Drawing Blood Quotes

She gently bit his bottom lip, his ear. Worked her way down his body until she reached the inside of his thigh, then bit hard, breaking the skin, drawing blood. "My mark," she said, looking up at him. "Now you'll go back to your wife with my mark. ~ Dominique Wilson

I tended to faint when I saw accident victims in the emergency ward, during surgery, or while drawing blood. ~ Michael Crichton

In those moments it's hard to remember that an angry voice is an invisible thing incapable of drawing blood. ~ Amanda Howells

She sank her teeth into his bottom lip, drawing blood, and gave a wicked laugh, and still he kissed her. Not out of desperation or hope or for luck, but simply because he wanted to. Saints, he wanted to. He kissed her until the cold night fell away and his whole body sang with heat. He kissed her until the fire burned up the panic and the anger and the weight in his chest, until he could breathe again, and until they were both breathless. ~ V.E. Schwab

The following night she came to his bed and she came every night for nine nights running, pushing the door shut and latching it and turning in the slatted light at God knew what hour and stepping out of her clothes and sliding cool and naked against him in the narrow bunk all softness and perfume and the lushness of her black hair falling over him and no caution to her at all. Saying I dont care I dont care. Drawing blood with her teeth where he held the heel of his hand against her mouth that she not cry out. ~ Cormac McCarthy

We need to stop Sharon. His lethal policies are drawing blood on both sides. That's why we need a serious intervention
international troops. And we need to end the occupation if there is to be security for both people. ~ Hanan Ashrawi

Perfect," he groaned. "You are perfect." He sank his teeth into her ass, hard, drawing blood. "And now you wear my mark," he finished proudly. "Your ass is mine. ~ Hanna Lui

Montreal
October 1704
Temperature 55 degrees

Eben was looking at Sarah in the way every girl prays some boy will one day look at her. "I will marry you, Sarah," said Eben. "I will be a good husband. A Puritan husband. Who will one day take us both back home."
Wind shifted the lace of Sarah's gown and the auburn of one loose curl.
"I love you, Sarah," said Eben. "I've always loved you."
Tears came to Sarah's eyes: she who had not wept over her own family. She stood as if it had not occurred to her that she could be loved; that an English boy could adore her. "Oh, Eben!" she whispered. "Oh, yes, oh, thank you, I will marry you. But will they let us, Eben? We will need permission."
"I'll ask my father," said Eben. "I'll ask Father Meriel."
They were not touching. They were yearning to touch, they were leaning forward, but they were holding back. Because it is wrong? wondered Mercy. Or because they know they will never get permission?
"My French family will put up a terrible fuss," said Sarah anxiously. "Pierre might even summon his fellow officers and do something violent."
Eben grinned. "Not if I have Huron warriors behind me."
The Indians rather enjoyed being French allies one day and difficult neighbors the next. Lorette Indians might find this a fine way to stab a French soldier in the back without drawing blood.
They would need Father Meriel. He could arrange anything if he chose; he had power among all the p ~ Caroline B. Cooney

The praying which makes a prayerful ministry is not a little praying put in as we put flavor to give it a pleasant smack, but the praying must be in the body, and form the blood and bones. Prayer is no petty duty, put into a corner; no piecemeal performance made out of the fragments of time which have been snatched from business and other engagements of life; but it means that the best of our time, the heart of our time and strength must be given. ~ E. M. Bounds

There are many people for whom hate and rage pay a higher dividend of immediate satisfaction than love. Congenitally aggressive, they soon become adrenaline addicts, deliberately indulging psychically stimulated endocrines. Knowing that on self-assertion always ends by evoking other and hostile self-assertions, they sedulously cultivate their truculence. And, sure enough, very soon they find themselves in the thick of a fight. But a fight is what they most enjoy; for it is while they are fighting that their blood chemistry makes them feel most intensely themselves. "Feeling good", they naturally assume that they *are good. Adrenalin addiction is rationalized as Righteous Indignation and finally, like the prophet Jonah, they are convinced, unshakably, that they do well to be angry. ~ Aldous Huxley

Pigeon she strut on the rooftop
Cockroach he strut on the sink
My baby strut down to Jerusalem
Where blood is the favorite drink ~ Tom Robbins

To love in any way is to be like a child - it means to be vulnerable, to be wide-eyed, to be selfless. There is no such thing as free love; love is the most
costly expression in the world. To love romantically is to give of
oneself fully and completely, a merging and meshing of souls so
that the twain become a unity. It is to allow the sense of wonder
to fully enrapture. ~ Ted Dekker

You are as timid as the gazelle that grazes by the oases," he mocked softly. "Your eyes are those of a timid, hunted creature. Where is your bravery now, daughter of Hassan? Am I not only a man - only flesh and flesh and blood, whose heart beats even as yours does. Can't you feel it beneath your fingers? ~ Penny Jordan

LOOK AROUND. GAME DEAD, RIVERS BLACK, LAND CHOKED WITH WEED. SKIES BLEEDING, RED AS BLOOD. FOR WHAT?
YOUR KIND ARE BLIND. YOU SEE ONLY THE NOW. NEVER THE WILL BE.
BUT SOON YOU WILL. WHEN ALL IS GONE, WHEN THERE ARE SO MANY MONKEY-CHILDREN THAT YOU MURDER FOR A SCRAP OF LAND, A DROP OF CLEAN WATER, THEN YOU WILL SEE. ~ Jay Kristoff

The breath I take, the thoughts I think, the emotions I develop, the blood I circulate, the neurons that are wired, everything is completely controlled and has a deep meaning behind it. My soul is enlightened. ~ Magith Noohukhan

You can tell you are a soccer girl if.
You dont mind falling in the mud
You dont care if you get tripped.
You get back up again when you get pushed.
You out run all the guys.
You dont care to get a little sweat and blood on you.
You dont care about getting kicked in the ankles a million times.
You dont care about people stepping on your toes with there cleats.
You dont care what your hair looks like after you play.
All your makeup is washed off!
If you are all those you are definitely a soccer player! :) ~ Anonymise

Like a blood-red sky that warns the passerby, "There is a fire over there," certain blazing looks often reveal passions that they serve merely to reflect. They are flames in the mirror. ~ Marcel Proust

I thought of the character being real, a living person, not a drawing. ~ Ollie Johnston

SECTUMSEMPRA!" bellowed Harry from the floor, waving his wand wildly. Blood spurted from Malfoy's face and chest as though he had been slashed with an invisible sword. He staggered backward and collapsed onto the waterlogged floor with a great splash, his wand falling from his limp right hand. "No - " gasped Harry. Slipping and staggering, Harry got to his feet and plunged toward Malfoy, whose face was now shining scarlet, his white hands scrabbling at his blood-soaked chest. "No - I didn't - " Harry did not know what he was saying; he fell to his knees beside Malfoy, who was shaking uncontrollably in a pool of his own blood. Moaning ~ J.K. Rowling

In one picture, the pool was half hidden by a fringe of mace- weeds, and the dead willow was leaning across it at a prone, despondent angle, as if mysteriously arrested in its fall towards the stagnant waters. Beyond, the alders seemed to strain away from the pool, exposing their knotted roots as if in eternal effort. In the other drawing, the pool formed the main portion of the foreground, with the skeleton tree looming drearily at one side. At the water's farther end, the cat-tails seemed to wave and whisper among themselves in a dying wind; and the steeply barring slope of pine at the meadow's terminus was indicated as a wall of gloomy green that closed in the picture, leaving only a pale of autumnal sky at the top. ("Genius Loci") ~ Clark Ashton Smith

War has been good to me from a financial standpoint but I don't want to make money that way. I don't want blood money. ~ Ted Turner

Before I merely daydreamed about Ralston. Now I find myself actually with him. Actually talking to him. Actually discovering the real Ralston. He is no longer a creature I invented. He is flesh and blood and ... now I can't help wondering ... " She trailed off, unwilling to say what she was thinking. What if he were mine?
She did not have to say the words aloud; Anne heard them anyway. When Callie opened her eyes and met Anne's gaze in the looking glass, she saw Anne's response there. Ralston is not for you, Callie.
"I know, Anne," Callie said quietly, as much to remind herself as to reassure her friend. ~ Sarah MacLean

Barrick could only stand and watch them go, alone with the tribe of incomprehensible strangers who lived now in his blood and his thoughts. ~ Tad Williams

October Fullness"

Little by little, and also in great leaps,
life happened to me,
and how insignificant this business is.
These veins carried
my blood, which I scarcely ever saw,
I breathed the air of so many places
without keeping a sample of any.
In the end, everyone is aware of this:
nobody keeps any of what he has,
and life is only a borrowing of bones.
The best thing was learning not to have too much
either of sorrow or of joy,
to hope for the chance of a last drop,
to ask more from honey and from twilight.

Perhaps it was my punishment.
Perhaps I was condemned to be happy.
Let it be known that nobody
crossed my path without sharing my being.
I plunged up to the neck
into adversities that were not mine,
into all the sufferings of others.
It wasn't a question of applause or profit.
Much less. It was not being able
to live or breathe in this shadow,
the shadow of others like towers,
like bitter trees that bury you,
like cobblestones on the knees.

Our own wounds heal with weeping,
our own wounds heal with singing,
but in our own doorway lie bleeding
widows, Indians, poor men, fishermen.
The miner's child doesn't know his father
amidst all that suffering.

So be it, but my business
was
the fullness of the spirit:
a cry of pleasure choking you,
a sigh from an uprooted ~ Pablo Neruda

The flavor of that blood stayed with him through the long years of his service ( ... ) by then he could no longer remember whose blood it was, only that he had grown used to the taste. ~ Holly Black

Earlier research has shown that poor blood flow can damage these parts of the brain. So one theory is that exercise may prevent damage and might even help repair these areas by increasing blood flow. ~ Bill Vaughan

Yelena, you've driven me crazy. You've caused me considerable trouble and I've contemplated ending your life twice since I've known you." Valek's warm breath in my ear sent a shiver down my spine.
"But you've slipped under my skin, invaded my blood and seized my heart."
"That sounds more like a poison than a person," was all I could say. His confession had both shocked and thrilled me.
"Exactly," Valek replied. "You have poisoned me. ~ Maria V. Snyder

Sebastian opened his mouth to argue, but as he saw Evie drawing closer something changed in his face. It was a response to the anxiety that she couldn't manage to hide. For some reason her concern gently undermined his hostility, and softened him. Looking from one to the other, Cam observed the subtle interplay with astute interest.
"Have you been hurt?" Evie asked, looking over him closely. To her relief, Sebastian appeared disheveled and riled, but free of significant damage.
He shook his head, holding still as she reached up to push back a few damp amber locks that were nearly hanging in his eyes. "I'm fine," he muttered. "Compared to the drubbing I received from Westcliff, this was nothing. ~ Lisa Kleypas

As a courtesy I'm taking you out to the impound garage to get your vehicle. We've been over it with the best tools available to forensic science, and except for enough cannabis debris to keep an average family of four stoned for a year, you're clean. No blood or impact evidence we can use. Congratulations. ~ Thomas Pynchon

Moreno, Morelos, Cantine, Gomez, Gutierrez, Villanousul, Ureta, Licon, Navarro, Iturbi; Jorge, Filomena, Nena, Manuel, Jose, Tomas, Ramona. This man walked and this man sang and this man had three wives; and this man died of this, and that of that, and the third from another thing, and the fourth was shot, and the fifth was stabbed and the sixth fell straight down dead; and the seventh drank deep and died dead, and the eighth died in love, and the ninth fell from him horse, and the tenth coughed blood, and the eleventh stopped his heart, and the twelfth used to laugh much, and the thirteenth was a dancing one, and the fourteenth was most beautiful of all, the fifteenth had ten children and the sixteenth is one of those children as is the seventeenth; and the eighteenth was Tomas and did well with his guitar; the next three cut maize in their fields, had three lovers each; the twenty-second was never loved; the twenty-third sold tortillas, patting and shaping them each at the curb before the Opera House with her little charcoal stove; and the twenty-fourth beat his wife and now she walks proudly in the town and is merry with new men and here he stands bewildered by this unfair thing, and the twenty-fifth drank several quarts of river with his lungs and was pulled forth in a net, and the twenty-sixth was a great thinker and his brain now sleeps like a burnt plum in his skull. ~ Ray Bradbury

Wait," he said. "Before we leave, can I, um, can I see what you really look like now?"

"Doofus. I look like your sister."

"I know. But there's more now. Right?"

It was a fair question. She said, "Okay. But you have to promise not to freak out. Just remember I'm still me, regardless of what it might look like."

"I promise."

And so it was there, in the reimagined and reconstructed memory of the kitchen she once shared with Ria, that Molly set aside her human form and showed her brother what she had become. The transition went more smoothly than it had in Bayliss's hotel room. She dialed it back when Martin flinched and shielded his eyes.

"Are you okay?" she asked, momentarily consumed with a vision of bloody tears streaking Bayliss's face.

"Oh, Moll," said Martin. He was crying. Not blood, though. "They turned you into starlight. ~ Ian Tregillis

I sort through piles of sheets with gloved hands. The dirties are brought down by orderlies, morenas mostly. I never see the sick; they visit me through the stains and marks they leave on the sheets, the alphabet of the sick and dying. A lot of the time the stains are too deep and I have to throw these linens in the special hamper. One of the girls from Baitoa tells me she's heard that everything in the hamper gets incinerated. Because of the sida, she whispers. Sometimes the stains are rusty and old and sometimes the blood smells sharp as rain. You'd think, given the blood we see, that there's a great war going on out in the world. Just ~ Junot Diaz

She did not mind this new background; she was indifferent to the slums as she had been indifferent to the drawing rooms. ~ Ayn Rand

It is a dream. He knows it, and his becoming aware of it gives him a power to move freely among the other kids and people. Some of them wear yellow baseball hats. He feels the top of his head. No hat. He becomes anxious, frightened. He looks at those who wear the hats, some of his little friends, a few others he does not recognize. The hat means they will be saved. It means they have been chosen by God to live through the trials of Armageddon, when the moon will turn to blood, the sky will rain fire. ~ Stephen Dawson

The 20th century was the century of war and blood. The 21st century is the century of dialogue. ~ Dalai Lama

I pour upward through the long dark tunnel of the spout. I am a funnel of smoke, a whirlwind of fire. I open myself and multiply, swelling into a great cloud over the boy's head. I press a thousand smoky hands against the stone ceiling of the cave. I roll a thousand fiery eyes and stretch a thousand glittering legs. I unfold and unfold and unfold. How good it feels to be out! I crackle with energy and excitement, my blood lightning and my breath thunder. ~ Jessica Khoury

He grabs my arms and the blood from my wrist dribbles to the floor. "You didn't have to. It came from your heart. You didn't just draw with chalk. You drew with your blood. You've shared pain, and sharing your suffering has lifted the weight from your shoulders. ~ Allison Rose

It was wild. Abandoned. Rough. Wet. Intense. Fiery. Thorough. Exquisite. Heart-pounding. Blood-singing. Soul-rocking. Life-altering.
Luscious. ~ Kristen Ashley

Small unhurt sorrows approach the hospitals
and every day the dead take off a suit of blood.
The architectures of frost,
the lyres and moans that escape the tiny leaves
in autumn, soaking the final slopes,
died out in the blackness of felt hats. ~ Federico Garcia Lorca

Let my stories do what stories always do. Let them keep you from your darker dreams & from your darker journey. Let them keep you here. ~ Anne Rice

The avenger of blood shall put the murderer to death. ~ Mark Nolan

Too often cartoonists just look at other cartoonists and, after a lot of inbreeding, everyone has the same funny look. The challenge of drawing is that there is no one right way to visually describe something. It's a good thing to confront your limitations and preconceptions every so often. ~ Bill Watterson

To write well is to have felt a tingle of joy in your being; to have left a little of your blood on the page' B.J.Kibble, author of DRY RAIN, LEGION, CHASING THE WIND,and CRIES FROM THE GRAVE. ~ B.J. Kibble

You are not allowed to get lost unless I want to lose you. You aren't allowed to be found, unless it's me doing the finding. And the only way you're allowed to die is if I choose to kill you with my own hands. Your life doesn't belong to you anymore, and if I have to murder you tonight and paint the snow with your blood to make you understand that, I will. You are mine, Kingsley. End of discussion. ~ Tiffany Reisz

Drawing is the representation of form - the graphic expression of a visual experience. ~ Walter J. Phillips

Music is service to people. Music and art - we need it like blood and oxygen. It heals us, and it reveals us to ourselves. ~ Rosanne Cash