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Vampires Quotes

Browse 716 quotes about Vampires.

Vampires Quotes

“Kos had different tastes. He was on the lookout for that Midwestern housewife attending a conference with her husband. There was usually at least one in the hotel bar. She was always seated in a corner drinking a cocktail and pretending to read a novel while her husband was off doing manly things. Kos knew something Mason didn't—stewardesses partied in every port, but housewives were still waiting for the party.”

“I knew that coming from a family with an unhealthy social origins, things would be harder for me. Nonetheless, in my heart, hope never died. However, over time, I had learned that trying never died either. Trying was one thing I always had to do more than others, because, in the self-proclaimed society of equals, we were made to be less equal than many of the families around us.”

“Lestat: You're very anxious to be out of these rooms, aren't you? Why don't we simply get into bed together? I don't understand. David: You're serious? Lestat: Of course David: You do realize, that this is an absolutely magnificent body, don't you? I mean you aren't insensible to the fact that you've been deposited in a...a most impressive piece of young male flesh. Lestat: I looked it over well before the switch, remember? Why is it you don't want to.. David: You've been with a woman, haven't you? Lestat: I wish you hadn't read my mind. It's rude. Besides, what does that matter to you? David: A woman you loved. Lestat: I have always loved both men and women. David: That's a slightly different use of the word 'love.”

“De um lado, temos a figura do vampiro pré-riceano como a própria personificação de um Outro que é estrangeiro, alheio à nós, aos nossos costumes e valores e que, consequentemente, era construído como perigoso, antagônico, maléfico. Do outro, temos Lestat, que já se viu nesses mesmos lugares e obstinou-se a reconstruir-se para além deles.”

“Se pensarmos na Europa Oriental e na Ocidental como corpos-organismos distintos, o Deméter poderia ser então o vetor que carrega o patógeno-vampiro e o introduz no corpo deste novo hospedeiro suscetível, sem qualquer imunidade. Nem mesmo o vetor, entretanto, resiste à virulência do patógeno; ele próprio sucumbe à doença que inocularia, funcionando também como uma espécie de microcosmo do que poderia vir a acontecer caso o vampiro obtivesse sucesso em sua replicação: um cenário de desastre apocalíptico.”

“The vampire was the third theological concoction made for the culture to drink from the mixologists of religion and the main ingredient of rabies. The vampire throughout the world arose concurrently with the werewolf and its origin again stemmed from the tortures of being “zombies” tied down in the wilderness.”

“Strange faces were here. More than just the bits and pieces stolen from nature that adorned the fae in colors and wings and fangs, but things that gave me the chills. Things that didn't feel like fae, more than one feral grin in a pack of men who howled and growled, a bloodless face with more intense fangs than I had seen on any of my people so far, a woman who smelled for all the world like a human but maintained an aura of magic pressure that was anything but.”

“O lócus que tradicionalmente habita o vampiro, essencialmente noturno, também perpassa o desconhecido: não tememos a escuridão apenas devido à falta de estímulos visuais que nos priva da percepção de possíveis ameaças, mas também porque ela dá vida e amplifica nossos próprios medos, concretizando no invisível aquilo que nos perturba no íntimo. Assim, se a noite é esse “espaço-tempo em que o terror se sente à vontade”, os terrores que nas sombras me alucinam poderão ser vastamente distintos dos teus, mesmo que juntos a desbravemos.”

“When I first started following writers on social media, I imagined a deluge of profound quotes, writing tips and insights into the plight of wordsmiths. There was some of that. Mostly though, my timeline was taken up with their obsession with coffee: 'I want coffee/I'm having coffee/I've had coffee.' Then came photos of their favourite coffee mug/pot/shop/barista. So, if you've enjoyed a recently-published book, give credit to writers: the vampiric aficionados of the coffee cherry.”

“Something About Her by Stewart Stafford Her cemetery chill touch, Felt in porcelain hands, Vacant heartbeat stolen, Desert of smooth sand. Her eyes were portals, To a feral, scary land, With no outlet or relief, Automaton at her command. Yes, break the spell now, An eye blink from losing all, Just a heave and it is broken, New dawn beyond her thrall. © Stewart Stafford, 2022. All rights reserved.”

“I don't know that he said a thing. He smelled strange, I noticed that right away, not rotten like you and Roticella said, more complicated, like an apple that the wasps are flying around, musty, but autumny... I can't explain. But he hissed, and those awful red eyes, like red fire, coals. God, they were anything but dead the way they are in his picture. I could see the iris was dark brown, almost black, and the whites were bloodshot lines... The lashes were thick and Harry I just can't say this right, but the eyes, they weren't repulsive. Evil, evil, but not to turn you away. I... I couldn't stop looking at him. It was like some sort of spider sucking out all my juices. Destroying me right there on the sidewalk. 'And I felt I was going to faint, and I tried, I tried to break out of that stare of his, but I couldn't. He was drawing everything out of me - my job, that you were trying to trap him, even things about me, even personal things. Then... then he was gone. 'I was conscious of myself again, it was like I had been left hollow, worthless. I mean something of me went with him and the rest of me wanted to go with him. I'm ashamed, Harry, so ashamed...' She sobbed for a moment, then with difficulty regained her control.”

“That's enough Susy, nuff, nuff.' 'No, no I just want to say this,' she gasped, on the brink of incoherence. 'His eyes, his face, it's not ugly, and I know if I go back that he'll come and get some more of me... Even when he has drained all I know and when he... God, God, he came at me, at my throat and even then, I couldn't stop him, didn't want to even when I felt his mouth...' She reached to her throat, where her hands fluttered. Her eyes, clear and cornflower blue when they had been so serene a few minutes ago, were stark and tormented. Suddenly she buckled toward him from her propped position, sobbing. He caught her and she wept into his chest. 'And the worst thing... the worst thing... is that I want to see him again... Harry, he wanted me to take that cross off, and I did, and I've felt him wanting me now, even now, with blessed Jesus over my bed.”