's up with those bastards. I can feel it.

Do I detect a renewal of your fighting spirit? I'm so glad. To tell the truth, I've been getting quite bored. Bring it on, Grace--I'm waiting for you.

DJ saw the change in his expression the moment before he dropped the ax, reached out with his gloved hand and, cupping her neck, drew her to him. “I believe you owe me a kiss.

Do me a favor, Dallas. Tell me what games we're playing today so I can be sure to play along too.

Do not be so ridiculous, I can more easily find you someone else.” Gripping the bars of his prison so strongly that the bones of his knuckles showed prominently through his pale skin, the monster growled again, “I will have no other.” Nearing the end of his patience, Klaus demanded, “Why? Why are you being so impossible?” Turning to the diminutive creature beneath the blanket, he smiled nastily, his light red eyes gleaming, “Because he wants her.

Do not lament the suffering we have to endure to fulfill the dream but rejoice in the courage with which we will face it.

.... does a fair trial necessarily amount to a fair outcome?

Đôi khi có một vực thẳm ngăn cách quá khứ và tương lai. Khi người ta đã bước đi trong thung lũng của bóng tối tử thần rồi thoát ra khỏi, vào trong ánh sáng, đó là một cuộc sống mới bắt đầu. Quá khứ sẽ chẳng giúp ích gì nữa.

Do it once and do it right and do it quickly

Don't starve an instinct with a lie on, Never hit or deceive a wounded lion. He heals faster than you can imagine And hurts even more when in famine.

Don't plant a seed just a day before you need the fruit. ~ Aarush Kashyap

Don't think. Acting isn't faking or impersonating. The clue is in the world. Acting is doing.

...Don't insult readers by questioning the extent of their imaginations. Most need only to be nudged to solve a good mystery.