Quotes About Tension

Hell," Shane spit in disgust. "I can't hit a girl. Here, Claire. You hit her." He tossed her the bat. Claire grabbed it and came to a clumsy batting stance, wishing she'd paid more attention in phys ed. Lillian screamed again and ran into the open doorway of Eve's room. Eve, coming up the stairs, screamed, too, for different reasons. "Hey! That's my room, bitch!

Myrnin was heading for Kim when she picked up a crossbow lying on a table nearby and shot him pointblank in the chest. He staggered backward, muttered, Not again

shane:is your distant cousin jack the ripper dropping in for coffee. eve:screw you collins

shane: so is world war fifteen over out there? claire:i think so

Why? Eve asked between breathless pants. she wasn't much of a runner either. Someone's coming Shane said. Shhhh. Eve choked and strangled on a cough, and muttered got to cut down on the cigarettes. you don't smoke, Claire whispered. then i'm completely screwed.

Shane's head suddenly snapped around, and he turned his whole body after it, facing Myrnin and took a step toward him. He said, in a voice tight with fury, Would that be the dead guard in our damn basement? Well, of course, how many dead guards could there be? Why, did you kill one, too? Wasteful.

Shane sat like a statue if a statue wore headphones and radiated angry coiled tension that made hair stand up on a person's arms. She felt like she was sitting next to an unexploded bomb, and given all of the physics she'd had, she understood what that meant. Talk about potential energy.

He kicked in the door with one casual blow, leaned in, and said, Please don't run. I'm not in a good mood. Better if you just sit still. He cocked his head and listened, then smiled. Ah, he said. And there he goes. You two wait here.

The two of them might as well have been alone. It was the kind of look that people in love exchanged, or people who were about to kill each other.

Shane kissed her one more time, lightly and softly, and fluffed her hair back from her face. "To be continued," he said. "I hate cliff-hangers." "Blame Eve.

Oh, come on. A vamp marrying a human gets the fanged ones all upset, and Eve made herself look like the ultimate fang-anger to all the humans by putting a ring on one, so what did you expect exactly? Flowers and parades? This is Texas. We're still figuring out how to spell tolerance.

Claire…bitch!'" Her voice sounded raw and hoarse. "You…think this…makes us…friends?'" "God, no,'" Claire said. "But I think you kinda owe me.

And you look weak as a kitten.' 'Do I?' Myrnin asked, and smiled slowly. It had a sharp edge of lunacy to it. He made a purring sound low in his throat. 'Do try to pet me, then. You can report back how sharp my claws might be, once your throat grows back.' 'Fool.' 'Narrow roundhead.' 'You thieving, insolent Taffy—' 'Enough!' Claire shouted

Why the hell is Sam Cade here in handcuffs?

Oh, like you don't throw a hissy every time somebody trips your angst switch!

That smile tells me he's not done. That we're not done.

Dash is getting very frisky in here with me, Mark. What I wanted to say was I wish Dash was getting frisky in here with me. Dash raised an eyebrow at me again. No he's not, Mark said. How do you know? Because if he was, you wouldn't be calling me to rescue you right now, Googly Eyes.

She murmured, in that particular Nancy way of hers that grates most when my inner bitch is aching to be let loose, 'Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.' My eyes popped open to see her lemon face standing over me. 'SOMEONE,' I hissed, 'HASN'T EVEN WOKEN UP YET. GOD, WHAT IS YOUR ANEURYSM? CAN'T YOU JUST LEAVE ME ALONE?

The scene is very Sopranos meets Rent.

It's that the silence hanging between us, the awkward and painful glance we share, acknowledges that I'm sitting in his seat. I start to stand up, but Ely shakes his head and gestures for me to stay seated. It's cool, he whispers. I watch him stride away to the elevator.

Marion: What is all this? What's going on? Clint: The same thing that's always going on. The end of the world.

It's difficult to spend time in any carnival or amusement park and not realize that a repressed fear of death may be the one emotion that is constant in the human heart even if, most of the time, it is confined to the unconscious as we go about our business. Thrill rides offer us a chance to acknowledge our ever-present dread, to release the tension that arises from repression of it, and to subtly delude ourselves with the illusion of invulnerability that surviving the Big Drop can provide.

En el punto donde esperanza y razón se separan reside el lugar en que la locura se dispara.

it. At intervals of forty or fifty feet, air monitors were mounted on the right-hand wall. I found no signs of tampering. If the passageway led to the cooling-tower vault, as I was sure that it must, then it would be about four hundred feet long. Twice I thought I heard something behind me. When I looked over my shoulder, nothing loomed. The third time, I refused to succumb to the urge to glance back. Irrational