Best 1001 quotes in «thriller quotes» category

The idea that the spirits of those once tortured in the house might still be there was the avenue his imagination began to explore. The groaning of the wood sounded like screams from the dungeon and the clunking pipes were the implements of torture. His bedcovers seemed to offer less protection than they had done in his younger years, he felt naked and at the mercy of his thoughts, and it wasn’t long before the skull he’d seen in the cellar had a face, manifested by fear and imagination.

The Internet is the biggest double-edged sword in our technological history, but it’s not going anywhere.

Their attention was focused on the strange kid who wore black eyeliner and dressed as if every day was a funeral.

The key trait of a Sperm Pirate is that she is not driven by desperation. Escaping poverty or hardship is not her motive. She usually has a good education and access to the same opportunities as the man she tries to trap. However, she understands that it is more efficient to enjoy a lavish lifestyle through the sweat of another’s labour. But the Sperm Pirate is acutely aware that the infatuation of a hormonal man has a brief shelf life. This poor collateral must be cashed in before it expires. A pregnancy is the best way to convert this volatile resource into a stable asset. Babies are reliable insurance policies. They create legal obligations for financial support, even when the sweet milk of passion turns sour.

The military operation swiftly became one of disaster management and damage control, search and rescue.

The men were smashing windows and aiming their weapons through them. The driver had opened the door and was shouting for the women and children to get out and run and hide. But Ilina realized in some vague way that he never managed to actually say the word "hide." He really said, "Women and children, get out, get out, get out! Run and..." The clerk's wife thought it was odd that he had stopped in the middle of a sentence, and even stranger that she herself knew the word, heard the word "hide" in her head when the driver stopped talking.

The mirror sighed and spoke in a tone tinged with melancholy. Its language was old and not of any of the worlds known or unknown. What you dream, what you darkly desire, Find it by trial or by fire. Seek it high and seek it low, Search the skies or the realms below. Look everywhere but beware, The deepest magic, the strongest spell Will not change what the stars foretell.

The Kahn spoke to his disfigured expert. Mal-Greb, confused at first, listened, nodded and bowed his head like the slave he was. Jani Beg momentarily seized with energy grabbed the smaller man by the shoulders and breathed into his face “Hurl them back to Hell!” The wild look in the Kahn’s eyes was something that Mal-Greb understood. And so they began.

The last vestiges of consciousness tell her she has just witnessed her own murder, all she ever was and hoped to be is gone.

The lights flickered, the pain went away, and her mother was holding her, singing ‘Sleep sweet sleep’. (The Children of Ankh series) Kim Cormack

The moon shines like a freshly unwrapped cheese ball at the holidays.” -William Harrison in Truth Insurrected: The Saint Mary Project

The moor has always been part of my life. It’s like a muse: the colours of the heather and the sky; how you can see the savagery of the wind in the way the dwarf pine trees are bent double, the bleak lines of the landscape in winter when everything save the moss and the grass are dead, stones like bones, poking through a thin skin of bilberry bushes, rushes reflected in black bog water.

The nation has been turned upside down and inside out. The country that was once discovered by people seeking religious freedom is now oppressing religious rights. It has been a slow train rumbling down the track of destruction since the 1960's. It started with the removal of the Bible from our public schools. Next the generation known as the 'love generation' opened the door for the approval of sex outside of marriage. For every ten years since then, it's been a slippery slope of materialism, I got mine, what can you do for me, and money is power. "We as a nation have stopped focusing on God and family and replaced them with money and success. Parents are teaching their children to do whatever it takes to get ahead...just don't get caught. If you do, find someone to blame it on.

Then, as she turned in a majestic arc for home, a beautiful sunrise appeared on the horizon, as golden and perfect as the very first ray of sun at the beginning of time.

The ocean drummed as loud as pulsating blood, eroding the sand, rushing the beach as if it had a point to prove. And like many things, it receded, was gone, and was replaced anew.

The one who called himself the Apostle grinned pleasingly and added his newly acquired snapshots to his dimly lit gallery. The blood red walls were almost totally covered in newspaper cuttings, glossy photographs and assorted memorabilia. Swastikas, Nazi emblems and illustrations of Hitler’s infamous henchmen adorned this section of his gallery, and their images wavered with the effects of hundreds of lit candles.

The motorcycle’s headlights cut through the darkness. Ahead the road was nothing but a black hole. She roared toward it.

The new Mrs. Ethan Baxter, I presume?” “Was there an old Mrs. Baxter?” she asked. He merely laughed.

Then headed for the kitchen. Fuck. I headed through the lounge… …just as two indistinct pitch-black masses, Kevlar laden, shotguns raised, crept ninja-like through the front door. This time, I didn't even get a bellowed warning. The lead ninja, upon seeing me, sprang forward… and crushed me face flat to the floor. That hurt. It was five long hard seconds before he eased up an iota so I could take a breath, "Hello again, Dennis. Busy night?" I managed from somewhere under his arm or knee or gun-butt. "Bean-bags or bullets?" "Bullets," said Harry. "Easy up, lads. He's scarpered…" Dennis got off of me, locked his shotgun and helped me up, "Sorry," he said. "No worries…

The one ring, to rule them all’? Sounds very far-fetched to me!

... the only difference between carnivores and plants is that the latter eat meat through ‘translator’ organisms. Maggots and bacteria ‘pre-chew’ dead animal matter, which plants then absorb as nutrients. So if eating pre-chewed food does not change the fact that a baby is human, why should a plant be any less of a carnivore because it out-sources the digestion of animal protein to organisms of decay?

The only place the broken past has in our present, is the place we give it.

The only thing that tipped her off that it was a man was his stocky build, heavy footsteps, and muscles. Muscles she'd felt when he caught up to her and threw her to the ground. Sticks and leaves from the forest floor stuck in her hair, and her breath came out in shallow gasps as she tried to regain the ability to see.

The Peacemaker Colt has now been in production, without change in design, for a century. Buy one to-day and it would be indistinguishable from the one Wyatt Earp wore when he was the Marshal of Dodge City. It is the oldest hand-gun in the world, without question the most famous and, if efficiency in its designated task of maiming and killing be taken as criterion of its worth, then it is also probably the best hand-gun ever made. It is no light thing, it is true, to be wounded by some of the Peacemaker’s more highly esteemed competitors, such as the Luger or Mauser: but the high-velocity, narrow-calibre, steel-cased shell from either of those just goes straight through you, leaving a small neat hole in its wake and spending the bulk of its energy on the distant landscape whereas the large and unjacketed soft-nosed lead bullet from the Colt mushrooms on impact, tearing and smashing bone and muscle and tissue as it goes and expending all its energy on you. In short when a Peacemaker’s bullet hits you in, say, the leg, you don’t curse, step into shelter, roll and light a cigarette one-handed then smartly shoot your assailant between the eyes. When a Peacemaker bullet hits your leg you fall to the ground unconscious, and if it hits the thigh-bone and you are lucky enough to survive the torn arteries and shock, then you will never walk again without crutches because a totally disintegrated femur leaves the surgeon with no option but to cut your leg off. And so I stood absolutely motionless, not breathing, for the Peacemaker Colt that had prompted this unpleasant train of thought was pointed directly at my right thigh. Another thing about the Peacemaker: because of the very heavy and varying trigger pressure required to operate the semi-automatic mechanism, it can be wildly inaccurate unless held in a strong and steady hand. There was no such hope here. The hand that held the Colt, the hand that lay so lightly yet purposefully on the radio-operator’s table, was the steadiest hand I’ve ever seen. It was literally motionless. I could see the hand very clearly. The light in the radio cabin was very dim, the rheostat of the angled table lamp had been turned down until only a faint pool of yellow fell on the scratched metal of the table, cutting the arm off at the cuff, but the hand was very clear. Rock-steady, the gun could have lain no quieter in the marbled hand of a statue. Beyond the pool of light I could half sense, half see the dark outline of a figure leaning back against the bulkhead, head slightly tilted to one side, the white gleam of unwinking eyes under the peak of a hat. My eyes went back to the hand. The angle of the Colt hadn’t varied by a fraction of a degree. Unconsciously, almost, I braced my right leg to meet the impending shock. Defensively, this was a very good move, about as useful as holding up a sheet of newspaper in front of me. I wished to God that Colonel Sam Colt had gone in for inventing something else, something useful, like safety-pins.

The people are just the unwitting slaves of their representative governments, the best of which are like insatiable leeches that suck the lifeblood from their populations. The people then foolishly and euphorically rejoice when the body politic belches up a modest excess of their own blood for them to take back.

The people inside the gym didn’t stand a dead drunk’s chance.

The people will act on the environment they perceive, not the one that is their reality.

The person who says it is lonely at the top has no idea what the view looks like from above. ~ Aarush Kashyap

The plant and animal kingdoms (excluding humans) offered some pleasant surprises. Organisms from these realms are much simpler to figure out. Their behaviours are not muddied by personality factors or flawed belief systems. If an insect smells like a fart, you can be sure that the stench has a genetic basis. It is neither trying to make a lofty point, nor is it suffering from an inferiority complex.

THE PLAQUE read HARVEY GOULD, P I. It was the middle of the day, but the blinds were closed. Inside a desktop sat flanked by three non-matching chairs, a creased, leather sofa and a bookcase full of fiction. A middle-aged man lay back with a pair of briefs hanging around his ankles. A gorgeous, young lady was bent over him in a pair of pink panties that stretched over her pert buttocks. Her head was bobbing up and down and her long, thick black hair swished around her neck with each bob. Harvey lay motionless, moaning.

The pope was lying fully stretched out on the floor, his body half-obscured by Cardinal Villot, who was leaning over him. Calvi's heart jumped into his throat. The pontiff 's eyes were shut, his face distorted in pain. He wasn't breathing. He was life-less, drained of color.

The Professor is coming...

The professor’s motive was in the grand scheme of things terribly petty ” Greenwood said. “"Pilate’s Cross" is inspired by the questions this terrible crime created but as a work of fiction it is set in a different place and time and has a more complex motive for the murders.

The purpose of having the orphans study all these diverse fields was not for them to just become geniuses, but to become polymaths – meaning they would be geniuses in a wide variety of fields.

The reader is the final arbiter.

There are a few rules in investigations, and one is to never cringe at the person’s appearance that you’re about to pump for info.

There are four kinds of people in the world: Those who want to profit off others without changing anything. Those who want to profit off others and would try to improve the world in so doing. Those who want to profit off of others and are willing to destroy the world to do so and finally those who don’t care to profit off others and are the inevitable victims of the other three. The trick is to know which one of these people you are.

There are creatures in this world, small things and pretty things, which burn within them a fire for survival.

The only thing my father does that isn’t illegal is breathe. He’s a criminal through and through.” -Devina (Being Bad, p. 305)

... the poor always live on debt. At this point, time is the only thing I still have the credibility to borrow.

The primitive craving for survival is universal in all things capable of dying. Now imagine if you could isolate the basic element that drives all animals to fight for survival? What would you do with it? I already had my own ideas when I started my search for an entity I eventually dubbed “The Determination Gene”.

The professor stared straight ahead. He felt Husam's eyes upon him. He clenched his hands together tightly, lest their shaking reveal everything.

There are two types of men when it comes to approaching lone pretty women in bars. The shit type and the don’t-have-the-balls-to-be-a-shit jealous type, and I was the latter and in situations like this the prey becomes the hunter and it’s all just an under-stocked meat market trading in egos, tits and shame.

There are people who kill, and people who get killed.

There is a Pirate in each of us"!

There is a place where the mountains tumble one upon the other off into the far distance, peak after treeless peak. Steep ridges connect them and deep canyons slash them apart. The grassy summits are wreathed with black sage. No roads intrude upon this jumble of oak-filled canyons and steep-sided hills, only the ambling trails made by deer, coyotes, and bears. The local Indians believe the spirits of the ancients still travel these roads.

There is good weird and good strange and bad weird and bad strange. Your Daddy is good weird and good strange.

There is no light at the end of the tunnel for us. We are who we are.

There is nothing so sexy as a good-looking man in a good-looking pair of shorts.

There are people who believe in the basic goodness of human nature. I believe in the basic evil of human nature. ~ Aarush Kashyap