Quotes About Blood

What is the acceptable amount of blood for good literature?

I would like to write one of those sophisticated stories in which even though nothing much happens there's lots to write about. That can't be done in Kashmir. It's not sophisticated, what happens here. There's too much blood for good literature. Q1: Why is it not sophisticated? Q2: What is the acceptable amount of blood for good literature?

the greater blood flow to the face drained blood from the brain.)

so the smaller the patient (and his or her blood supply) the greater the effect. Members

The only answer to death is the heat and confusion of living; the only dependable warmth is the warmth of the blood.

He smiled like a cat with fresh chipmunk blood on his whiskers.

Until and unless you discover that money is the root of all good, you ask for your own destruction. When money ceases to become the means by which men deal with one another, then men become the tools of other men. Blood, whips and guns--or dollars. Take your choice--there is no other.

For this wire is as a part of our body, as a vein torn from us, glowing with our blood. Are we proud of this thread of metal, or of our hands which made it, or is there a line to divide these two?

The theory that holds good blood or bad blood as a moral-intellectual criterion , can lead to nothing but torrents of blood in practice.

And if you take away my life," she threatened, "God will give you blood to drink.

the subordinates had to behave that way; they were hiding from the victims in the hatred of them, but the hatred could not be produced in themselves except through acts of brutality. They had to batter the Jews with their rifle butts; blood had to flow from lacerated heads and crust upon faces, because it made the faces hideous, inhuman, and in this way—I am quoting Rappaport—there did not appear, in what was done, a gap through which horror might peer, or compassion.

It's the life force of angels. It's hope. It's faith. It's all those good things in life that give people the strength to get up each day and cope with what they have. It's the blood that flows through me.

Mine to you. Yours to me. Bonded by blood, by spirit and by soul, we are one. No distance too far, no enemy too powerful, no sacrifice too great. I will always find you. I will always protect you. No matter what the cost. I am yours as you are mine.

Blood is the fertilizer of freedom. Maybe yours and mine.

They were going to look at war, the red animal—war, the blood-swollen god. And they were deeply engrossed in this march.

This landscape gave him assurance. A fair field holding life. It was the religion of peace. It would die if its timid eyes were compelled to see blood. He conceived Nature to be a woman with a deep aversion to tragedy.

With the conviction came a store of assurance. He felt a quiet manhood, non-assertive but of sturdy and strong blood. He knew that he would no more quail before his guides wherever they should point. He had been to touch the great death, and found that, after all, it was but the great death. He was a man.

Doesn't blood usually follow when language fails?

I used many times to touch my own chest and feel, under its asthmatic quiver, the engine of the heart and lungs and blood and feel amazed at what I sensed was the enormity of the power I possessed. Not magical power, but real power. The power simply to go on, the power to endure, that is power enough, but I felt I had also the power to create, to add, to delight, to amaze and to transform.

She's a gorehound, a horror fiend, the more brutal the better, bring it on, faster, pussycat, kill kill kill, but that's all on-screen. And at some level she never forgets that all the blood's corn syrup.

But I believe in love, you know; love is a uniquely portable magic. I don't think it's in the stars, but I do believe that blood calls to blood and mind calls to mind and heart to heart.

The Overlook was still not done with him. Written on the mirror, not in lipstick but in blood, was a single word: REDRUM

Cut him. Cut him while I stand here and watch. I want to see the blood flow. Don't make me tell you twice.

the look of the sky as the day's blue blood runs out of its cheek.