Quotes About Blood

Author: Bram Stoker

there is hardly a foot of soil in all this region that has not been enriched by the blood of men, patriots or invaders.

Les joues, jusqu'ici restées colorées, devinrent livides, les yeux semblèrent jeter des étincelles venant tout droit de l'enfer, les rides qui apparurent sur le front ressemblaient aux replis des serpents de la Méduse, et la charmante bouche aux lèvres brillantes de sang s'ouvrit presque en forme de carré, comme dans ces masques grecs ou japonais qui représentent la colère.

I'm also staring at the fortune cookie. Its got a lot of blood on it and I shrug and say, as jovially as I can, Oh, you know me.

The office Halloween party was at the Royalton last week and I went as a mass murderer, complete with a sign painted on my back that read MASS MURDERER (which was decidedly lighter than the sandwich board I had constructed earlier that day that read DRILLER KILLER), and beneath those two words I had written in blood Yep, that's me.

Serena grew angry. How could that representative worry about petty price tags, when the ultimate cost was so much higher? "We will all pay—in blood—if we do not do this. We must strengthen the League and the human species.

The blood of innocents has always been the currency of charismatic leaders.

The barn by the Roulette house was jammed with wounded men. Screams, prayers, and curses made it a horrible place, with hundreds of anguished men packed together on the straw begging the surgeons to attend to them—surgeons bare-armed and fearsomely streaked and spattered with blood, piles of severed arms and legs lying by the slippery operating tables, the uproar of the battle beating in through the thin walls.

Dear dying Lamb," believers sing, "thy precious Blood Shall never lose its power, Till all the ransomed Church of God Be saved to sin no more.

Beneath the skin, kin.

The role of benefactor is worse than thankless, it's the role of a victim, Doctor, a sacrificial victim, yes, they want your blood, Doctor, they want your blood on the altar steps of their outraged, outrageous egos!

The present, due to its staggering complexities, is almost as conjectural as the past." —George Jackson "Dawn also has its terrors." —Victor Hugo "America is our country, more than it is the whites' ... we have enriched it with our blood and tears." —David Walker "My love to all who love their neighbors." —John Brown

Capitalism, too, ws forged in blood and tears; it is just that it has survived long enough to forget about much of this horror.

Blood erupted in great throbbing gouts from a severed artery at the side of his neck. His open windpipe blew clouds of red mist as he struggled to breathe.

people didn't seem to be able to remember what it was like with the elves around. Life was certainly more interesting then, but usually because it was shorter. And it was more colorful, if you liked the color of blood.

Were you proposing to shoot these people in cold blood, sergeant? Nossir. Just a warning shot inna head, sir.

Genius is always allowed some leeway, once the hammer has been pried from its hands and the blood has been cleaned up.

The only thing more dangerous then a vampire crazed with blood lust was a vampire crazed with anything else. All the meticulous single-mindedness that went into finding young women who slept with their bedroom window open got channeled into some other interest, with merciless and painstaking efficiency...

The Weatherwax women have always had one foot in shadow. It's in the blood. And most of their power comes from denying it.

The Pyramids of Tsort by moonlight!' breathed Ysabell, 'How romantic!' MORTARED WITH THE BLOOD OF THOUSANDS OF SLAVES

The whirl of images refused to remain still. The flames. Edwina. The spreading pool of Dominic's blood, glistening in the firelight.

Your blood reveal your most intimate secrets. Are you dying of leukimia or AIDS? Did you smoke cigarette or drink a glass of wine in the last few hours? Are you prozac because you're depressed, or Viagra because you can't get it up?

So there was truth to what Julian had just said, about being strange. He was not normal, and he never would be. Cast out by his own family, thrust alone into the wilderness, he'd learned to rely on himself. He had killed a man. Although that killing was in self-defense, the spilling of another's blood changes you forever, and she wondered how deeply that memory still haunted him.

He's here to take revenge. A third shot thunders and I dart toward the blackness of the bush, am almost to the perimeter wire when I stumble over something and go down on my knees. I feel warm flesh, long tangled hair. And blood. One of the blondes. Instantly I'm back on my feet, fleeing blindly into the night. Hear bells clang as my boot snags the perimeter wire. The next bullet comes so close I can hear it whistle past.