Quotes About Skull

What is this heart? If I tear open that chest of yours, will I see it there? If I smash open that skull of yours, will I see it there? ~ulquiorra

The bullet is already in the brain; it won't be outrun forever, or charmed to a halt. In the end it will do its work and leave the troubled skull behind, dragging its comet's tail of memory and hope and talent and love into the marble hall of commerce. That can't be helped. But for now Anders can still make time

Temperament is fixed, set. The skull, followed by the temperament: the two hardest parts of the body. Follow your temperament. It is not a philosophy, It is a rule, like the Rule of St Benedict.

Craniul,si apoi temperamentul:cele mai solide parti din corpul omenesc.

The skull, followed by the temperament: the two hardest parts of the body.

Primero el cráneo, luego el temperamento: las dos partes más duras del cuerpo.

A good hollow bone, tapped smartly by another, can be made to emit a most satisfactory note of recognisable pitch; and the effect of tapping a row of empty skull-bones was no doubt one of musical man's earliest ghoulish delights.

All life is but a skull-bone and A rack of ribs through which we keep passing food & fuel – just so's we can burn so furious beautiful.

The brain sits snugly inside the skull, but it's not a completely flush fit - there is still a layer of fluid between bone and soft tissue that serves as a natural shock absorber. Some shocks, however, can't be absorbed, and when the head gets clobbered too hard, the brain can twist or torque or rattle around inside its skeletal casing.

I would say that hardware is the bone of the head, the skull. The semiconductor is the brain within the head. The software is the wisdom and data is the knowledge.

Webster was much possessed by deathAnd saw the skull beneath the skin.

Visually speaking, nothing calls Shakespeare to mind like Hamlet holding Yorick's skull.

Man's skull represents the same infinity for the movement of conceptions. It is equal to the universe, for in it is contained all that sees in it.

An original thought would crack your feeble skull like a thunderbolt, you craven vulture.

It is like a skull, which still has holes for eyes, but no longer sight.

a bizarre footnote, in 2010 Julia Thomas's skull was unearthed in the garden of the broadcaster and naturalist Sir David Attenborough. A team of builders discovered the skull when they were excavating foundations for an extension, at the spot where the Rising Sun once stood. In July 2011, the West London coroner Alison Thompson formally identified the skull as belonging to Julia Thomas and recorded a verdict of unlawful killing.

He sighed. 'Phrenology is where the size and shape of your skull determines whether you dunnit or not.

A man's voice filled up my head from my jawbone up to the plates of my skull. The most beautiful and saddest voice that ever was... A voice like the whole old world calling up from the bottom of the sea. The man on Madeline Brix's tape was saying he was happy, and he hoped I was happy, too.

Today I'm out wandering, turning my skull into a cup for others to drink wine from. In this town somewhere there sits a calm, intelligent man, who doesn't know what he's about to do!

To be knav'd out of our graves, to have our skulls made drinking-bowls, and our bones turned into pipes, to delight and sport our enemies, are tragical abominations escaped in burning burials.

I would never directly contradict anything Neil deGrasse Tyson says, because—compared to Neil deGrasse Tyson—my skull is a bag of hammers.

The moon had risen behind him, the color of a shark's underbelly. It lit the ruined walls, and the skin of his arms and hands, with its sickly light, making him long for a mirror in which to study his face. Surely he'd be able to see the bones beneath the meat; the skull gleaming the way his teeth gleamed when he smiled. After all, wasn't that what a smile said? Hello, world, this is the way I'll look when the wet parts are rotted.

Kaufman almost smiled at the perfection of its horror. He felt an offer of insanity tickling the base of his skull, tempting him into oblivion, promising a blank indifference to the world.

An axe struck him in the head. Pain screamed through him as shards of bone from his own skull drove into his brain. "Bastard" he snarled as he wheeled around to his attacker, a burly Ramreel with a black snout and glowing red eyes. "You fucked up my Mohawk.