Blood Quotes

“Do not fall in love with people like me.
I will take you to museums, and parks, and monuments, and kiss you in every beautiful place, so that you can never go back to them without tasting me like blood in your mouth.
I will destroy you in the most beautiful way possible. And when I leave you will finally understand, why storms are named after people.”
― Caitlyn Siehl, Literary Sexts: A Collection of Short & Sexy Love Poems

“Stop fighting me!" he said, trying to pull on the arm he held.

He was in a precarious position himself, straddling the rail as he tried to lean over far enough to get me and actually hold onto me.

“Let go of me!” I yelled back.

But he was too strong and managed to haul most of me over the rail, enough so that I wasn’t in total danger of falling again.

See, here’s the thing. In that moment before I let go, I really had been contemplating my death. I’d come to terms with it and accepted it. I also, however, had known Dimitri might do something exactly like this. He was just that fast and that good. That was why I was holding my stake in the hand that was dangling free.

I looked him in the eye. "I will always love you."

Then I plunged the stake into his chest.

It wasn’t as precise a blow as I would have liked, not with the skilled way he was dodging. I struggled to get the stake in deep enough to his heart, unsure if I could do it from this angle. Then, his struggles stopped. His eyes stared at me, stunned, and his lips parted, almost into a smile, albeit a grisly and pained one.

"That’s what I was supposed to say. . .” he gasped out.

Those were his last words.”
― Richelle Mead, Blood Promise

“Everybody is a book of blood; wherever we're opened, we're red.”
― Clive Barker, Books of Blood: Volumes One to Three

“I didn't know that idiocy caused people to just start spontaneously bleeding from the nose.”
― Veronica Roth, Allegiant

“Fresh is better. But you've never drunk fresh blood. Have you?"
Simon raised his eyebrow in response.
"Well, aside from mine of course," Jace said. "And I'm pretty sure my blood is fan-tastic.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Glass

“Crap, are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"I'm thinking we have about fifteen vampires and no blood," Claire said. "Is that it?"

"No, I was thinking we're out of chips. Of course that's what I was thinking.”
― Rachel Caine, Feast of Fools

“I am not a Sunday morning inside four walls
with clean blood
and organized drawers.
I am the hurricane setting fire to the forests
at night when no one else is alive
or awake
however you choose to see it
and I live in my own flames
sometimes burning too bright and too wild
to make things last
or handle
myself or anyone else
and so I run.
run run run
far and wide
until my bones ache and lungs split
and it feels good.
Hear that people? It feels good
because I am the slave and ruler of my own body
and I wish to do with it exactly as I please”
― Charlotte Eriksson, You're Doing Just Fine

“All gods who receive homage are cruel. All gods dispense suffering without reason. Otherwise they would not be worshipped. Through indiscriminate suffering men know fear and fear is the most divine emotion. It is the stones for altars and the beginning of wisdom. Half gods are worshipped in wine and flowers. Real gods require blood.”
― Zora Neale Hurston, Their Eyes Were Watching God

“So--what's it like, being a vampire?"

"Aline!" Isabelle looked appalled. "You can't just go around asking people what's it like to be a vampire!"

"I don't see why," Aline said. "He hasn't been a vampire that long, has he? So he must still remember what it was like being a person." She turned back to Simon. "Does blood taste like blood to you? Or does it taste like something else now, like orange juice or something? Because I would think the taste of blood would-"

"It tastes like chicken," Simon said, just to shut her up.

"Really?" Aline looked astonished.

"He's making fun of you, Aline," said Sebastain”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Glass

“You do realize this makes your wings even more unique."
"Are you saying you shot me as a cosmetic procedure?”
― Nalini Singh, Angels' Blood

“The purpose of literature is to turn blood into ink.”
― T.S. Eliot

“And second, keep in mind that you are a weapon. In theory, when you're done with training, you should be able to kick a hole in a wall or knock out a moose with a single punch."
"I would never hit a moose," said Clary. "They're endangered.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Fallen Angels

“The road to Manderley lay ahead. There was no moon. The sky above our heads was inky black. But the sky on the horizon was not dark at all. It was shot with crimson, like a splash of blood. And the ashes blew towards us with the salt wind from the sea.”
― Daphne DuMaurier, Rebecca

“Blood is really warm,
it's like drinking hot chocolate
but with more screaming.”
― Ryan Mecum, Zombie Haiku: Good Poetry for Your...Brains

“The first morning Simon had been at Amatis's house, a grinning lycanthrope had showed up on the doorstep with a live cat for him.
"Blood," he'd said, in a heavily accented voice. "For you. Fresh!"
Simon had thanked the werewolf, waited from him to leave, and let the cat go, his expression faintly green.
"We'll you're going to have to get your blood from somewhere," said Luke, looking amused.
"I have a pet cat," Simon replied. "There's no way.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Glass

“The ink of the scholar is more holy than the blood of the martyr.”
― Anonymous, القرآن الكريم

“Option 1: Attempt to back out.

Probable result: Death after painful torture.

Option 2: Do the job and hope.

Probable result: Death but probably no torture (good)”
― Nalini Singh, Angels' Blood

“All causes shall give way: I am in blood
Stepp’d in so far that, should I wade no more,
Returning were as tedious as go o’er.”
― William Shakespeare, Macbeth

“Because no one has more thirst for earth, for blood, and for ferocious sexuality than the creatures who inhabit cold mirrors”
― Alejandra Pizarnik

“You have no finesse,” a gambler at the Silver Garter once said to him. “No technique.”

“Sure I do,” Kaz had responded. “I practice the art of ‘pull his shirt over his head and punch till you see blood.”
― Leigh Bardugo, Six of Crows

“You crushed us to build your monarchy on the backs of our blood and bone. Your mistake wasn't keeping us alive. it was thinking we'd never fight back”
― Tomi Adeyemi, Children of Blood and Bone

“It wasn’t easy looking dignified wearing a bed sheet and a purple cape.”
― Rick Riordan, The Son of Neptune

“I will bathe in your warmth ma petite. Roll you around me until my heart beats only for you. My breath will grow warm from your kiss.”
― Laurell K. Hamilton, Burnt Offerings

“I am not shy about admitting my modest talents. For example, I am happy to admit that I am better than average at clever remarks, and I also have a flair for getting people to like me. But to be perfectly fair to myself, I am ever-ready to confess my shortcomings, too, and a quick round of soul-searching forced me to admit that I had never been any good at all at breathing water. As I hung there from the seat belt, dazed and watching the water pour in and swirl around my head, this began to seem like a very large character flaw.”
― Jeff Lindsay, Dearly Devoted Dexter

“she glanced down and saw that a glove of blood covered her lower arm from the elbow to the wrist. The arm
was throbbing, stiff, and painful.
"Is this when you start tearing strips off your T-shirt to bind up my wound?" she joked.
She hated the sight of blood, especially her own.
"If you wanted me to rip my clothes off, you should have just asked." He dug into his pocket and brought out
his stele. "It would have been a lot less painful.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Bones

“You know what we call pedestrians in Morganville? Mobile bloodbanks.”
― Rachel Caine, Midnight Alley

“The blood jet is poetry,
There is no stopping it.

--from "Kindness", written 1 February 1963”
― Sylvia Plath, Ariel

“The blood you spill is the blood of kings,” seethed Dunyasha. “You are not fit for such a gift.”
[...]
Inej raised a brow and slowly wiped the blood of kings on her trousers”
― Leigh Bardugo, Crooked Kingdom

“The stuff of nightmare is their plain bread. They butter it with pain. They set their clocks by deathwatch beetles, and thrive the centuries. They were the men with the leather-ribbon whips who sweated up the Pyramids seasoning it with other people's salt and other people's cracked hearts. They coursed Europe on the White Horses of the Plague. They whispered to Caesar that he was mortal, then sold daggers at half-price in the grand March sale. Some must have been lazing clowns, foot props for emperors, princes, and epileptic popes. Then out on the road, Gypsies in time, their populations grew as the world grew, spread, and there was more delicious variety of pain to thrive on. The train put wheels under them and here they run down the log road out of the Gothic and baroque; look at their wagons and coaches, the carving like medieval shrines, all of it stuff once drawn by horses, mules, or, maybe, men.”
― Ray Bradbury, Something Wicked This Way Comes

“I figured even the most jaded and cynical inhabitant might report a bloody girl in a party dress carrying a severed head by its hair.”
― Faith Hunter, Skinwalker