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Thriller Quotes

Browse 1433 quotes about Thriller.

Thriller Quotes

“He reached the ground floor and flung the door open, fleeing into the street. He glanced back and saw that she wasn't following, so he slowed to a halt. His pulse raced. The entranceway was dark, the door swinging slowly closed. Movement to his left caught his attention: the camera on the corner of the building that covered the resident's parking. It swivelled to point directly at him, and he stared at it for a moment, suddenly doubtful it was a closed-circuit system after all. He ran for his car, and the camera followed.”

“Dawn cackles as she guides me through the all-glass porch. Thinner, paler Reina shuffles about behind Dawn, watching as I slip my boots off. Although she tries to hide her hands, her fingers flicker nervously. I place my boots neatly on the floor of the porch beside the other pairs in the shadows under the coats. Music drifts through to us from a distant room – it’s the Beach Boys’ California Dreamin’. Dawn looks at me and I smile – they’ve put the record on for me. Dawn nods along happily. ‘Hear you’re a surfer boy!’ she says and she mimics riding a wave.”

“You see, these creatures, these… Bigfoots… as big and as strong as they are… they’re also more intelligent than people. Do you know why?" "Um, no. Why?" asked Carter. "Because they fear God more than they fear man." Said James, his eyes filled with conviction.”

“But the knocking continued, louder now, insistent. Knock, knock, knock! She turned, heart pounding, and looked towards the trees. There, in the darkness, she saw two sets of gleaming eyes, crimson orbs watching her with an intensity that sent a fresh wave of terror through her body.”

“As he stood at the edge of the forest, his nostrils were suddenly assaulted by an indescribable stench. The smell was like nothing he had ever encountered before—as if the air itself had been tainted by rot and decay. It reminded him of the times he had accidentally left meat out in the sun for too long, except a hundred times worse. His eyes began to water, and his stomach churned with nausea. He doubled over, gripping his stomach tightly as his body heaved uncontrollably. The acrid taste of bile rose up his throat and spilled out of his mouth, landing in a puddle on the ground in front of him. There goes my morning coffee, thought Carter as he wiped his mouth with his sleeve and gasped for fresh air.”

“IT IS SAID that time is unrelated to everything else. It goes on and on, unnoticing of our actions, our falls, our triumphs. Who’s to care then, if time does not remember us? It flies by, fleeting, inattentive and disinterested in any occupants of this earth. What are we, then, if time thinks so little of everyone it passes? Time is truly apathetic to the many to whom a little empathy would mean so much. ~April~ Disarming Reign of Blood”

“Like many, he’d been watching the country tear itself apart over Brexit and whilst he’d never had any real interest in politics, it was fairly clear that the growing social tension was not only fuelling resentment and division, it was creating a political vacuum. If Billy knew one thing, it’s that any kind of vacuum equalled opportunity and whilst he had no idea how that might manifest itself, he’d suspected that working with the veterans and having a group of lads at his beck and call might well prove advantageous at some point. All he had to do was make sure that whatever form that opportunity might take, he had to be ready to grab it with both hands when the time came.”

“Sometimes fate is like a small sandstorm that keeps changing directions. You change direction but the sandstorm chases you. You turn again, but the storm adjusts. Over and over you play this out, like some ominous dance with death just before dawn. Why? Because this storm isn't some­ thing that blew in from far away, something that has nothing to do with you. This storm is you. Something inside of you.”

“A vida não é agradável para ninguém, afinal. Pesa-nos sobre os ombros, tolhe-nos a passada. Dilacera as coisas de que gostamos e endurece-nos a alma com desgostos. Na vida não há vencedores. A vida é sobretudo perda: da juventude, do aspecto. Mas, acima de tudo perdemos o amor. Por vezes penso que não é a passagem do tempo que nos envelhece, mas o desaparecimento das pessoas e das coisas de que gostamos. (...) A dor está nos nossos olhos. Os olhos que já viram demasiado traem-nos sempre.”

“The door suddenly opened. A leggy young brunette took two steps into the office and stopped short. Her brown eyes widened, she hastily excused herself and turned to leave. Pérez’s jaw dropped as he looked up at her high heels and ankles. He crawled out from under the desk and turned questioningly to his partner. Thorne didn't hesitate. He took one swift stride from behind, clamped a hand tightly over her mouth, and pulled her back into the room, disregarding her wildly flailing legs and frantic attempts to claw his hands away. He shut the door with a backward thrust of his foot. "What do we do now?" Pérez whined. "Observe." Thorne spoke calmly, as would a professor demonstrating a familiar operation to a beginner. Using both hands, he briskly snapped her neck. She stopped struggling.”

“Jimmy Allen wasn’t. And yet, he was on that map. One of the four dead men Nan had drawn JFK Jr.’s attention to. Three of those four had been scheduled to appear in front of Congress in regard to the assassination: Johnny Roselli, George de Mohrenschildt (Lee Harvey Oswald’s friend), and Carlos Prio Socarrás, one-time president of Cuba. All of them had died violently before they could testify: Roselli murdered, de Mohrenschildt and Prio by suicide. And then there was Jimmy Allen. What made him so special? What was his connection to the assassination? Why had Nan drawn JFK Jr.’s attention to him?”