Best 1001 quotes in «thriller quotes» category

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.

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

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.

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.

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.

.... 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 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.

Do it once and do it right and do it quickly

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.

Drive. He’s already dead.

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

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

Do you know how many men are incarcerated in solitary confinement? About 100,000 on any given day, if my numbers are correct. Do you know how many men commit suicide in The Hole? Very high. Twenty-four hours in a box with no windows can break a man. Some more quickly than others.

Dreema and you disagree. She cottons to Richmond, but you can't be weaned off Pelham. So I offer you a fair middle ground: relocate to northern Virginia. She transfers to the state morgue on Braddock Road, and you get to stay near your old beat.

Each government will eventually need to feed on each other when they have sucked their populations dry. And in so doing, will destroy the world one war, one treaty, one negotiation at a time.

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

Don't waste your breath/ trying to escape/ if a pure love you don't have/ no one will be saved.

Don’t worry about paying me. Stay alive, child. You must save yourself. And, whatever you do, don’t forget who you are

Do you know how you can tell if a monster's fit to walk the world again, Mr. Bishop? If they're truly redeemed and not just telling you what you want to hear? You give them a day without​ consequences, and you watch to see what thay do with it.

Dreading dusk, fearing night, praying for dawn.

Dude, don’t die out here.

Eddie made a half-turn in his seat to face her. "So, what did you think of our hosts?" She chuckled. "I think they could be not-too-distant cousins of the Addams Family." "With Paul as a fuzzy Uncle Fester," Eddie laughed.

‘Eighth one this week,’ he said.

... eloquence is merely the product of intelligence. History is not shaped by men of genius. It is shaped by men of unwavering will. Men who focus whatever brains they have on the savvy application of power. In the end, brawn will always do the heavy lifting. Brawn will always win the war.

Either I’ve got a wart on my nose they find curious, or I’ve grown a tail, Albie Merani muttered to himself. Just then he thought. I’d better get a move on, got work to do. He hurried across to some stairs, heading down deeper into station, then followed the signs to the pod station.

Emma Garcia gripped the steering wheel of the stolen pick-up truck she wished she wasn’t driving. In the entirety of her twenty-six years, she hadn’t taken as much as a piece of gum without paying for it, until today…

Empty words are like droplets of rain pattering upon the ground. It is difficult to find a single feature that distinguishes one from another.

Essentially all serial offenders experience trauma in childhood that leaves them unable to form normal emotional and psychological connections with other humans.

Eric waited all his life for love and, in meeting, Tina thought he had it. What he got wasn't quite what he'd dreamed about.

Enough with the sadness! This dream is not for cry-babies...” he said, his face beaming with a wide smile.

Entahlah. Mulanya kamu marah. Kemudian kamu lupa kamu marahkan apa. Atau kamu penat untuk menjadi marah. Atau kamu cuba bersuara tetapi tidak didengari. Begitulah.

Even in hell, there are rules.

Even in the gay spots around town, he could walk in and suddenly realize he was the only person of color in the room. He faced questions in all the eyes he greeted. What’s he doing here? Does he think he’s one of us? How ironic that even here in the nation’s self-proclaimed “gay summer capital” he should feel unwanted, excluded.

Even now I can’t describe the fear that contaminated my blood like black ink.

Everyone knows that promotions are based on your social standing, no matter what Celia says. And you have none. You’re a total nobody. Seriously, no one knows who you are. Which is just so sad because you’re, like, really great.

Every adult grew from a kid who beat the odds. But at different times, in different places, the odds have been appallingly steep.

Eventually we’ll all be living comfortably and provided for, even if caged like a poor zoo animal.

Every generation that goes into your genes is a generation of fighters, of survivors. And all those millions of lives are in you, in your blood.

Every living soul in this universe should be given a chance at love – their personal shot at having the most powerful and mysterious thing that ever existed. You could love forever, or your love could burn short and bright for just a few moments in the history of time. But however you did it, I supposed the idea was to make it count; to create a story worthy of a new fairytale, a poem, or a new constellation that would wind itself into an infinite thread of light in your name. Maybe that was the whole point of love – to create an eternal story of your own.

Every scrape, site, range and page; every game, download, hack, song, movie and virrie on the Web. Everything on your phone. Everything on your 'puta. Even the content directories of your cupboards. Almost every system has been brute-forced; passwords cracked, firewalls breached. Nothing has been left untouched.