Thriller Quotes - Page 11

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

Otsuichi

I want to have her hands..!Morino's hands...

Otsuichi

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

Otsuichi

I hear you're quite the writer. Quite the teacher's pet.""I... I don't know what you mean.""No? Then maybe you're in for a surprise. And maybe it won't be a nice one."Kate heard her voice lashing out, braver than she felt."I don't know what you're talking about. But nothing that pertains to me is any of your business.'The match hissed again. She saw his black, black eyes flickering."You're right. How inconsiderate of me."Shaken, Kate willed her feet to move her forward."You should be more careful," Pearce said. "Anyone could find your key. Anyone could get into your cabin."Kate whirled to face him. "I have a roommate. I'm not alone.""A roommate?" And he sounded like he was smiling... a dark strange smile as if she'd said something particularly funny. "If someone wanted to get you," Pearce said slowly, and another match went out, "a roommate wouldn't stop them. They'd just get you. Wouldn't they?

Richie Tankersley Cusick

I hear you're quite the writer. Quite the teacher's pet.""I... I don't know what you mean.""No? The maybe you're in for a surprise. A maybe it won't be a nice one."Kate heard her voice lashing out, braver than she felt."I don't know what you're talking about. But nothing that pertains to me is any of your business.'The match hissed again. She saw his black, black eyes flickering."You're right. How inconsiderate of me."Shaken, Kate willed her feet to move her forward."You should be more careful," Pearce said. "Anyone could find your key. Anyone could get into your cabin."Kate whirled to face him. "I have a roommate. I'm not alone.""A roommate?" And he sounded like he was smiling... a dark strange smile as if she'd said something particularly funny. "If someone wanted to get you," Pearce said slowly, and another match went out, "a roommate wouldn't stop them. They'd just get you. Wouldn't they?

Richie Tankersley Cusick

I'll show you secrets if you stay...you'll never know if you run away...

Richie Tankersley Cusick

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.

Richie Tankersley Cusick

Luna had never been good at coping with death. After all she had gone through, she knew she should’ve been trained.But she wasn’t. She was regrettably human.

Some slight awareness in the back of her mind, beneath the pain, told her she was free.

He was far scarier than any ghost could be. He was real, and he was a monster.

He had never actually said what he hunted, only that he enjoyed it.

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

The dead pull the living down.

Joe Hill

People never think of a child as being a monster, because if they did, they would never be able to sleep at night. Children are where lies peoples hopes, dreams, innocence... Not where lies murder.

Chelsea Radojcic

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.

Matthew Williams

This isn’t how things were supposed to happen. I was supposed to be me. Not this.

I am, like you, travelling along a road of absolute uncertainty and chaos. The only truth is that one day, we will all reach the end.

Honey, you worry too much. Nothing is going to happen, I mean come on, you’re in the house of Mr. Hausefalle, the guru of home security! You’re probably safer over there than here."- House Trap, ch. 4: A Grave Mistake.

I put it to the great man [Hitchcock], the key to fictitious terror is partition or containment: so long as the Bates Motel is sealed off from our world, we want to peer in, like at a scorpion enclosure. But a film that shows the world is a Bates Motel, well, that's... the stuff of Buchloe, dystopia, depression. We'll dip our toes in a predatory, amoral, godless unive3rse, but only our toes.

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

That sure as fuck ain't no cow

I'm giving serious thought into eating yor wife” - Hannibal Lecter

Not that it was a crazy complicated skill, but operating an espresso machine during high traffic could be added to my repertoire along with card tricks and how to fire a Colt .45.(Quote taken from ARC, subject to change)

If it's to be, it's up to me.to which I add;If not now...then when?

The Devil's minions worked his treacherous plot through the hearts of men, possessing them, ruling them. These hounds of hell ran wild these days through their human hosts, working greater and greater abominations.

Eric J. Martindale

Good always has a price, Marcus. Evil comes free.

I knew then that I would devote every minute we had left together to making her happy, to repairing the pain I had caused her and returning to her what I never known how to give her. These pages will be our memory until she drows her last breath in my arms and I take her forever and escape at last to a place where neither heaven nor hell will ever be able to find us.

Carlos Ruiz Zafón

Wisdom Is The Principal Thing

Kayode Infomart

If the price I have to pay to see Jewish children playing without an armed escort are freeways across the desert and a take-a-way on every street corner throughout the Middle East, then I’m all for it.

Ray Stone

I'm always homesick for the journey,” I had once written in ink speckled script, adding almost as an afterthought, “...no matter what it may hold.

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

That is the difference between great men and small, we great are willing to do the hard things, the uncomfortable things to ensure we succeed.

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.

Not another word, not another thought, not another sniffle. If you need to pass gas, I pray you'll clench your backside and keep walking until we are certainly alone.

The tools of their trade were simple, effective things: iron knuckles, saps and the like. But the iconic tool of the scuttler arsenal was a woven leather belt with a heavy iron or brass buckle used to decrease intelligence one wallop at a time.

When John-Joseph Heller's fights became too much of a sure thing, story has it he moved on to more risky fights with grown men and even starved dogs. Though he was scarred often, he was never beaten. But as he brought each opponent to his knees, John-Joseph Heller was also growing up and his vision began to extend further than the ring.

The human brain has a natural ability, inherent in its mechanism, to work on many levels, in a process of constant promptings, in a type of self-preservation.If only humans understood...Most ignore it.

My vengeance was of a different kind. It bore no offense and no ill towards injustice. It had no emotion. Blood and Death. That's all it was." - Celeste- ALL LIGHT WILL FALL

I was fascinated by information about the Earth's magnetic field in my geological studies, and started wondering what would happen if long-overdue changes in geomagnetism manifested in modern times. I decided, working with my wife Tiane, to take these ideas further by adding a dash of adventure and dramatic twists and turns exploring how different types of people, good and bad, might react.

Victor spread his hands and beamed. “There’s a truckload of supplies sitting on a dock in Madera. We got food, medicine, and machines ready to roll. All we need is a pigheaded truck driver with giant cojones and no brains to ram the stuff past the blockade and save the day.” The pilot leaned back and put his hands behind his head. “Naturally, I thought of Abel Yeager.

A killer on the payroll isn't good for business.' Devour

LA Larkin

Dreading dusk, fearing night, praying for dawn.

Gregory J. Saunders

For several moments, Mary couldn't hear anything over the violent pounding of her pulse.

Y.S. Lee

it was unmatched life experience that bestowed in her eyes the sultry gleam that separates women from girls. although she viewed her “life experience” like bruises on a peach, men of all ages still found ways to see past the indications of damaged goods long enough to offer her a drink. hell, it was less than an hour ago that one such man called her “gothic perfection” and cried on her shoulder. her boyfriend agreed that a crazy life can “grow a girl up quick”; it was only last november that she turned seventeen.

Jake Vander-Ark

sometimes life isn’t worth the pain. i’m going for a swim. goodbye, my love.

Jake Vander-Ark

When you have to kill the same terrorist twice in one week, then there's either something wrong with your skills or something wrong with your world. And there's nothing wrong with my skills.

Jonathan Maberry

How easy would it be to let the words uncurl from my tongue and glide slowly into the space between us? Let them light up the room in bright-orange neon: Here's your answer! Here's what you need to know! It's an incredible thing to have that kind of power. To know that your words could change everything.

Jennifer Wolf Kam

If I am going to be a monster, the least I could do is be well fed!

Cristina M. Sburlea

I don't remember things. I black out and I can't remember where I've been or what I've done. Sometimes I wonder if I've done or said terrible things, and I can't remember. And if...if someone tells me something I've done, it doesn't even feel like me. it doesn't feel like it was me who was doing that thing. And it's so hard to feel responsible for something you don't remember. So I never feel bad enough. i feel bad, but the thing that i've done --it's removed from me. It's like it doesn't belong to me.

The blank sheet stares up at me, its emptiness like a slap. Those were the last words Ginny ever wrote before she and her family were murdered.

Jennifer Walkup

I look away, but we've caught each other. And I know this wasn't just a ghost story to him, even if it was to the others.

Jennifer Walkup

Did you mean what you said before? About the dead hanging around? You really believe it?

Jennifer Walkup

And when whatever happened in that barn happened, it was a moment I’ll never forget. Like a missing key slid into a dusty old lock. Click. My world opened.

Jennifer Walkup

My eyes meet his and I understand exactly what he's saying. He's my person. He's my home.

Jennifer Walkup

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?

Jennifer Walkup

I felt absolutely nothing, and that frightened me even more than the darkness of oblivion

Catrina Burgess

You killed me.” My voice was unsteady.He held me close again. “I brought you back.”“Please tell me we only have to do that once.”He whispered against my ear, “I swear I won’t kill you again. Cross my heart and hope to die.” It was a bad joke

Catrina Burgess

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

Catrina Burgess

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

It happened as it always did, swallowing her swiftly and completely. Intense. Painful. Quick, vivid colors spun beneath her eyelids. Sounds were sharp inside her skull. Fire shot up through her bones. She may have been screaming and she wouldn’t have known. There was smoke in her nose, thick and black, and she couldn’t breathe. It stung her eyes and licked at her skin. Wood and metal crashed down as skin blistered and popped and she knew this wasn’t her, knew it was someone else, someone with a bigger body, bigger boots and darker jeans, and big ol’ hands with scars on the fingers. Men’s hands. Nails blunt and dirty with oil and grease and burning and- The cars were on fire. Paper burned and curled and rags ignited, the cement floor pockmarked by flash fires. Meat withered in her nose and she realized it was her. Him. Dancing embers blackened and burned bone. He screamed and she hoped she was not. He writhed and she really hoped she was not. He was dying, dead, and-

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