Quotes About Hunt

Hello, I'm a human. My job is to hunt things and hope that my egotism soars after I kill countless creatures that didn't stand a chance against running away, or harming me, in the first place....Also, I stink of week old carcass.

She had the feeling that she would be different from now on, that she could never go back and be the same person she had been. So who am I now? Somebody fierce, I think. Somebody who'd enjoy running through the darkness, underneath stars bright as miniature suns, and maybe even hunt deer. Somebody who can laugh and death

She tried to pray, but she had only ever prayed at night, and it seemed to her that the moons made poor protectors when angels chose to hunt by day.

I am so ready to hunt down those tiny adorable creatures and give them what for," said Emma. "SO READY." "Emma . . ." "I may even tie bows on their heads." "We have to interrogate them." "Can I get a selfie with one of them first?" "Eat your toast, Emma.

Think about it, mate: How could a species like that develop the massive technology you need to achieve faster-than-light interstellar travel, yeah? All they do is hunt and eat. They're just stupid murderlumps or killbots supreme with a side of zombie-mayonnaise. Where's the nerdy shy Predator scientist who figured out how to build a spaceship while all the big jock Predators were down the pub ripping one another's spines out, eh? Nowhere, because she don't exist.

Perhaps, if hunting had occurred, they had hunted each other through the stacks of books, sending warning shots of Shakespeare over one another's heads.

This is how an owl must look to a mouse in that last second before the talons sink into the flesh.

The friar organized a hunt. But the Alchemist was long gone -- lost among the townspeople like one bad penny melting into a puddle of lead.

Full moon rises. You change. You need what you need, so you do what you do. The kill – like the show – must go on.

The yeehaw explanation is we're too busy chasing meat'n'pussy.

When a man wants to murder a tiger he calls it sport: when the tiger wants to murder him he calls it ferocity.

Had the cub thought in man-fashion, he might have epitomized life as a voracious appetite and the world as a place wherein ranged a multitude of appetites, pursuing and being pursued, hunting and being hunted, eating and being eaten, all in blindness and confusion, with violence and disorder, a chaos of gluttony and slaughter, ruled over by chance, merciless, planless, endless.

The deer that goes too often to the lick meets the hunter at last!

Animals praise a good day, a good hunt. They praise rain if they're thirsty. That's prayer. They don't live an unconscious life, they simply have no language to talk about these things. But they are grateful for the good things that come along.

Journalists like to give themselves credit for being on the hunt for 'the truth.' But if we embrace this undoubtedly noble but somewhat haughty interpretation of a calling, we inevitably become susceptible to slam dunk answers.

If you eagerly search, you will find what you seek.

I'm so horny I have to go downtown and hunt for something to steal. It's a sexual release. You find what you want. You stalk it. You grab it and make it your own. After you've had it, you throw it away.

the hunter-lust that prodded men to kill something strange or harder to kill or bigger than any man had ever killed before.

before I drove to wherever the beast's lair was - and then pulled the pistol's foreskin back, and then enjoyed the orgasm of the crushed trigger.

already told you, we're not going bug hunting. It's a party, and Grace is like me—she won't have time to look for beetles.

The punishment for being a Jew in the Reich crossed the line into barbarism. They were being hunted down like wild animals. What made it so sickening was that it wasn't perpetrated by a bunch of ignorant half-naked savages, but the citizens of a nation renowned for its culture and intelligence that had produced men like Goethe and Beethoven.

The dogs looked sad as they were nudged from the back of the car. They were big, red brutes with kind eyes. Their ears dropped below their noses. Bloodhounds don't like to hunt man.

The day was ripe and full of promise, and he was here for a hunt

walking food source.