Quotes About Scream

We were familiar with the line that separates grief from madness, and we know that sometimes the only way to stay on the right side of it is to scream.

In suburbia," Van Sickler said, "no one can hear you scream.

He was a Lannister of Casterly Rock, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard; no sellsword would make him scream. Sunlight ran silver along the edge of the arakh as it came shivering down, almost too fast to see. And Jaime screamed.

I watch them through the glass: specimens. Flies. I watch them. And I know. In ways normal men cannot: I know. I see thing: beyond things. I see the strands of fate that bind us: victims to victor. So let them scream; let them shout my name. My ears hear nothing but the weaving of the web.

Assail picked that moment to scream again—which

Paradise!' he screamed. 'The one and only indispensable Paradise.

My concept of a 'Doctor Who' girl was that you screamed a lot and ran around quarries in unsuitable footwear. Of course you fell over and twisted your ankle, because you had high heels on.

In school I was always being cast as the clown. And then I did 'The Exorcism of Emily Rose,' and once people hear you scream, they can't un-hear it. But I don't mean to say that I've been typecast, either.

I wrap my mind around pain till it smothers in its own scream. (101)

Everyone is folding boxes. Andrew is folding boxes. If the entire job were to fold boxes people would scream. They would fold, and sometimes scream, existentially, then be dragged into a field and beaten into a paste. Sometimes there would be a killing rampage.

I'm the guy that has written at great length about exactly how we should profoundly reform Social Security. If I were afraid of going after entitlements, I wouldn't have done that, I wouldn't have put Medicaid reform in this budget, I wouldn't have called for the reductions in spending, which people will scream about, but I think are necessary.

The joy of acting for me is to be able to experience emotions in a safe environment. You can't scream and cry in the street because everybody will look. If you do it on a movie set, you get applauded.

But I like being nasty. I like being cranky. Especially if it's a cold day in Chicago, it's nice to just take it out on Kyle, because he's so easy to scream at, you know?

I've been dead over seventy years and still when I hear a woman scream, I find myself standing, listening, wanting to help and unable to do anything except watch.

Not the scream of a startled little girl, mind you, but a manly scream: the scream of a fellow who has caught his enormous dong in a revolving door while charging

Not the scream of a startled little girl, mind you, but a manly scream: the scream of a fellow who has caught his enormous dong in a revolving door while charging in to save a baby that was on fire or something.

Jody screamed at him: a high, explosive, unintelligible expulsion of pure inhuman frustration--a Hendrix high note sampled and sung by a billion suffering souls in Hell's own choir.

Birds are and always have been reincarnated old men with Tourette's syndrome having somehow managed to dupe the reproductive saga. They fuck each other and tend to their home repairs and children while never missing their true mission. To scream at the top of their lungs in horrified hellish rage every morning at daybreak to warn us all of the truth. They know the truth. Screaming bloody murder all over the world in our ears, but sadly we don't speak bird.

Her voice would die before she ran out of rage. She could scream a hole in her throat and come unraveled, fall to pieces like moth-chewed silk, and still, from the leftover shreds of her, the little pile of tatters, would pour forth this unending scream.

It's easy to make people cry. Grief, humiliation, anger—there are countless avenues to tears. It's easy to make them scream, too. There are so many things to fear.

Your entire being can become a scream. At the edge of a hurled knife, that fast. Karou's did. She wasn't flesh and blood in that instant but only air rushing in to gather for a scream that might never end.

So Sarai gave in to the scream that night, and the dark things within her took wing. They came boiling out between her lips, and they weren't demons after all, but moths.

The despair was entire, complete as a possession, but fleeting. It released her, and was gone, but it left Karou gutted, guttered, feeling for all the world like… …a candle flame extinguished by a scream.

The scream drew others. The others screamed, too, not because a girl was dead, but because the girl was blue,