Quotes About Siren

They were alone in the corridor, though the wail of the siren and the thump of emergency lights on her retinas made her shudder with adrenaline.

The stage is more beholding to love than the life of man. For as to the stage, love is ever matter of comedies and now and then of tragedies; but in life it doth much mischief, sometimes like a Siren, sometimes like a Fury.

We were in this park in Canada throwing a frisbee around, and there was a homeless guy there who swore to God I was Mick Jagger. I kept telling him I wasn't, and he kept thinking I was Jagger and wanted to play frisbee with us. Then he heard a siren coming and thought I called the cops - and he ran away!

The clock ticked with empty urgency, as though trying to catch up with the time. In the street a siren howled.

We have lingered in the chambers of the sea By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown Till human voices wake us, and we drown.4

Delicate, hauntingly uncertain music floated out of the house. Vane heard it as he walked up from the stables. The lilting strains reached him, then wrapped about him, about his mind, sinking into his senses. They were a siren's song- and he knew precisely who was singing. Halting on the graveled drive before the stable arch, he listened to the moody air. It drew him- he could feel the tug as if it was physical. The music spoke- of need, of restless frustration, of underlying rebellion.

This is nine! Nine! This is nine! Nine! This is ten! Ten! We have killed your friends! Every friend is now dead! This is six! Six! [...] Eighteen! This is now eighteen! Take cover when the siren sounds! This is four! Four! [...] Five! This is five! Ignore the siren! Even if you leave this room, you can never leave this room! Eight! This is eight! [...] Six!' the phone screamed. ' Six, this is six, this is goddam fucking SIX!

The gulls swept over Dover. They sailed out like flakes of the fog, and tacked back towards the hidden town, while the siren mourned with them: other ships replied, a whole wake lifted up their voices—for whose death?

On the seven worlds where the Siren once played a role For each fragment my heir must pay a toll To once again make the Siren whole

Seek the Seven Shards of the Siren's Soul On the seven worlds where the Siren once played a role For each fragment my heir must pay a toll To once again make the Siren whole

Ten cuidado con tus sueños: son la sirena de las almas. Ella canta. Nos llama. La seguimos y jamás retornamos.

I know the odds are against us. I know she's a siren. I know she's eaten people. I know she's five thousand years older than me. But I really like her.

So Hermione was the siren, and Lucy was the trusty friend, and all was right with the world. Or if not right, then at least quite predictable.

I sing your restless longing for the statue, your fear of the feelings that await you in the street. I sing the small sea siren who sings to you, riding her bicycle of corals and conches. But above all I sing a common thought that joins us in the dark and golden hours. The light that blinds our eyes is not art. Rather it is love, friendship, crossed swords.

Italy's siren call lures us more and more.

He nodded. A police or French siren went off. The French have a different siren than we do—more insistent, horrible, like the love child of a cheap car alarm and the wrong-answer buzzer on Family Feud. We let it shatter our silence and waited for it to fade away. I

Those things gave us enough, more than enough, for a search warrant. One of those steel-ram, siren blaring, you're-so-totally-fucked raids that every copper loves more than anything, me included.

We should invest in healthcare... We can and we should do all of this without succumbing to the siren song of big government.

The patron saint of outlining - the bespectacled siren who sings to me from his spotless rock - is P. G. Wodehouse.

Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach? I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach. I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each. I do not think that they will sing to me.

I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each. I do not think that they will sing to me. I have seen them riding seaward on the waves Combing the white hair of the waves blown back When the wind blows the water white and black. We have lingered in the chambers of the sea By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown Till human voices wake us, and we drown.

Tanned, toned, curves in the right places and that small waist…lips, hair, eyes all packaged up like a siren. If she's a siren, I heard her call, and I'm diving in hook, line, and sinker. - Drew Donovan

Redd turned to her assassins. "What is it I always say?" The Cat, Sacrenoir, and the others bandied uncertain glances about. "Don't be stupid?" ventured Alistaire. "I should kill you now?" offered The Cat. "Do I have to murder everyone myself?" tried Siren. "No, idiots! When in doubt, go for the head. That's what I always say.

She reached out her arms to Blackie. The beautiful siren was calling her weary sailor safely to port.