Best 1001 quotes in «thriller quotes» category

We all know that 97% of the money in the world doesn't exist and that's thanks to Fractional Reserve Banking, or should I say fictional reserve banking." He grinned at his own joke, his smile partly hidden by his hair, "Money is no longer attached to the Gold Standard, therefore, it isn't based on anything. So when it says, 'I promise to pay the bearer on demand ten pounds,' I have to ask, ten pounds of what?" Silence. "The world is owned by the rich shareholder, the rich superstar, the rich industrialist, the rich aristocracy." He was now marching around the stage, "It doesn't matter who or what they are, if they're rich then they own a part of the world, but they only own it because they've got lots of money. Which means they own part of the 97% of the world’s fictional money, the pretend money that only exists on a computer." He stopped abruptly and stared out at the audience, "Which means that if they cashed in their fictional nonexistent money they'd get something like this ten pound note offering to pay the bearer the sum of ten pounds of nothing." He held the note aloft, "Which means the rich have managed to buy the entire world with paper nothing that has a value of nothing and we've let them do it.

We are born. We die. Somewhere in between we live. And how we live is up to us. That’s it.

We are gathered here to send our gratitude to Pinnacle Officer Wilcox and FERTS, for our daily provision and protection from those who would seek to strike against our Vassals, our Fighters and our Internees.

We are merely a pawn in a chess game played by the nations of the world. Should we not be a bigger, more important piece in the game? Are we not all capable of playing the part of the king or queen?

We can do more for the people if they are not so aware of what we are trying to do.

We leave this life the same way that we enter it, totally alone, bereft.

We lie to protect our children, and in lying we expose them to the greatest of harms

We live in a world where the criminal has become the victim, the victim the accused, the accused the guilty, the guilty the innocent and the innocent the criminal.

Well, be careful,” she said, her words deliberate. She quickly twisted her head, as if making certain no one was behind her. When she turned back around, her green eyes were hard and filled with hate. “Because wouldn’t it be terrible if you slipped and hurt yourself?

Well, they've come a long way. To think that he now could access a secret document held in the Vatican archives, via electronic technology.

Well, that’s one way to make me feel special. I’m a find now?” FADE by Kailin Gow

Well, whatever happened here today...' he said, turning back to Popescu and donning his own sunglasses so he could discreetly cast his gaze over her figure,'...it was only the beginning.

Well, typically the state of hypnosis is perfected at the right combination of light and sound frequency when the mind completely relaxes. At this state, the mind also becomes highly suggestible, which means the word of the hypnotist becomes the new reality of the subconscious mind.

Wenn man meine Seele zeichnen könnte, wäre es irgendein wildes Gekritzel mit deutlich sichtbaren Reißzähnen.

We no longer solve problems; we just push technology. Today it’s a matter of code and software. Most of the creativity is gone. You already know you can do it. It’s just a matter of how much code and time it will take.

We’re considering it suspicious for now. Why didn’t anyone report her missing? She’d been dead for a few days.” A full week, actually. But who was counting?

We're going to isolated woods to contact aliens. What could go wrong?

We're in America; why do I have to "Press 1" for English?

We ran on the fuel of youth and hormones and ignorant arrogance, imagining we had the whole world and the workings thereof figured out.

We’re trying to rebuild society, not plunge it back into chaos.” – character quote

We see even the flames.

What are we, Charlie's Angels?

We’ve got DNA tests; we can convict someone by his saliva. Hell, if the killer had farted in that house the forensic team would probably have some gadget that could pick it up. How can the crime scenes be so clean?

What could there be in this document written by a young girl in 1917?

What do you mean, my life is at risk?" I questioned. "From one of the other professors?" "Oh, it goes much deeper than that, Freddy," he said with a half crazed, wide eyed smile. Leaning in, he whispered, "I stole something.

WEST SALEM ~ October 2011 A sudden vision, fraught with malevolence and darkness, obscured her sight. The face of a menacing figure turned from the shadows of his grisly handiwork and stared at Sorcha. Her muscles tensed. By the Goddess, could he see her? Please! No! She wanted to scream, to run, but the vision ensnared her into the horrific moment like a fly in a spider's web.

What do I think of the newly discovered Van Gogh?" It was a load of crap, but Viv couldn't say that without Professor Phillips asking questions she couldn't answer.

Whatever’s eating at you, let it go. Emotion leads to poor decisions. Poor decisions lead to scrutiny. Scrutiny is our greatest threat.” The Barn

Whatever’s eating at you, let it go. Emotion leads to poor decisions. Poor decisions lead to scrutiny. Scrutiny is our greatest threat.

Whatever’s eating at you, let it go. Emotion leads to poor decisions. Poor decisions lead to scrutiny. Scrutiny is our greatest threat.” The Barn, by Ken Cruickshank

What is a monster? Something that grows hair all over and howls? Could be. But the real monster is within, and when it comes out, it’s as fugly as you see it, or as it lets you see it.

What I saw there was my own death.

What I learned in this tragedy was the eternal lesson of good people going bad.

What is my favorite part of book one? It would have to be the last chapter because that’s when the consequences catch up to Eric and it became clear that what he considered fun and games for nearly a year almost got Tina killed.

What man didn’t join his wife on their wedding night?

What is your secret? What could you possibly know, more than 80 years after you death, that someone doesn't want us to find out?

What makes you think I’d know this woman?’ Hunter knew what he was trying to do. ‘Listen, P-Diddy . . .’ ‘D-King . . .’ ‘Whatever.

What was Dr. Mera's motive for murder? I don't need to tell that to a writer of detective novels such as yourself. You know well enough yourself that even without a motive, a murderer lives to kill.

What’s the hurry? From my experience, dead bodies don’t get any deader.

What’s the mission at hand? To save the Church? To save the pope? Uncover a menacing secret society within the Church? Eliminate the would-be assassins? Or could it be something else, something even more portentous and earth-shattering?

What was their original sin? Eve allowed her bias to sway the information by frustrating an unbiased truth in favor of a narrative she wanted to believe.

What we enjoy we enjoy, dispute is useless. ~ Aarush Kashyap

What's the best place to hide a car? In an airport long-term lot. Like where's the best place to hide a grain of sand? On the beach

What to do? Fight it or play along? Was God behind it?

What was that feeling in my chest? Regret? Regret that I'd left last night after our kiss--that I'd pulled away before he could know how much I truly wanted him.

When a group of people are forced to navigate a minefield together, everyone feels a grudging sense of comfort when someone else gets blown up. Though there may be other unseen landmines left in the ground, each death creates a safe spot. A landmine cannot explode twice in the same place. Sure, the explosion robs the survivors of a comrade. Still, each death makes everyone’s next step marginally safer. So everyone keeps walking with grief on their faces, and relief in their hearts. Their own deaths are further postponed by the end of another life.

When he unleashes on her everything falls together. Like a crick in the neck snapped into place, the boy's brain pops and is put right. It is a beautiful undoing, a beautiful becoming. He doesn't stop to think about it when the punches follow her down to the ground. He doesn't stop to notice when she goes still or when the pool of blood under her head pillows out into a great, liquid heart. He doesn't stop until he's pulled off her and he doesn't start to think again until that night, when he's back at home. For hours and hours his brain stays beautifully popped into place.

Whenever Elliot Norther’s wife was nervous she baked. With the murder of Harriet Mason, her husband’s close colleague at the Faculty, she had been unable to resist a couple of Victoria sponges. During the frenzied press speculation about the identity of the murderer, a Dundee cake had appeared, followed swiftly by a Battenberg and a Lemon Drizzle. Since news of the Wildencrust murder broke, the kitchen, dining room and study had come to resemble the storerooms of an industrial bakery, every surface heaving with the weight of sponge and cream. Yesterday, having at last been overwhelmed by the fear and rumour that swept the town, she had taken herself off to her mother’s house in Hampstead, leaving her husband to soldier on alone. When he had last seen his wife, Elliot Norther noticed that she had been putting the finishing touches to an impressive, triple-tiered wedding cake, beating a batch of royal icing into a sickly paste.

When I first studied the photographs I could not tell what she looked like or even the color of her hair. All I saw was red.

When dancing with a pit bull, it's always best to let him lead.