Quotes About Beast

In all of us, even in good men, there is a lawless wild-beast nature, which peers out in sleep. —Socrates (469–399 BCE)

The beauty calms the beast?

Never run from one such as me, female." Her attacker didn't sound human. "You will no' get away. And we like it." His voice was guttural like a beast's, yet his accent was . . . Scottish?

Will he lose her just when he's found her? Never, he grates.  He surrenders himself to the beast inside him, the beast that will take its freedom with its teeth, drink water from the gutters, and scavenge refuse to survive.

I am Oz, the Great and Terrible, spoke the Beast, in a voice that was one great roar. Who are you, and why do you seek me?

So the Woodman raised his axe, and as the Wildcat ran by he gave it a quick blow that cut the beast's head clean off from its body, and it rolled over at his feet in two pieces.

cut the beast's head clean

I have seen the hippopotamus, both asleep and awake; and I can assure you that, awake or asleep, he is the ugliest of the works of God.

The darkness drops again but now I know That twenty centuries of stony sleep Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle, And what rough beast, its hour come round at last, Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

Why do you two have swords?" "Yes," Day asked. "Why do we?" He headed toward the door without waiting for the answer. "There is a gigantic beast rising from the lake and coming toward the hut," Gregori said, as if he'd just told them the neighbors were coming for breakfast. "We should probably stop it before it gets here.

Since this final vision discloses Christ's pure and peaceful bride in contrast to the beast's vile and violent harlot, the two women are introduced with words so similar that the parallel cannot be missed:

As though we were made for each other... Beauty and the Beast. Of course, if anyone else calls you beast, I'll rip their lugns out.

One knows one's madnesses, by and large. By and large the knowledge is vacuous. The notion of naming the beast to conquer it is the idiot optimism of psychotherapy.

Motherhood often feels like a game of guilt management; sometimes the guilt is overwhelming and debilitating, sometimes just a low simmer, but it always feels right there. There is never any shortage of fuel to feed the beast, so the whole mechanism is constantly nourished to administer shame and a general feeling of incompetency.

There was a knock at the door. It was Lumiere. The Beast bade him enter. "Is there anything else you require tonight before retiring, master?" "I - I thought we might go skating tomorrow." Lumiere's eyebrows shot up. "Skating, master? You? You've never skated in your life!" "Belle mentioned that she has skated before. Back in her village. I thought she might like to try it here. How hard can it be?" "On the backside? Very," said Lumiere.

la machine ronflait, crachait, comme une bête qu'on surmène, avec des sursauts, des coups de reins, où l'on aurait cru entendre craquer ses membres.

The will to domination is a ravenous beast. There are never enough warm bodies to satiate its monstrous hunger. Once alive, this beast grows and grows, feeding on all the life around it, scouring the earth to find new sources of nourishment. This beast lives in each man who battens on female servitude.

Talking with the mouth of a beast won't ease your pain.

Monsters are divine portents.

Werewolves are much more common animals than you might think.

Werewolves were far more terrifying than vampires. It is probably the idea of seeing the human within the beast and knowing you can't reach it. It might as well be a great white shark. There is no sitting down and discussing Proust with it, which the traditional vampire model seems to leave room for. You can have a conversation.

Fame is a beast that you can't control or be prepared for.

The beast is not dead.

Who's a big fierce monster dog? Who's a bloodthirsty hound from Hell? It's you. Yes it is.