Thriller Quotes - Page 11

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?

Ah, you big Nancy, there’s nothing to be afraid of. Seen it many times before. They come and go, boy, never change. It’s the same type from the very beginning. Nothing’s changed except the clothes and technology.

As a rule, I had murder in my mind. That day, I had it in my heart.

I had a quack in the floor. So, I had to use ductile.

He’d have denied it to his dying breath but Derwent wasn’t as tough as he pretended to be. For the very small number of people he cared about, Derwent would give his all. It made him vulnerable, and every now and then that vulnerability showed.

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.

I appreciate the gesture, but you don't have to undress in order to apologize

I turned to her, my whole body hard with tiredness and regret.

Sandy’s was one of those places that made poor, white trash feel like high-class consumers. This was the kind of place you’d take your mistress to, but never your wife. Wives expected better. Mistresses were impressed by the blandness of the over-priced wine and the vast Italian menu options.

Mark had a better chance interpreting body language at Madame Tussauds.

I'm not gonna die alone, no way! He will never allow it!

Marriage is sleeping together in a bed a little too narrow.

How can one fight for a love that acts as the enemy?

This is the beginning of a new time,” Torius said, “a great moment for us. One of us has learnt the Tongue and freed a princess. I have saved him and killed the guards. No longer will we be slaves. No longer will the guards tell us what to do. No longer will we listen. We will fight till we get what we want!”A roar exploded from the children around him.“This is a revolution,” Torius went on. “You all remember the pain that you have felt when the guards have touched you. You all know the shame we carry within us at being treated like this. No more! We will stand!

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

Simon stopped listening. He realised he'd had enough. Enough of the theories, enough of the mystery, enough of the bullshit. Enough of the soldiers and guns and MI5. Enough of bugs in phones and in people he cared about. Enough of not being cared about back. Enough of uncertainty and lies and civilisation, collapsing or not. Enough of is part in it, his place, his role; the character of Simon Parfitt and all the baggage it entailed.

Some girls are sweeter… Others have a tinge of bitterness… It is as if I can smell their souls. Their experiences and relationships are painted in warm, sour crimson.

Mrs. Reed grabbed Kayla's wrist. "Good. You haven't gotten that damned tattoo. Whatever you do, don't let them make you get it.

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.

there are men who are ancient and determined enemies of the Church of Rome who live in perpetual hope of its destruction

The stinging slap against her cheek whipped her head sideways. Her hand reflexively went to her burning face.t"I told you no," Tobe said, barely above a whisper.tDaphne had no words. He'd never so much as hinted at touching her in anger before. She now understood what stunned speechless meant.

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.

Buried and burned. Never find them. Never. Buried and buried.

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”.

You keep squintin' in Savage's dark corners, you gonna wish yourself blind.

An Abel Muranda without his wife and children would be a wandering bachelor without any dignity. He would sleep in caves and feed on wild berries. But no matter how lonely life became, he would never come to a place like this

Galton was a world renowned anthropologist back in the nineteenth century, though he was a big overshadowed by his cousin, Charles Darwin.

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

I guess you could say I'm allergic to sunlight. If I'm exposed to it, it could kill me.

The slick concrete reflected the facades of the work weary - grey, cracked and old,but more importantly, trodden upon.

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.

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

I thought part of the idea of having therapy was putting one in touch with his or her feelings. And don’t give me all that about transference, and counter-transference and all that. I know what I feel. And it has nothing to do with all that. And you also feel for me. And if you don’t know that, then maybe it’s you who needs to have therapy to gain a better knowledge of yourself.

Birds chirped and hawked in the distance. A group of them, maybe vultures, circled the sky. Rae glanced at the blanket. Those damn birds could probably smell Marissa, and the second everyone left, they'd pounce on her.

Anna, like most English speakers, thought GASP was a silly name for the project. But the name got the point across. If there were modern wonders of the world, GASP - and Kali - stood as far above them as the Colossus of Rhodes had stood above man.

Make no mistake, my darling. I am coming for you. I will take you back.

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.

Sometimes, we are so focused on what we want that we are blind to the things that make us happy. It’s just incredible, and when I focus on what is right in front of me, nothing else matters. All my worries vanish.

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

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.

.” I watched her sip at the drink some more. She was strong, healthy, but also petite enough that I was certain I could overpower her. I’d made the right decision not to tranquilize her, I thought. Slipping some powerful barbiturate into a mixed drink wasn’t something I was above, but it always felt like such a lost opportunity. I liked the fight, the tightening and clenching of a woman’s body as she writhed for freedom. I felt the slow swelling of arousal between my legs and made no effort to disguise it.

God don't give out certain.

He was an animal. Everyone knows never to corner one that's injured...even if it is just his pride.

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.

If he's like any other man I've ever met, it's not my smile he's going to be looking at.

A feeble orange light was flickering in the allotments, low down near the ground. Laura looked hopefully towards it. It was a huge pumpkin, its flesh brick-red, its mouth cut into a crude gash, candle- flame dancing through slits for eyes. There was no sign of Autumn.

A brief whiff of her mother had come through a cracked window that opened to a weed-infested courtyard. It was a fragrance that almost spoke to her, saying, 'Yes, it was an unjust end to the life of a good man.' A man who had accepted gratitude in the place of love, and who knew Magdalena's heart would always remain with Ales's father.

If we were walking here together, I’d point out the carnivorous plants that grow on this spot: sundews with sticky red leaves, eating insects to sustain them because the soil is so poor. If you were with me, I’d take you to the Doubler Stones, where thousands of years ago, Neolithic peoples carved channels in the rock to drain away the blood from their sacrifices. I would show you where the plover nests, and the green hairstreak butterfly lays its eggs. I love this place. I love this land. It’s part of me, it’s part of who I am. But it’s no place for you: a seven-year-old girl in a princess costume.

I don't know why it's so hard for people to admit that sometimes they're just assholes who screw up because they don't expect to get caught.

He brushed his lips over hers, and this time his kiss was a bit more heated than the last. She clutched onto him, deepening it until he pulled back.tHe groaned, simmering heat in his gaze. "Let's get you in the bath before I lose my head."t"Maybe after the bath you can lose it.

In music, she'd found a perfect language, a way of expressing the inexpressible.

I was such a messed up person and he was still holding on.

His shrill cries flood the forest like light engulfing a silhouette.

You can’t get the blood out.

but true love goes far deeper than that. It is an unexplainable connection of the heart, one that endures triumph and tragedy, pain and suffering, obstacles and loss. It is something that is either present or missing - there is no "almost", "in between", "most of the time." It is the unexplainable reason that some marriages entered into after one-week courtships can last a lifetime. Its absence is why "perfect" marriages fall apart. It can't be quantified or explained in science, religion, or philosophy. It can't be advised on by friends or marriage counselors who can't take their own advice. There are no rules, no how-to books, no guaranteed methods of success. It is not defined by vows or rings or promises of tomorrow. It is simply a miracle of God, that too few are blessed to experience.

I've learned that the most unbelievable is the most believable.

So? I know damn well that I didn’t poison her.”Veronica Lane, M.D., Treating Murder

Your eyes betray a sadness that only a worthy man can conjure, but never solve

Sometimes the hardest journeys are the ones that begin with little hope. But we need to take them anyway.

Regress towards progress - Dr Wannamaker