Allocates Ravenous Horde Quotes

NOw he's back from the dead and he's come looking for her. Maybe he wants to get back together." (Isabelle)
"I doubt he sent a horde of demons to her house because he wants to 'get back together.'" (Alec)
"It wouldn't be my move. First the candy, then the apology letters, then the ravenous demon hordes. In that order." (Jace) ~ Cassandra Clare

I do know enough about economics and so do you to understand that the 'stimulus program' of Barack Obama and his ravenous parasitic hordes, supposedly designed to 'repair' America's broken economy, reveals him to be unimaginably stupid, gibberingly insane, or simply the biggest, most barefaced criminal thug ever to occupy the White House. And that's saying a lot. ~ L. Neil Smith

It wouldn't be my move," Jace agreed. "First the candy and flowers, then the apology letters, then the ravenous demon hordes. In that order. ~ Cassandra Clare

Greg: Scott, great horde.
My realization was that I could never *actually* live a life where I had to be constantly doing things like praising a dude's horde.
So that made me feel better about myself. ~ Jesse Andrews

The self-effacing person is soothing and gracious, while the self-promoting person is fragile and jarring. Humility is freedom from the need to prove you are superior all the time, but egotism is a ravenous hunger in a small space - self-concerned, competitive, and distinction-hungry. Humility is infused with lovely emotions like admiration, companionship, and gratitude. ~ David Brooks

And, most vivid of all, there was the dramatic epic of the rats - the scampering army of obscene vermin which had burst forth from the castle three months after the tragedy that doomed it to desertion - the lean, filthy, ravenous army which had swept all before it and devoured fowl, cats, dogs, hogs, sheep, and even two hapless human beings before its fury was spent. ~ H.P. Lovecraft

It's coming home to roost over the next 50 years or so. It's not just climate change; it's sheer space, places to grow food for this enormous horde. Either we limit our population growth or the natural world will do it for us, and the natural world is doing it for us right now. ~ David Attenborough

I was a greedy, ravenous individual, determined to rise from the bottom to the top ... It wasn't me! ~ Jack Unterweger

I've always been pretty ravenous about pop culture, highbrow and lowbrow. ~ St. Vincent

I think probably the first time I wanted to be an artist was when I was about six or seven years old. I used to get British comics and I clearly remember seeing my first American comic: an issue of 'Action Comics', with Superman on the cover with a treasure horde in a cave, and Lois saying something like 'I don't believe Superman is a miser!' ~ Dave Gibbons

In Woolrich's crime fiction there is a gradual development from pulp to noir. The earlier a story, the more likely it stresses pulp elements: one-dimensional macho protagonists, preposterous methods of murder, hordes of cardboard gangsters, dialogue full of whiny insults, blistering fast action. But even in some of his earliest crime stories one finds aspects of noir, and over time the stream works itself pure.

In mature Woolrich the world is an incomprehensible place where beams happen to fall, and are predestined to fall, and are toppled over by malevolent powers; a world ruled by chance, fate and God the malign thug. But the everyday life he portrays is just as terrifying and treacherous. The dominant economic reality is the Depression, which for Woolrich usually means a frightened little guy in a rundown apartment with a hungry wife and children, no money, no job, and desperation eating him like a cancer. The dominant political reality is a police force made up of a few decent cops and a horde of sociopaths licensed to torture and kill, whose outrages are casually accepted by all concerned, not least by the victims. The prevailing emotional states are loneliness and fear. Events take place in darkness, menace breathes out of every corner of the night, the bleak cityscape comes alive on the page and in our hearts.

("Introduction") ~ Francis M. Nevins Jr.

You are now Korwahk warriors. You serve me," she said just after Lahn thumped his chest. "You serve your golden queen," she said after Lahn, not looking back, swung a muscular arm and pointed my way before dropping it. "You know nothing now but horseflesh between your legs, steel in your grip, blood on your tongue, victory your only focus. There is no other path. You have no mother. You have no father. You have no brothers except those who wear the paint. You have only The Horde. You are The Horde. You serve me, your queen, your Horde. You will seize bounty; you will claim your bride. You will grunt and sweat and bury your seed to create warriors. You do not own your flesh; The Horde owns your flesh. You sink your blade into flesh; you do it for The Horde. You will wake up a warrior, you will sleep a warrior and you will die a warrior. ~ Kristen Ashley

And now he was holding her shoulders as what sounded like a horde of demons tried to escape hell by way of her mouth. ~ Jordan Bell

His mouth comes down on mine, harder now, more demanding, a raw, hungry need in him rising to the surface. "You belong to me," he growls. "Say it."
"Yes. Yes, I belong to you." His mouth finds mine again, demanding, taking, drawing me under his spell.
"Say it again," he demands, nipping my lip, squeezing my breast and nipple, and sending a ripple of pleasure straight to my sex.
"I belong to you," I pant.
He lifts me off the ground with the possessive curve of his hand around my backside, angling my hips to thrust harder, deeper. "Again," he orders, driving into me, his cock hitting the farthest point of me and blasting against sensitive nerve endings.
"Oh … ah … I … I belong to you."
His mouth dips low, his hair tickling my neck, his teeth scraping my shoulders at the same moment he pounds into me and the world spins around me, leaving nothing but pleasure and need and more need.
I am suddenly hot only where he touches, and freezing where I yearn to be touched. Lifting my leg, I shackle his hip, ravenous beyond measure, climbing to the edge of bliss, reaching for it at the same time I'm trying desperately to hold back. Chris is merciless, wickedly wild, grinding and rocking, pumping.
"I love you, Sara," he confesses hoarsely, taking my mouth, swallowing the shallow, hot breath I release, and punishing me with a hard thrust that snaps the last of the lightly held control I possess. Possessing me. A fire explodes low in my belly and spira ~ Lisa Renee Jones

His eyes are ravenous but his body is still tense, and so I slip my bra strap off my shoulder and motion my finger at him. He takes a deep breath, slips off his silver cross necklace, and tosses it aside. Whatever is about to happen, it seems that he does not want God around to witness it. ~ Seth King

Lori's stomach let out a growl of anticipation as she walked up Jenny's front path, the smell coming from inside was mouth-watering, and having only eating a few slices of bread she was ravenous.
Just as Lori went to knock on the door, Jenny pulled it open with a flourish. Dressed in head to toe paisley, great swathes of silk and chiffon billowed around her.
'Va va voom! You look absolutely stunning darling. Now come straight in and help me with Skippy. I'm having a little trouble getting him into the oven. ~ Bec Johnson

My mother-in-law's last night on earth, a fox crossed our path in Branford, Connecticut, as we left the hospice. We knew somehow that it was her, as I now know the ravenous hawk came to take Ficre. Do I believe that? Yes, I do. Poetic logic is my logic. I do not believe she was a fox. But I believe the fox was a harbinger. I believe that it was a strange enough occurrence that it should be heeded. Zememesh Berhe, the quick, red fox, soon passed from this life to the next. ~ Elizabeth Alexander

Can you drive it?"

"No. I can't drive a stick at all. It's why I took Andy's car and not one of yours."

"Oh people, for goodness' sake...move over." Choo Co La Tah pushed past Jess to take the driver's seat.

Curious about that, she slid over to make room for the ancient.

Jess hesitated. "Do you know what you're doing?"

Choo Co La Tah gave him a withering glare. "Not at all. But I figured smoeone needed to learn and no on else was volunteering. Step in and get situated. Time is of the essence."

Abigail's heart pounded. "I hope he's joking about that." If not, it would be a very short trip. Ren changed into his crow form before he took flight. Jess and Sasha climbed in, then moved to the compartment behind the seat. A pall hung over all of them while Choo Co La Tah adjusted the seat and mirrors.

By all means, please take your time. Not like they were all about to die or anything...

She couldn't speak as she watched their enemies rapidly closing the distance between them. This was by far the scariest thing she'd seen. Unlike the wasps and scorpions, this horde could think and adapt.
They even had opposable thumbs.

Whole different ball game.

Choo Co La Tah shifted into gear. Or at least he tried. The truck made a fierce grinding sound that caused jess to screw his face up as it lurched violently and shook like a dog coming in from the rain.

"You ~ Sherrilyn Kenyon

Ethan! What on earth are you doing?"
"Excuse us,please.It is very warm in here and my wife has begun to feel a little faint." With a smile fixed on his face,giving a series of the same brief explanation,he carried her through the crush,out the front door of the mansion,along the gravel drive to where his carriage was parked.
"Home,Jennings," he said to the coachman as a footman opened the door. "And don't spare the horses." Setting her swiftly on the carriage seat, he climbed in and took a place beside her.
"Are you insane?" Grace stared at him with disbelief as the matched pair of grays stepped into their traces and the coach jolted forward. "We can't just leave. We're the guests of honor! What will people think?"
"They will thank that I am ravenous for my wife's lovely body,and I am."
"But-"
"Another word,Grace, and I swear I will take you right here."
Her eyes widened for an instant, then she sat back on the seat of the carriage, careful to keep facing forward, casting him only an occasional sideways glance.
If his body hadn't been throbbing with such urgent need,he might have smiled. ~ Kat Martin

His beard was nonexistent, except for a carefully trimmed goatee that met his mustache on both sides of his mouth.
The overall effect was decidedly villainous. He needed a black horse and a barbarian horde to lead. That or a crew of cutthroats, a ship with blood-red sails, and some knucklehead heroine to lust after.
"Look, I've had a bad day. How about you just walk away from my Jeep?"
The volhv smiled wider, flashing even white teeth.
If he started stroking his beard, I'd have to kill him on principle."He raised his hand to his goatee.
That does it.
"Yeah. And what's with the beard and the horse mane? You look like Rent-a-Villain. ~ Ilona Andrews

Varium et mutabile! murmurs the man sagely - "A woman's privilege is to change her mind!" If the nature of his industry were such that he had to change his mind from cooking to cleaning, from cleaning to sewing, from sewing to nursing, from nursing to teaching, and so, backward, forward, crosswise and over again, from morning to night - he too would become adept in the lightning-change act. The man adopts one business and follows it. He develops special ability, on long lines, in connection with wide interests - and so grows broader and steadier. The distinction is there, but it is not a distinction of sex. This is why the man forgets to mail the letter. He is used to one consecutive train of thought and action. She, used to a varying zigzag horde of little things, can readily accommodate a few more. ~ Charlotte Perkins Gilman

Every State looks upon its neighbours as at bottom a horde of robbers, who will fall upon it as soon as they have the opportunity. ~ Arthur Schopenhauer

My ravenous gaze devouring every inch of her visage, from the gentle branching of lines that wing from her sunken eyes to a paltry splattering of freckles that mottle her bottom lip.

She smiles. ~ Ilse V. Rensburg

Levering himself over Evie's prone body, Sebastian risked a glance upward at the second-floor balcony. Bullard was gone. With a grunt of pain, Sebastian rolled to his side and searched his wife for injuries, terrified that the bullet might have struck her as well. "Evie…sweetheart…are you hurt?"
"Why did you push me like that?" she asked in a muffled voice. "No, I'm not hurt. What was that noise?"
His shaking hand brushed over her face, pushing back a tumble of hair that had fallen across her eyes.
Bemused, Evie wriggled out from beneath him and sat up.
Sebastian remained on his side, panting for breath, while he felt a hot slide of blood over his chest and waist.
People were crowding to flee the building, threatening to trample the couple on the floor. Suddenly a man came to crouch over them, having fought his way through the rushing horde.
He used his body as a bulwark to keep them from being overrun. Blinking, Sebastian realized that it was Westcliff. Dizzily Sebastian reached up to clutch at his coat. "He aimed for Evie," Sebastian said hoarsely. His lips had gone numb, and he licked at them before continuing. "Keep her safe…keep her… ~ Lisa Kleypas

I think they're being cheap with their lives, that's why. So they seem ravenous for the worst thoughts I can have. ~ Gwendoline Riley

I wouldn't be able to do anything with my vampire horde except make it run around in a herd, but it would be a very impressive herd. ~ Ilona Andrews

Do not fear the enemy, for your enemy can only take your life. It is far better that you fear the media, for they will steal your HONOR. That awful power, the public opinion of a nation, is created in America by a horde of ignorant, self-complacent simpletons who failed at ditching and shoemaking and fetched up in journalism on their way to the poorhouse. ~ Mark Twain

I thought I heard an axe chop in the woods
It broke the dream; and woke up dreaming on a train.
It must have been a thousand years ago
In some old mountain sawmill of Japan.
A horde of excess poets and unwed girls
And I that night prowled Tokyo like a bear
Tracking the human future
Of intelligence and despair. ~ Gary Snyder

Надобно смело признаться, Лира!
Мы тяготели к великим мира:
Мачтам, знаменам, церквам, царям,
Бардам, героям, орлам и старцам,
Так, присягнувши на верность - царствам,
Не доверяют Шатра - ветрам.

Знаешь царя - так псаря не жалуй!
Верность как якорем нас держала:
Верность величью - вине - беде,
Верность великой вине венчанной!
Так, присягнувши на верность - Хану,
Не присягают его орде.

Ветреный век мы застали, Лира!
Ветер в клоки изодрав мундиры,
Треплет последний лоскут Шатра…
Новые толпы - иные флаги!
Мы ж остаемся верны присяге,
Ибо дурные вожди - ветра.

14 августа 1918



Better, my Lyre, to confess it freely!
It was the great ever stirred our feelings:
masts, battle ensigns, churches, and kings,
bards, epic heroes, eagles, and elders.
Those that are pledged to the realm, like soldiers,
do not confide their Tent - to the winds.

You know the Tsar - do not toy with the hunter!
Loyalty has held us, firm as an anchor:
loyalty to greatness - to guilt - to grief,
to the great crowned guilt - loyalty unswerving!
Those that are pledged to the Khan will serve him
- their oath is not to the horde, but its chief.

We struck a fickle age, Lyre, that scatters
all to the winds! Uniforms ripped to tatters,
and the last shreds of the Tent worn thin...
New crowds ~ Marina Tsvetaeva

- No one knows why. Perhaps her mind,
ravenous, still insatiable, sensed
that to struggle with the shreds of a voice
must make her artistry subtler, more refined,
more capable of expressing humiliation,
rage, betrayal ...
- Perhaps the opposite. Perhaps her spirit
loathed the unending struggle
to embody itself, to manifest itself, on a stage whose
mechanics, and suffocating customs,
seemed expressly designed to annihilate spirit ...
- I know that in Tosca, in the second act,
when, humiliated, hounded by Scarpia,
she sang Vissi d'arte
- "I lived for art" -
and in torment, bewilderment, at the end she asks,
with a voice reaching
harrowingly for the notes,
"Art has repaid me LIKE THIS? ~ Frank Bidart

At one time or another, almost every politician needs an honest man so badly that, like a ravenous wolf, he breaks into a sheep-fold: not to devour the ram he has stolen, however, but rather to conceal himself behind its wooly back. ~ Friedrich Nietzsche

A boy's appetite grows very fast, and in a few moments the queer, empty feeling had become hunger, and the hunger grew bigger and bigger, until soon he was as ravenous as a bear. ~ Carlo Collodi

Jake, she whispered, the hot blast of her exhalation making him groan. He gave in and fisted his hands in her hair.
She opened to him at once, her body melting against his, wilting into his embrace so that it felt like his light pressure on her cheeks was all that held her upright. But her mouth was a hungry thing, her tongue diving in to tangle with his while her arms wound around his shoulders. He slanted his head to plunder her as deeply as he could, ravenous to explore every inch of her mouth.
Forget kissing. They were eating each other alive. ~ Cari Quinn

She looked at the empty page, which remained blank, apart from the small wet dots from her tears, for hours. Her mind was a turmoil of sadness, rage, fear and all those emotions that gave her inspiration. However her heart lacked the will as the empty words enclosed her soul pulling it down towards the frenzied ravenous imps that stalked hells pantry.... ~ Virginia Alison