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Suspense Quotes

“Hello, priest," Lord Lucian said, his voice low and velvety, yet laced with an undercurrent of menace. "How about saying hello to God for me?” Father Michael swallowed hard. “I—I’ll pray…” The congregation’s collective breath hung in the silence. Lucian’s smile was a thing of winter—beautiful, cold, and merciless. “That’s the thing, Father. I’ve studied Him for centuries without breath, and I’ve noticed something.” From-When Darkness Loves:Shadows Bleed.”

“Pahadron glanced around. “No, dear,” he leaned into the open window, "I’m simply telling you to keep away from my sources of revenue, or the payment I’ll exact from the both of you will be more than you’re able to part with in comfort.” His smile vanished, his dark eyes glittered, and his meaning was quite clear to me.”

“Not to change the subject, but…you do realize you’ve been going over the speed limit for quite a few miles? Never mind. And thank you Professor Ludefance. Somehow, I think this lecture is meant for me, but I have a lot more interchange of material and energy with my environment than most.” “In a physical sense, you’re not decaying at all, you’re a very vibrant young woman. The decay I’m speaking about for you is emotional. As for the professorship, that very lecture was given to me from a Turkish friend who had inherited a great deal of wealth and didn’t know what to do with himself. I learned this from him. As for you, you interact with your environment, but you are predatory, fearless, irritable, and listless. You’re getting no emotional feedback.” “And just where do you suggest I go to look for ‘emotional feedback,’ Mr. Professor?” “Aha. That’s the catch. You can’t. It’s not that mechanical. You merely have to be receptive and hope it comes along.” “Meanwhile, I’m being ground down by the second law of thermodynamics.” “In a sense, yes.” “Thank you so much, Professor. I never would have known.”

“Mr. Hooks?” “Mr. Ludefance? Pleasure to meet you and thank you for coming in.” As he extended his hand to me, I noticed the girl at the desk staring at my face. Hooks looked back at her staring and must have given her a look of some kind. “Mr. Ludefance, this is my secretary, Cholia.” She stood up and continued to stare at my scar. Black hair, cute face, maybe five-foot-four at the most, and a little on the plump side with rosy cheeks. Young. Very young. Looked like a teenager to me. Or was I just getting ‘older?”

“Concert pianists get to be quite chummy with dead composers. They can't help it. Classical music isn't just music. It's a personal diary. An uncensored confession in the dead of night. A baring of the soul. Take a modern example. Florence and the Machine? In the song 'Cosmic Love,' she catalogs the way in which the world has gone dark, distorting her, when she, a rather intense young woman, was left bereft by a love affair. 'The stars, the moon, they have all been blown out.”

“Desperately, I needed a reversal of fortunes. Then suddenly, I knew what I needed to do. So, I stopped at the Northside cemetery. Mom was buried there. I gave Deya another pass and left her outside the gates of the cemetery. I wasn’t certain but I didn’t want to mix my perceived notion of Deya’s Voodoo with Mom’s Ghosts, Dead Dawg, and Haints. Too many demons in the same location didn’t appear to be a smart thing. Once inside,I said what I needed to say, laid a rose, and headed back to retrieve my sweetheart. But I knew Deya. She had a fear of ghouls and hitchhikers hanging out in the graveyard. So wisely, I scanned her person for a Greek cross, miniature doll, or chicken foot in her possession. Fortunately, she passed my inspections. So, I left the graveyard, took the wheel, and got the hell out of that area in a haze.”

“2. “Salió de la habitación dispuesta a disfrutar de la velada con Emma. Se fijó en el número ocho de la puerta; lo dibujó con sus dedos. Vio que el símbolo infinito estaba implícito en el recorrido. Repitió el gesto. Años más tarde formaría parte de su ritual.” 3. “Entornó la puerta de la habitación y recorrió el perfil dorado del número ochenta y ocho con sus dedos, que coincidía con su dígito de la suerte. Repitió el mismo gesto tres veces, era su ritual cada vez que salía de aquella habitación. Para ella el ocho y el infinito estaban implícitos el uno en el otro. Se le antojaba un acto caprichoso y fetichista para cerrar esos momentos clandestinos.”

“Ten years ago, I attended a community meeting for an oil pipeline proposal PE was ramming through the environmental impact process in eastern Washington. I sat in the front row as you defended PE’s plan to destroy an important Traditional Cultural Property to build a pipeline that would bisect the state from the Canadian border to the Columbia River. You had no respect for the sovereignty of tribes over the land. Your plan lacked even basic environmental protection for air and water, but you defended it because you didn’t give a fuck about air Indians breathe or water Indians drink.”

“The government don’t need any help creatin’ Big Brother. Folks are buyin’ up that stuff all by themselves. Cameras and microphones all over the house, watchin’ and listenin’ to everything. Their whole lives played out on social media platforms.”

“dianemoorewriter.com February 11, 2015 · From Love Thy Neighbor" On journalism and news purists as well as why I pursued print instead of TV journalism/news at the No. 1 journalism school in the country: news reporters are willing to take risks "so that people can base their lives on a foundation of truth not lies. That's why I do it -- to be the one responsible voice in the crowd." Page 105' "Love Thy Neighbor”

“As she descended below the floor level of the loft, her former partner in juvenile crime was revealed to her from scuffed paniolo boots, up a long, muscled body that appeared to go on forever, to a venerable black Stetson. His cowboy look was new to her and it suited him. When she backtracked to his Hawaiian-sky blue eyes, she swayed under the impact and abruptly sat down. Any stair step would do." Noelani Beecham, Pele's Tears”