Quotes About Vampire

Sunset was only thirty minutes gone when some pissant vampire waylaid Deacon on his way to Theriault's. One of those younger shits who wrote poetry to Mother Darkness and thought becoming a vampire would make him sparkle.

THE DEAD TRAVEL FAST

I told you, knowledge is our Holy Grail, and I daresay the wisdom possessed by the vampire would boggle your imagination. You see, we don't have political allegiances to worry about, or religion, or differing mores. We all work together for one purpose: to further our achievements and our learning.

You can be a lousy vampire. You can be a lousy human. What you are doesn't mean anything. It's what you do with what you are that counts.

I glanced at George half naked in his towel, then at Barkley, completely naked in his . . . nothing. A vampire and a werewolf. I shook my head. It was obvious. I was having one of my Anita Blake dreams again.

With a rasping cough, the vampire shakes its head. "It was you who called us. All of you, with your war. The roar of your cannons shook us from our quiet graves...

Walachia, where, Satan claimed, every man is born a poet, lives like a thief, and dies a vampire.

There are many teenage vampire books you could have purchased instead. I'm grateful you made this choice.

Who is the beauty icon that inspires you the most? Is it Sophia Loren? Audrey Hepburn? Halle Berry? Mine is Nosferatu, because that vampire taught me my number-one and number-two favorite beauty tricks of all time: avoid the sun at all costs and always try to appear shrouded in shadows.

Hugh was in prime Jackman when he played smoldering Van Helsing.

Ransom really looked at the other man for the first time, shook his head, stared again. "Holy hell, your eyes are like a fucking viper's." Venom raised an eyebrow. "You have hair prettier than one of Astaad's concubines." Ransom gave the vampire the finger. Venom grinned.

But it was the dark hunger in his tone that got to her. Damn kinky vampire had actually liked the knife. Shit .

Bluebell," she said, remembering from Erotique. "Pretty name." "I call Dmitri Dark Overlord." "Shae," Dmitri said and the female vampire rose at once to walk quickly into the house. "Now, pretty Bluebell"—another languid stroke across her skin—"tell the Overlord what you discovered.

I've never heard a man's cock described as a fang before...." "Fang, cock.... It's all sexual to a vampire." "But not to an angel. My cock serves a highly specific purpose.

As her skin sizzled under the delicious heat, she supposed she should've been giving serious thought to the lunacy of what she was doing playing with a vampire, who was, for all his charm, as lethal as a stiletto across the throat. But then again, most of her friends already thought she was half a nut short of a fruitcake. Why disappoint?

Dmitri clearly gives good . . . blood.

I'm not doing any vampire lackey stuff." "Fine." "I'm only drinking your blood." That made his smile widen. "Fine." "That means you're stuck with me." She jutted out her chin. "Try to throw me off for some bimbo and we'll see who's immortal.

So you love her still?" She found herself asking. "Who?" "The vampire. Shamiya." His hand squeezed her calf in gentle reproof."A silly question, cher. You know love cannot survive where there is no light.

Joder, Rafael... Como tenga que beber sangre, voy a dejar tu maravilloso cuerpo seco. -Elena

I carry with me a white man who is dead during the day and walks at night. He drinks the blood of the living - both animal and man. (Nancy A. Collins, Deadman's Hand)

I wondered if, now that she was a vampire, she had forgotten her connection to my world, the world of humans and of witches. I turned to Rafe. He was a sensible, intelligent vampire. Surely he could see what was going on here. "Rafe. Tell them this isn't fair. I need more time to prepare." He shrugged his elegant shoulders. "I never get involved in witch matters.

The end of the room dripped and glowed an eerie vampire-cavern red. Blood dripped onto the body below, thickly, silently, the drops absorbed by its clothes.

To emulate a vampire is to be a spectator disappearing into a spectator: we listen, talk, watch, without touching or becoming. because they glide on the margins of activity, Sandy Stone's vampires dissipate rigid structures of gender and received identity, freeing their acolytes to "celebrate the change, the passing forms.

The princess of perverted plants and the demented vampire have come to join us! How absolutely thrilling!