Blood Rage Quotes

The blood that is once inflamed with wine is apt to boil with rage. ~ Joseph Hall

Maybe I am fated to always be alone, Tsukuru found himself thinking. People came to him, but in the end they always left. They came, seeking something, but either they couldn't find it, or were unhappy with what they found (or else they were disappointed or angry), and then they left. One day, without warning, they vanished, with no explanation, no word of farewell. Like a silent hatchet had sliced the ties between them, ties through which warm blood still flowed, along with a quiet pulse. ~ Haruki Murakami

You infect me, body and soul, with primitive thoughts of claiming and conquering. I do not know who I am when I touch you. I am no longer civilized, I am blood and heat and lust. I barely recognize myself. ~ Penny Reid

Anything with blood in it can probably go bad. Like meat. And it's the blood that makes me worry. It carries things you don't even know you got. ~ Tim Winton

Console yourself not with the lie that your foe is weak, or stupid, or evil. Sometimes the enemy is worthy. Sometimes his cause is just. Sometimes both sides are right in their own ways-and in the hour that just causes collide, good men will rise up and leap into the fray, and the clash of their meeting will shake the heavens. And their blood will flow like rivers. ~ Holly Lisle

Impatience dries the blood sooner than age or sorrow. ~ Edwin Hubbel Chapin

Saint Antoine slept, the Defarges slept: even The Vengeance slept with her starved grocer, and the drum was at rest. The drum's was the only voice in Saint Antoine that blood and hurry had not changed. The Vengeance, as custodian of the drum, could have wakened him up and had the same speech out of him as before the Bastille fell, or old Foulon was seized; not so with the hoarse tones of the men and women in Saint Antoine's bosom. ~ Charles Dickens

Yet above all these hangs the moon as our proof, between our legs runs honey and blood. She teaches us in dreams. ~ Peter Grey

Passover is very important to God. But satan HATES Passover. The enemy has worked diligently to steal Passover away. The good news is: God is restoring Passover. But it is a battle! The battle for Passover is the battle for the Blood. Satan wants to give us a bloodless religion, because a bloodless religion has no power. The power is in the Blood! ~ Chuck Pierce

As long as people are talking instead of fighting, nobody loses very much blood - unless he happens to bite his tongue. ~ David Eddings

She had been an untamed mestiza of the so-called shopkeeper aristocracy: seductive, rapacious, brazen, with a hunger in her womb that could have satisfied an entire barracks. In a few short years, however, she had been erased from the world by her abuse of fermented honey and cacao tablets. Her Gypsy eyes were extinguished and her wits dulled, she shat blood and vomited bile, her sirens body became as bloated and coppery as a three-day-old corpse, and she broke wind in pestilential explosions that startled the mastiffs. She almost never left her bedroom, and when she did she was nude or wearing a silk tunic with nothing underneath, which made her seem more naked than if she wore nothing at all. ~ Gabriel Garcia Marquez

A root, a stem, a leaf, some means of capturing sunlight and air and making food - in sum, a plant. The green substance of this earth, the chlorophyll, is all summed up in the plants. Without them we perish, all of us who are flesh and blood. ~ Hal Borland

You know the green grifters have no argument when they start raising the 'no blood for oil' cry on the blogs. Excuse me, if Obama's make-sure-your-tires-are-properly-inflated administration would simply allow more energy production here in the U.S., that wouldn't be a problem very long, would it? ~ Howie Carr

Long patience and application saturated with your heart's blood-you will either write or you will not-and the only way to find out whether you will or not is to try. ~ Jim Tully

What always strikes me in the story of Cain and Abel is how often the word "brother" is used. Cain killed his "brother." God says it was "the blood of your brother." The killing was done to another human being, a child of God like you, breaking that sacred bond of common humanity. ~ Allan Boesak

"Do something!" I shout.
Jeb finally looks my way. "Al, we're trying."
For the first time, I get a glimpse at his face. He looks just like the little boy in the pictures at his house. Lost, tortured, haunted. The only difference is the blood on his cheek and the labret glistening beneath his lip. ~ A.G. Howard

Forward, intending to give the boy a reassuring pat on the shoulder or mutter some word of apology. He never saw the wolf, where it was or how it came at him. One moment he was walking toward Snow and the next he was flat on his back on the hard rocky ground, the book spinning away from him as he fell, the breath going out of him at the sudden impact, his mouth full of dirt and blood and rotting leaves. As he tried to get up, his back spasmed painfully. He must have wrenched it in the fall. He ground his teeth in frustration, grabbed a root, and pulled himself back to a sitting position. "Help me," he said to the boy, reaching up a hand. And suddenly the wolf was between them. He did not growl. The damned thing never made a sound. He only looked at him ~ George R R Martin

For a moment the garden, the noise, the stentch of blood and demon, vanished away, and he was alone in a soundless place with only Tessa. He wanted to run to her, wrap her in his arms. Protect her.
But it was Jem's place to do those things, not his. Not his. ~ Cassandra Clare

Jury verdicts, basketball games, and even music are enough to set off black rage, it seems, ~ Ron Paul

I could smell something. Fear.
I could taste it now.
It tasted like blood in my mouth, and I could feel it slide through me and open me up when I saw him ... ~ Markus Zusak

Xas was whiteskinned, smooth. Even his mouth was pale, more blurred than coloured, like a wine stain wiped on the mouth of a statue. But Xas was no statue. Sobran could see his blood moving, a vein in the angel's neck that pulsed, and with each pulse variations of brightness in his skin, like cloud shadows passing across a wheat field, each pass of light a surprise. Where his skin was worked, the calluses on his hands, it was the same fleshy rose as the nipples of a darkhaired girl who has never suckled a child. ~ Elizabeth Knox

You wanted to write novels, I created a novel with real people, with real blood, in reality. ~ Elena Ferrante

The problem was that, from the very beginning, Christian values were always more popular in American culture than the Christian gospel. That's why one could speak of "God and country" with great reception in almost any era of the nation's history but would create cultural distance as soon as one mentioned "Christ and him crucified." God was always welcome in American culture. He was, after all, the Deity whose job it was to bless America. The God who must be approached through the mediation of the blood of Christ, however, was much more difficult to set to patriotic music or to "Amen" in a prayer at the Rotary Club. ~ Russell D. Moore

If we are pack, then conquest is our sustenance, sister.
He plunged his hand into the coywolv's frame. With a wet tearing, the heart came out, glistening and full of blood, veins and arteries torn. The muscle of life. Tool held it out to her. "Our enemies give us strength." Blood ran from his fist. Mahlia saw the challenge in the half-man's eye.
She limped over to the battle-scarred monster and held out her hand. The heart was surprisingly heavy as Tool poured it into her palm. She lifted the muscle to her lips and bit deep.
Blood ran down her chin. ~ Paolo Bacigalupi

The land is sacred. These words are at the core of your being. The land is our mother, the rivers our blood. Take our land away and we die. That is, the Indian in us dies. ~ Mary Brave Bird

We feed the soil with our blood, our endless feuding," he said after a time. "We always have, but that does not mean we always should. I have shown that a tribe can come from the Quirai, the Wolves, the Woyela, the Naimans. We are one people, Arslan. When we are strong enough, I will make them come to me, or I will break them one at a time. I tell you we are one people. We are Mongols, Arslan. We are the silver people and one khan can lead us all."
"You are drunk, or dreaming," Arslan replied, ignoring his son's discomfort. "What makes you think they would ever accept you?"
"I am the land," Temujin replied. "And the land sees no difference in the families of our people. ~ Conn Iggulden

You know what's the rage this year? ...Hats. ~ Bill Watterson

Let me tell you, I'm not sure if America runs on donuts, but I sure do! Nothin' like a little simple sugar icing to get the blood pumping at 9:00 A.M. ~ Chris Benz

And ever since then, even though I was growing up in a land that had been tormented since the dawn of time, I refused to consider the world as a battlefield. I could see that wars beget wars, that reprisals follow reprisals, but I forbade myself to give them any support of any kind. I didn't believe in prophesies of discord, and I couldn't bring myself to accept the notion that God could incite his subjects to take up arms against one another and reduce the exercise of faith to an absurd and frightening question of power relationships.
And ever since then, I've trusted anyone who required a little of my blood to purify my soul about as much as I would trust a scorpion. I have no desire to believe in valves of tears or valleys of shadows- there are other more charming and less irrational features of the landscape all around me. My father said, "Anyone who tells you that a greater symphony exists than the breath in your body is lying. He wants to undermine your most beautiful possession: the chance to profit from every moment of your life. If you start from the principle that your worst enemy is the very person who tries to sow hatred in your heart, your halfway to happiness. All you have to do is reach out your hand and take the rest. And remember this: there is nothing, absolutely nothing, more important than your life. And your life isn't more important than other people's lives ~ Yasmina Khadra

And yet, for all this, for all that he was unparalleled in depicting tyrants knee-deep in blood, Shakespeare was a little naive. Because his monsters had doubts, bad dreams, pangs of conscience, guilt. They saw the spirits of those they had killed rising in front of them. But in real life, under real terror, what guilty conscience? What bad dreams? That was all sentimentality, false optimism, a hope that the world would be as we wanted it to be, rather than as it was. Those who chopped the wood and made the chips fly, those who smoked Belomory behind their desks at the Big House, those who signed the orders and made the telephone calls, closing a dossier and with it a life: how few of them had bad dreams, or ever saw the spirits of the dead rising to reproach them." (p 94) ~ Julian Barnes

The true light, which gives light to everyone, was coming into the world. 10He was in the world, and the world was made through him, yet o the world did not know him. 11. He came to p his own, [2] and q his own people [3] r did not receive him. 12. But to all who did receive him, s who believed in his name, t he gave the right u to become v children of God, 13who w were born, x not of blood y nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God. ~ Anonymous

I come," replied he, "to thee, Manfred, usurper of the principality of Otranto, from the renowned and invincible Knight, the Knight of the Gigantic Sabre: in the name of his Lord, Frederic, Marquis of Vicenza, he demands the Lady Isabella, daughter of that Prince, whom thou hast basely and traitorously got into thy power, by bribing her false guardians during his absence; and he requires thee to resign the principality of Otranto, which thou hast usurped from the said Lord Frederic, the nearest of blood to the last rightful Lord, Alfonso the Good. If thou dost not instantly comply with these just demands, he defies thee to single combat to the last extremity. ~ Horace Walpole

She gathered herself up- rather like collecting her skirts before mountibg a carriage ~ Gail Dayton

Cecily, Cecily. Foolish girl, to think herself enamored with a beast. She could have no conception of Luke's animal side. There were times during the war he'd been stripped down to it - become a base, feral creature that knew only hunger, sweat and the smells of blood and fear.
She was dreaming after a myth: a gentleman who dallied as a noble beast, rescuing damsels in some enchanted forest. With Luke, she would get a beast wearing the clothes of a man. An uncivilized creature who'd lost all enjoyment in balls and parlor games, who'd forgotten the words to all her trite little songs of green meadows and shepherds and love.
Enjoy your fantasy world, Cecily. Let me visit you there, from time to time.
-Luke's thoughts ~ Tessa Dare

Listen,
listen with your eyes,
and your lips.
Listen with your skin,
and your blood.
Can you hear us,
at the edges? ~ Emmanuelle De Maupassant

A Dick and Jane story written in blood and battered bone.

See Spot.

See Spot run.

See Spot run from a gaping chest wound.

Run Spot run.

See Detective smear Spot into a baggy for DNA testing. ~ J.E. Mac

Blood is no longer flowing in my brain right now. It's somewhere else. ~ Kenya Wright

When you love someone, they becomes a part of who you are. They're in everything you do. They're in the air you breathe and the water you drink and the blood in your veins. Their touch stays on your skin and their voice stays in your ears and their thoughts stay in your mind. You know their dreams because their nightmares pierce your heart and their good dreams are your dreams too. And you don't think they're perfect, but you know their flaws, the deep-down truth of them, and the shadows of all their secrets, and they don't frighten you away; in fact you love them more for it, because you don't want perfect. You want them. ~ Cassandra Clare

If you've worked in a company for a long time, there's a mythology that you know by heart, you don't need to look it up to evoke. It's there in your blood, as it were. ~ Jonathan Galassi

Reading Myself
Like thousands I took just pride and more than just,
struck matches that brought my blood to a boil;
I memorized the tricks to set the river on fire
somehow never wrote something to go back to.
Can I suppose I am finished with wax flowers
and have earned my grass on the minor slopes of Parnassus ...
No honeycomb is built without a bee
adding circle to circle, cell to cell,
the wax and honey of a mausoleum
this round dome proves its maker is alive;
the corpse of the insect lives embalmed in honey,
prays that its perishable work live long
enough for the sweet tooth bear to desecrate
this open book..my open coffin ~ Robert Lowell

Midsummer Night was roasting hot. The shore, of red granite, glowed with the heat; the dark blood of the earth seemed to be rising from below. There was a sharp, unbearable smell of birds, of cod, of green decaying seaweed. Through the mist the huge ruddy sun loomed nearer and nearer. And in the sea, dark blood welled up to meet it - in bloated, rearing, huge white waves.
Night. The mouth of the bay between two cliffs was like a window. A window shutting out curious eyes with a white shade-white woolly fog. And all that you could see was that behind it something red was happening. ("The North") ~ Yevgeny Zamyatin

There's something I have learned from what I've lived:
lf you're to live something, live it to its fullest
Your beloved should fall exhausted from your kisses
You should fall exhausted from smelling a flower

One can watch the sky for hours
Can for hours watch the sea, a bird, a child
To live on earth is to mingle with it
Growing roots that cannot be eradicated

When you hug a friend you should hug him vigorously
You should fight with all your muscles, body, passion
And once you stretch out on the hot sand
You should rest like a grain of sand, a leaf, a stone

One should listen to all the beautiful music on earth
So as to fill all his being with sounds and songs
One should dive into life as if
Diving from a rock into an emerald sea

Distant lands should lure you, people you do not know
You should burn with desire to read all the books, to know all the lives
You should not exchange for anything the pleasure of drinking a glass of water
All the joys should fill you with the yearning to live

And you should live grief also, with honor, with all your being
For grief also, like joy, matures a person
Your blood should mingle with the great circulation of life
In your veins must circulate the eternal fresh blood of life

There is something I have learned from what I've lived:
If you're to live, live big, as if you ~ Ataol Behramoğlu

We're all flawed, and we all make mistakes, and we all have weaknesses. And those are the kind of people I want to see onscreen, the ones that feel like real flesh-and-blood human beings and not the weird, whitewashed, Hollywood stand-ins for people with the rough edges sanded off that I can't connect to because they just don't resonate with me. ~ Lynn Shelton

We come into this world naked, covered in our own blood, screaming in terror - and it doesn't have to stop there if you know how to live right ~ Dana Gould

The blood of Jesus did not merely "cover" the sins of your wicked heart ... leaving a stain! It completely remove them all wiping them out as if they never existed there in the first place! It's called redemption! ~ John Paul Warren

Whomsoever I love and hate, my principle is the same. That is, the educated, the rich and the administrators should not suck the blood of the poor. ~ Periyar E.V. Ramasamy

The brevity of a human lifespan tormented them as never before, and their hearts soared above the vault of time to join with their descendants and plunge into blood and fire in the icy cold of space, the eventual meeting place for the souls of all soldiers. * ~ Liu Cixin

I know that everyone in this room, Bernie Fain included, thinks I'm some kind of a nut with my so-called fixation on this vampire thing. OK, maybe I'm wrong. Maybe he only thinks he is. But there are things here that can't be explained away by so-called common sense. Not even Bernie's report can explain some of them.

'I was at the hospital yesterday.' I looked directly at Butcher. 'Your own people fired maybe fifty or sixty rounds at him, some at point-blank range. How come this man never even slowed down? How come a man seventy years old can outrun police cars for more than fifteen blocks? How come when he gets clubbed on the head he doesn't bleed like other people? Look at these photos! There's a gash on his forehead... and whatever is trickling down from the cut is clear... it isn't blood.

'How come three great, big, burly hospital orderlies weighing an estimated total of nearly seven-hundred fifty pounds couldn't bring one, skinny one-hundred sixty pound man to his knees? How come an ex-boxer, a light-heavyweight not long out of the ring, couldn't even faze him with his best punch, a right hook that should have broken his jaw?

'Face it. Whether it's science, witchcraft or black magic, this character has got something going for him you don't know anything about. He doesn't seem to feel pain. Or get winded. And he doesn't seem to be very frightened by guns, or discouraged by your efforts to trap him.

'Look at these photos! Look ~ Jeff Rice

Okay, I said hoarsely as the blood left my head and headed south for the winter. ~ John Connolly

Here then is an infallible criterion, by which the nation may judge of the intentions of those who govern it ... if they corrupt the morals of the people, spread a taste for luxury, effeminacy, a rage for licentious pleasures, - if they stimulate the higher orders to a ruinous pomp and extravagance, - beware, citizens! beware of those corruptors! they only aim at purchasing slaves in order to exercise over them an arbitrary sway. ~ Emer De Vattel