Best 596 quotes in «demons quotes» category

Every time I stare into those eyes of yours, they shine like a mirror with the sharp edges, piercing trough every bit of my reflection. It makes me feel like a child lost in the woods. And all of a sudden I hear a song somewhere and a shiver runs down my spine. A song that I have heard somewhere before. A song that makes all my demons dance forcefully at once.

Fall in love with someone who can dance with your demons, embrace your madness, and set fire to your soul!

Fear is undoubtedly the most weakening emotion. A fearful person has no ability to protect their personal space and that includes their spiritual space.

Fighting demons is what I do; real, and those in my head.

Finally, his whole body burst into flames and as the pain became unbearable, he threw his arms in the air and screamed in agony. In his final moments, the words of the Nazarene echoed through his mind: 'My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?

For as long as I've known him, Sam has been trying to out-run his demons. But he can't see the truth. His problems - they never sleep, never take a break. They'll wear him down before he can wear them out.

For it was the light, that was flowing in her veins but not blood. Every time she was wounded, she killed the demons in the dark, rather than feeding and keeping them alive.

Harley's eyes widened in horror, and a low moan of fear escaped his mouth. The back alley was filled with a vision from Hell.

Hata hivyo, Shetani anaweza kutudanganya kupitia tamaduni zetu tulizozaliwa nazo. Utamaduni, dunia tunapoishi, ndiyo chanzo cha udanganyifu huu. Yesu Kristo alikufa msalabani ili tupate uhuru kutoka kwa Shetani. Chukua hatua sasa kwa sababu Shetani anaweza kukuteka, na kukufanya mtumwa tena.

Having answered the call, the relief far outweighed the discomfort as the heat and the thin dry air of the new word enveloped her...The demon before her - and she hadn't been told for sure that's what they were, she was taking an educated guess- had a figure pressed against him, one scaly limb securing its prey.

(...) ha! what is hope? a butterfly in a box of demons, and nothing escapes the dark untainted, a mockery of politics and greed stamped with treason and dipped in myths and force-fed brainwashing going off after a time for the grand massacre of faith, humanity, and still we search, scorched feet for life but find only fake plastic trees satirical, ludicrous, and ironic

... he could always materialise and sort things out personally. But he liked people to believe that all the bad things that happened to them were just fate and destiny. It was one of the few things that cheered him up.

He’d never heard of a demon with freckles before.

He falls asleep believing he's been robbed, not knowing that the summoning of demons is almost always unwitting.

He had been a demon for just two days, but the time when he knew what it was like to be loved seemed to exist in a hazily recalled past, to have been left behind long ago.

He is a warden for Hells Prison. A politician shoved in the guise of a devil. He doesn’t care about the Lost Souls he steals with his promises of illusion. He just wants numbers like the republicans want votes. He lives with the other Fallen and Demons in a place made especially for their kind…The city of Sin itself. Las Vegas, Nevada. They call it Wanton. I call it hell. It's certainly hot enough."-Lilith

He knelt between her legs and flicked his tongue up the length of her slick folds. And knew what heaven was when she slid her fingers into his hair, moaning his name like a prayer.

He knew a great deal of the Bible already, and he knew the Bible believed in all sorts of weird stuff. According to the Bible, God Himself was at least one-third Ghost, and that was just the beginning. You could tell the Bible believed in demons, because Jesus threw a bunch of them out of this guy. Real chuckalicious ones, too. When Jesus asked the guy who had them what his name was, the demons answered and told Him to go join the Foreign Legion. Or something like that.

He knew...there was no redemption for the damned.

He knew his vampire 'sisters' would drain the girls until they were nearly dead, then feed them some of their own blood. That’s when the turning would start - as vampire and human blood mixed - and the parched agony of the Dark Kiss began.

He leaned towards me, and I did what any reasonable person would do when facing imminent death by being eaten alive. I screamed.

Hellions to the right, Hellions to the left Hellions to the east the, Hellions to the west, above and below. The pits of hell must be empty by now for they are all here around me.~ Ana BuFaye. “Unholy Pursuit-The Devil On My Trail

Hell, it has been suggested, is other people. This has always come as a bit of a surprise to working demons, who had always thought that Hell was sticking sharp things into people and pushing them into lakes of blood and so on.

Hell’s empty because all the demons are in my head.

He locked the doors and windows and sat in the middle of a room afraid of going out there in the storm and rain, in the darkest night he had ever seen. All of a sudden there were knocks everywhere and the walls turned into the glass so that he could helplessly witness his fears approach him like the ghosts. He saw them crawling on the wall and climbing the roof staring into his eyes, in no time the walls disappeared and they stood around him laughing and consuming him one by one at a time. all he saw, in the end, was the ugly and scary faces of himself.

He looked up at the stars as the storm closed in and saw them extinguished, one-by-one, until just two remained. They glimmered and shone through gaps in the clouds like two great eyes in the darkness, burning on a demon’s face that chased him across the sea.

Her blond hair hung loose, cascading around her shoulders, and stopping over her breasts. She turned toward him, violet eyes meeting his gaze. For a moment, he lost all coherent thought.

Her demon had pursued and seduced him. She hoped he hadn’t placed too much importance on that.

Her ‘death’ was the only way for her to live.

Her heart and soul had already spoken. They wouldn’t let Lucas go.

Her smile created chaos in his heart every time and it always messed up his mind. But it was also the same thing, which every time silenced the storms and calmed down every demon inside him which always tried to tear him apart.

He slid a hand over her stomach and down to her mound. He cupped it possessively and was pleased when she sucked in a breath at her unmistakable wetness. "This is mine too." She swallowed hard again but didn't respond. More importantly, she didn't argue. But it wasn't enough. "Say it." He needed to hear the words. Needed to know she wanted him as much as he wanted her. She held his gaze, stared back at him in the mirror, her eyes dilated with arousal. "I'm yours.

He’s here! That’s Damon over there!” Because of his height, Noah had a clear shot of the man she was pointing to. But he still couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “Oh, come on,” he groaned. “A blond haired, blue-eyed demon?” He glanced at Willow just in time to catch her impish grin. “He’s adorable, isn’t he?” “Yeah, he’s friggin’ precious,” he muttered...

He's reading a book called Great Warlocks of the 18th Century, and to get this ball rolling before Dean Devlin shows up and rains on our private parade, I snort and ask, "Good book?" I forget I'm pretending to be sitting behind my two-thousand-ninety-eight-page Highlights of Modern Chemistry book, so he snorts back. "Better than yours.

He took the stairs two at a time, hoping that Verrier was in a pleasant, helpful mood. One could never be certain with a prince of Hell—they smiled when they liked you, but they supposedly smiled just before they slit your throat, too. And Severus had no idea how to spot the difference.

He unfolded his arms and moved to the side. I was fine with that. Again with the glowering, though. Seen that, done it myself. So last year.

He was not her sole companion. She had her demons, too. You can't run from them, as Lexi discovered. Changing cities doesn't help either; you carry them along inside you. You just wake up one day, fed up, and decide to snuggle with them instead. You invite them along as you go about your day, balancing them on your shoulder as you would a toddler, but with very strict conditions: You will not set fire to my hair. You will not take candy from strangers. You will not tie me up in chains while I sleep. You will behave. And Lexi's demons, allowed to come close, sat on her shoulder. They waved to the angels perched on her other shoulder and struck up a conversation with Lexi. 'What's that noise?' her demons asked, sidling close to her ear. 'Oh, that?' Lexi massaged her temples. 'It's the air whistling through the hole in my heart.' 'You're afraid,' they taunted. 'I am,' she admitted. 'Afraid of the sky falling. Afraid of the tight-rope snapping. Afraid I can't dance well enough on the edge. Afraid there are no hands to steady my body. Afraid of hands that wish to cage my heart.' 'Coward,' the demons goaded.

He was really trying to be my friend, without all the emotional baggage we both carried - mine still with me, but carefully folded in vacuum bags so they'd occupy as little room as possible and his, hangin on his shoulders like lead armor, making him slouch sometimes. And yet, as pinned down as he was, he was the one comforting me, supporting not only his weight but mine, too. It wasn't fair.

He whispered as he kissed down her neck. “I would love nothing more than to take you right here on the counter, Fire Angel, but if I’m late to meet with your grandmothers, they might just decide to throw my ass on a funeral pyre and I wouldn’t be back for three days.

He who fights with monsters might take care lest he thereby become a monster. And if you gaze for long into an abyss, the abyss gazes also into you.” (Friedrich Nietzsche)

He would give up his wings and heaven for her, a woman he loved but would never truly belong to him, a woman he could never keep. He’d fall and be banished from the only home he’d ever known, but he could never give her up. He’d keep her, enjoy her and love her as long as he could.

His appearance projected danger and reinforced the common knowledge that one did not want to piss off a demon, especially this one.

His angelic wings blackened when the dark fury assailed his mind. Summoning new strength from the unholy power that ravaged his soul, grieved to drastic levels of desperation by the tainting of the holy light within him, he combated ally and enemy alike, bent on destroying both sides in order to ensure the quelling of the dark energies there and then. For days and nights, the lone warrior bathed himself in the blood of angels and demons. And when it was over, he stood alone on contaminated land, with a contaminated soul. He was banned forever from Heaven and not even Hell had space for a creature which seemed to cherish Oblivion over Pandemonium. The dark angel, not so far removed from his former self as his superiors seemed to believe, died on the edge of the cliffs, of utter loneliness and despair.

His eyebrows raised. "And you said demons didn't know love." Guido's laugh was harsh. "Ahh, but haven't you learned by now, bestia? Demons may not be able to lie, but we never tell the truth.

His hand came out and captured her by the chin. She froze, finding it hard to breathe as he gently raised her face to meet his gaze.

His hand cupped her cheek as he lowered his head to hers. Just before their lips touched, a light knock sounded on the door.

Holy shit! Can we say unstable? Was I the only sane one around here? Well, I guess that really wasn’t setting the standard very high." -Ember, Darkness Of Light

Honest to God, I hadn’t meant to start a bar fight. “So. You’re the famous Jordan Amador.” The demon sitting in front of me looked like someone filled a pig bladder with rotten cottage cheese. He overflowed the bar stool with his gelatinous stomach, just barely contained by a white dress shirt and an oversized leather jacket. Acid-washed jeans clung to his stumpy legs and his boots were at least twice the size of mine. His beady black eyes started at my ankles and dragged upward, past my dark jeans, across my black turtleneck sweater, and over the grey duster around me that was two sizes too big. He finally met my gaze and snorted before continuing. “I was expecting something different. Certainly not a black girl. What’s with the name, girlie?” I shrugged. “My mother was a religious woman.” “Clearly,” the demon said, tucking a fat cigar in one corner of his mouth. He stood up and walked over to the pool table beside him where he and five of his lackeys had gathered. Each of them was over six feet tall and were all muscle where he was all fat. “I could start to examine the literary significance of your name, or I could ask what the hell you’re doing in my bar,” he said after knocking one of the balls into the left corner pocket. “Just here to ask a question, that’s all. I don’t want trouble.” Again, he snorted, but this time smoke shot from his nostrils, which made him look like an albino dragon. “My ass you don’t. This place is for fallen angels only, sweetheart. And we know your reputation.” I held up my hands in supplication. “Honest Abe. Just one question and I’m out of your hair forever.” My gaze lifted to the bald spot at the top of his head surrounded by peroxide blonde locks. “What’s left of it, anyway.” He glared at me. I smiled, batting my eyelashes. He tapped his fingers against the pool cue and then shrugged one shoulder. “Fine. What’s your question?” “Know anybody by the name of Matthias Gruber?” He didn’t even blink. “No.” “Ah. I see. Sorry to have wasted your time.” I turned around, walking back through the bar. I kept a quick, confident stride as I went, ignoring the whispers of the fallen angels in my wake. A couple called out to me, asking if I’d let them have a taste, but I didn’t spare them a glance. Instead, I headed to the ladies’ room. Thankfully, it was empty, so I whipped out my phone and dialed the first number in my Recent Call list. “Hey. He’s here. Yeah, I’m sure it’s him. They’re lousy liars when they’re drunk. Uh-huh. Okay, see you in five.” I hung up and let out a slow breath. Only a couple things left to do. I gathered my shoulder-length black hair into a high ponytail. I looped the loose curls around into a messy bun and made sure they wouldn’t tumble free if I shook my head too hard. I took the leather gloves in the pocket of my duster out and pulled them on. Then, I walked out of the bathroom and back to the front entrance. The coat-check girl gave me a second unfriendly look as I returned with my ticket stub to retrieve my things—three vials of holy water, a black rosary with the beads made of onyx and the cross made of wood, a Smith & Wesson .9mm Glock complete with a full magazine of blessed bullets and a silencer, and a worn out page of the Bible. I held out my hands for the items and she dropped them on the counter with an unapologetic, “Oops.” “Thanks,” I said with a roll of my eyes. I put the Glock back in the hip holster at my side and tucked the rest of the items in the pockets of my duster. The brunette demon crossed her arms under her hilariously oversized fake breasts and sent me a vicious sneer. “The door is that way, Seer. Don’t let it hit you on the way out.” I smiled back. “God bless you.” She let out an ugly hiss between her pearly white teeth. I blew her a kiss and walked out the door. The parking lot was packed outside now that it was half-past midnight. Demons thrived in darkness, so I wasn’t surprised. In fact, I’d been counting on it.

How did you… never mind. I keep forgetting you are a demon and can travel anywhere in the blink of an eye.” “And don’t you forget it. Anything you desire can be yours in a matter of moments.

How do I know you’re not the killer?” MeShack asked. A smirk plastered on Zulu’s face. “Because you would’ve been the first victim.