Hell Ride The Gent Quotes

If you find yourself about to complain, think of your many blessings and rejoice! Don't give the devil a ride today, because then he'll want to drive full-time. So, kick his attitude of complaining spirit out of your blessed zone. Don't give the devil NOTHING!! ~ Anita R. Sneed-Carter

I figured I'd spend my first thousand years of Hell in some entry-level position, but after that I wanted to move into management. Be a real team player. Hell is going to see enormous growth in market share over the next millennium. I wanted to ride the crest. The agent said that sounded pretty realistic. ~ Chuck Palahniuk

Give the wilding an axe, why not?" He pointed out Mormont's weapon, a short-hafted battle-axe with gold scrollwork inlaid on the black steel blade. "He'll give it back, I vow. Buried in the Old Bear's skull, like as not. why not give him all our axes, and our swords as well? I mislike the way the clank and rattle as we ride. We'd travel faster without them, straight to hell's door. Does it rain in hell, I wonder? Perhaps Craster would like a nice hat instead."
Jon smiled. "He wants an axe. And wine as well."
"See, the Old Bear's clever. If we get the wildling well and truly drunk, perhaps he'll only cut off an ear when he tries to slay us with that axe. I have two ears but only one head. ~ George R R Martin

My version, of course, is not this flag-waving, let's all get on the Jesus train and ride out of hell. I'm not that kind of guy. It's an embrace that life is good, worth living and yeah, it's not easy, but there are more pluses than minuses. ~ Billy Corgan

As for us,Etienne was right.Our schools are only a twenty-minute transit ride away.He'll stay with me on the weekends, and we'll visit each other as often as possible during the week. We'll be together.We both got our Point Zero wishes-each other.He said he wished for me every time.He was wishing for me when I entered the tower.
"Mmm," I say.He's kissing my neck.
"That's it," Rashmi says. "I'm outta here.Enjoy your hormones."
Josh and Mer follow her exit,and we're alone.Just the way I like it.
"Ha!" Ettiene says. "Just the way I like it."
He pulls me onto his lap,and I wrap my legs around his waist.His lips are velvet soft,and we kiss until the streetlamps flicker on outside. Until the opera singer begins her evening routine. "I'm going to miss her," I say.
"I'll sing to you." He tucks my stripe behind my ear. "Or I'll take you to the opera.Or I'll fly you back here to visit. Whatever you want.Anything you want."
I lace my fingers through his. "I want to stay right here,in this moment."
"Isn't that the name of the latest James Ashley bestseller? In This Moment?"
"Careful.Someday you'll meet him, and he won't be nearly as amusing in person."
Etienne grins. "Oh,so he'll only be mildly amusing? I suppose I can handle mildly amusing."
"I'm serious! You have to promise me right now,this instant,that you won't leave me once you meet him.Most people would run."
"I'm not most people."
I smile. "I know.But you still have ~ Stephanie Perkins

What the hell happened to your leg?" Ang asked him.
Matt looked down at his shin, which was scraped and oozing and seemed to be caked in mud. "Crashed."
"Crashed what?" Ang asked.
"My mountain bike. We just got back."
"You crashed, then what? Rolled in dirt?"
He laughed. "Something like that actually. It's not a successful ride if you don't bleed." He must not have noticed the look of horror on my face, because he asked, suddenly enthusiastic, "You guys ride?"Angelo and I just looked at each other, and he seemed to realize that was a "no." "Too bad. Well, make yourselves at home. Beer's in the fridge. I have to get cleaned up. Kickoff's in ten minutes."
"Football?" Angelo asked.
Matt looked at his as if he had just asked if the sky was really blue. "Yeah! First game of the regular season!" We just stared blankly at him, and he just laughed and disappeared down the hall.
Angelo looked at me with a smile on his face. "Four fags watchin' football. Must be pretty fuckin' cold in hell right now. ~ Marie Sexton

When you screw up, you got to pay the price. Shoot up a supermarket, you go to jail. Ride a motorcycle without a helmet, permanent brain damage and in California you're getting a ticket. Too chatty on a date with my dad, well, he'll push you in front of a cross town bus. Of course, you know, I'm speaking metaphorically. My dad will push you in front of any bus. ~ Christopher Titus

Death is the vehicle God uses to get us from here to where we are going. Before you take that ride, make sure you know in what direction you are heading. ~ Danny L Deaubé

I want to sit around a Gypsy campfire, eating freshly caught rabbit in the company of bare knuckle fighters, and listen to stories about their fights. I want to sit with King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table after they've defeated the barbarians in battle. I want to be there when Arthur pulls Excalibur from the stone, and I want to be surrounded by dragons, wizards and sorcerers. I want to meet the Muslim leader, Saladin, who occupied Jerusalem in 1187, and despite the fact that a number of holy Muslim places had been violated by Christians, preferred to take Jerusalem without bloodshed. He prohibited acts of vengeance, and his army was so disciplined that there were no deaths or violence after the city surrendered. I want to sit around the desert campfire with him.
I want to drink with Caribbean buccaneers of the 17th century and listen to their tales of preying on shipping and Spanish settlements. I want to witness Celtic Berserkers fighting in ritual warfare in a trance-like fury. I want to spend time working on a scrap cruise, the very last cruise before the ship's due to be scrapped, so there's no future in it, and it attracts all the mad faces of the Merchant Navy. Faces that are known in that industry, who couldn't survive outside 'the life' and who for the most part are quite dangerous and mad themselves. I'd rather have one friend who'll fight like hell over ten who'll do nothing but talk shit. And I want to ride with highwaymen on ribbons of moonlight ~ Karl Wiggins

As I hurried along I was thinking how great it was to earn real money I don't have to ask my parents for. At last! I've worked out that I could probably handle as many as four dogs at a time. If I take them out just on school days I could earn 200 euros a week for five hours' work and have the weekends free to shop and spend it. It's going to be brilliant.I should have asked Stephanie what kind of dog it was. I eyeballed a Great Dane warily, my face about level with its. Bloody hell it was huge. Size of a pony. Wasn't sure whether I was expected to walk it or stick a saddle on its back and ride the thing. ~ Liz Rettig

She threw her head back and laughed. The kid fucking laughed, eyes shining. Like there was no greater adventure she could possibly be on. Like life was turning out to be the most exhilarating, fantastic roller coaster ride she could ever have imagined. Fuck the pain. Fuck the misery. In the middle of the hopeless, brutal hell her short existence on this earth had been, that girl laughed. You don't snuff out a life like that. You honor it. You take measures to protect it, even from itself when necessary, and keep it alive. ~ Karen Marie Moning

Dom, are you out here?" called a voice from somewhere beyond the stables.
Damn it all. It was Tristan.
Swiftly Dom donned his shirt. "Be quiet," he whispered to Jane, "and he'll go away."
Tristan's voice sounded again, even nearer now. "I swear to God, Dom, if you ride off to London in the dark and make a liar out of me before Ravenswood, I will kick you from here to France!"
"He won't go away," Jane whispered back, a hint of desperation in her voice. "He promised Ravenswood that you wouldn't head for London with broken carriage lamps, and now he'll want to make sure that you don't."
Which meant his arse of a brother wasn't going to stop looking for him. Any minute now, he'd be striding into the harness room.
Then Jane would have to marry Dom.
As soon as the thought entered Dom's head, it apparently occurred to her, too, for she paled and stepped near enough to whisper, "Please. Not like this."
He stared at her ashen face, and his stomach sank. He couldn't force her to wed him. After what had happened between them years ago, she would never forgive him for taking her choice away from her yet again.
Besides, he didn't want to force her into anything. The only way he could prove that he didn't intend to run roughshod over her for the rest of their lives was to walk away now. Even if it killed him.
Bloody hell. "I'll draw Tristan away from the stables," Dom said tersely as he shoved his stocking feet into his boots. "That will g ~ Sabrina Jeffries

She squeezed her internal muscles and grinned at his reaction. His fingers bit into her thighs, and his chin tilted up. "Fuck, woman."

"Don't forget how much I like to ride."

He groaned in agony. "Crap. I'm dead."

She leaned down and grasped his chin, locking gazes with him. "I'll go easy on you."

His laugh sounded pained, and she couldn't help but enjoy the amazement in his expression. "Where the hell have you been all my life? ~ Cherrie Lynn

In a room filled with babies, you will know yours from his cry. You'll tilt your head to listen, and from the pitch and tone or jagged howl, you'll instinctively know if he has a wet diaper, a lost pacifier, or if he needs good now. Before long, you'll know his favorite colors, what he wants for lunch, what he'll refuse to eat for dinner, that spiders fascinate him, but bull frogs prompt nightmares, and how long it takes him to start complaining on a long car ride. You may even bet on it. And the first time you see him copy your husband, with a hand gesture, or a tilt of his head, your heart will jump into your throat, and for a few seconds, you'll fall in love with the man you married all over again. ~ Holly Kennedy

He offered me a ride up from the abyss and I took it. But a ride with the devil is never free. And accepting that ride can only lead to hell. ~ S.D. Skye

We're all going to hell anyway, why not enjoy the ride? ~ Robert Ferrigno

If that ain't the biggest bucket of hogwash, I don't know what is," he antagonized. "Hell, more'n likely, after she rode that damn horse to the ground, you jumped into her saddle for a long, hard ride. ~ Charlotte McPherren

This is going to end badly," I murmured, not even sure if he could hear me.
We slid into the elevator, and he pushed the second floor button, smirking. "But we will have one hell of a ride. ~ L.J. Shen

Churces crack me up. They're like money, a conspiracy of faith. Like everyone agreed to believe not only is there a God, but he comes down and checks on folks, so long as they hang in certain places, put up altars, burn lots of candles and incense, and perform sit-stand-kneel and other wacky rituals that'd make a coven of witches look not OCD. Then to further complicate it, some folks perform rituals, subset A, and others folks perform rituals, subset B, C,or D, and so on into an infinity of denominations, and call themselves different things then deny everyone's elses right to heaven if they're not performing the same rituals. Dude. Weird. I figure if there is a God, he or she isn't paying attention to what we build or if follow some elaborate rules, but copping a ride on our shoulders, watching what we do every day.Seing if we took this great big adventure called life and did anything interesting with it. I figure that the folks that are the most interesting get to go to heaven. I mean, if I was God, that's who I would want there with me. I also figure being eternally happy would be eternally boring so I try not to be too interesting, even though it's hard for me. I would rather be a superhero in hell, kicking all kinds of demon ass, than an angel in heaven, waiting around with a beatific smile on my face, playing a pansy harp all day. ~ Karen Marie Moning

Fifty minutes, huh?" he muttered.
"Too long?" she managed with a teasing smile, knowing she longer had the strength to turn him away. She wanted Dalton to make love to her again. Needed him to.
He arched a brow. "You questioning my stamina?"
Laughing softly, she reached for his shirt, pulling him to her. "Not on your life. I know better. I was just thinking that for a man who spent years perfecting the eight second ride, fifty minutes might be quite a stretch."
Threading his fingers through her hair, he looked down at her. "The stretching part is no longer in question. Hell, much longer and it's gonna take a crow bar to get me out of these jeans."
"Then what are you waiting for? ~ Lindsey Brookes

To take a risk is like jumping off of a cliff, you either land softly or die. But either way, that jump is a hell of a ride with the best view. ~ Kim Hotzon

Where's your hair?" she shouted. "And what happened to your arm?"
"Cut my hair and got shot with an arrow!"
"Gods below, Iseult! A few hours away and your whole life tumbles through the hell-gates!"
"I might say the same to you," Iseult shouted back - though it was getting hard to scream and ride. "Four opponents on your tail and a ruined dress! ~ Susan Dennard

On the ride back south, she tapped all the anger-management tricks they'd given her in job training. They played across her windshield like PowerPoint slides. Number One: It's not about you. Number Two: Your plan is not the world's. Number Three: The mind can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven. (24) ~ Richard Powers

He kissed her again, pulling her up against him and running his hands up and down her back. As he deepened the kiss, he became aware of clapping, cheers and catcalls. No doubt Chase had gone into the restaurant and rounded up the whole Fool's Gold crowd to come watch the show. Zane figured they might as well get their money's worth.
He pulled back slightly and took her hand in his as he lowered himself to one knee. He took off his hat and said, "Phoebe, will you marry me?"
Her eyes widened, then filled with tears. "Yes, I will."
Contentment filled him, blending with the love already in his heart.
He pulled the small box from his jacket pocket. While Maya had been busy running to the meeting, Zane had spent some time on Rodeo Drive. The Tiffany's store had a nice collection of engagement rings. He'd chosen a perfect round diamond set on a platinum band that looked like braided rope.
He slipped the ring on her finger, and she gasped.
"It's so beautiful."
"I'm glad you like it. Now keep it away from the raccoons."
"I'll never take it off. Ever." She stared at him. "I really love you, Zane."
He didn't doubt her for a second and knew that he never would. He and Phoebe would be together for the rest of their lives. It was going to be a hell of a ride, and he couldn't wait to see what happened next. ~ Susan Mallery

There is nothing like watching the woman you are in love with make a baby, make a miracle! It is one hell of a ride, and I am only seven months in. Time is flying by, but I am taking it all in. It is the most important thing that I have ever been a part of in my life. ~ Matt Cohen

If I knew you were going to die, I'd make your last moment on earth last forever. I'd take you to the Eiffel Tower in Paris and make sure that you have the most romantic dinner your life. I'd fill your room with hundreds of wild sunflowers, so that even in death, you may carry the scent of something beautiful. If you were to die I'd make sure to drag you through an amusement park and ride all the crazy rides with you, eat all that ice cream with you, win all those stuffed animals for you.
If you were to die, I'd beat up every single person in the world who has ever hurt you. I'd protect you with my life. I'll protect you with everything I own, everything I have, everything I can give. If I knew you were going to die, I'd cut out my own heart for you. I'd cut it out so you could have it. So that you could live. Because I sure as hell can't live without you. ~ Anonymous

The dead man's nephew, excused from this duty, walks far ahead out of earshot. We are free as we go stumbling and sweating along to say exactly what we please, without fear of offending. "Heavy son of a bitch. ... " "All blown up like he is, you'd think he'd float like a balloon." "Let's just hope he don't explode." "He won't. We let the gas out." "What about lunch?" somebody asks; "I'm hungry." "Eat this." "Why'd the bastard have to go so far from the road?" "There's something leaking out that zipper." "Never mind, let's try to get in step here," the sheriff says. "Goddamnit, Floyd, you got big feet." "Are we going in the right direction?" "I wonder if the old fart would walk part way if we let him out of that bag?" "He won't even say thank you for the ride." "Well I hope this learned him a lesson, goddamn him. I guess he'll stay put after this. ... " Thus we meditate upon the stranger's death. ~ Edward Abbey

Many people are caught up with the toys of contemporary society. Because of great advancements in our culture, some have cultivated an attitude of "comfortability." They may be going to hell, but it is going to be a comfortable ride for them. ~ A.W. Tozer

Having a mental illness is like riding a really fast merry-go-round that never stops. There's no escape. You're stuck. But once in a while, you can give the operator some good drugs and he'll slow it down a little; just enough for you to see the trees and the normal people as they stroll by. But that ride operator needs to be supplied often. And sometimes, like any typical junkie, he's just plain unreliable. He stops showing up and you're spinning again. You can't see clearly. ~ Cassia Leo

When Seymour and I were five and three, Les and Bessie played on the same bill for a couple of weeks with Joe Jackson -- the redoubtable Joe Jackson of the nickel-plated trick bicycle that shone like something better than platinum to the very last row of the theater. A good many years later, not long after the outbreak of the Second World War, when Seymour and I had just recently moved into a small New York apartment of our own, our father -- Les, as he'll be called hereafter -- dropped in on us one evening on his way home from a pinochle game. He quite apparently had held very bad cards all afternoon. He came in, at any rate, rigidly predisposed to keep his overcoat on. He sat. He scowled at the furnishings. He turned my hand over to check for cigarette-tar stains on my fingers, then asked Seymour how many cigarettes he smoked a day. He thought he found a fly in his highball. At length, when the conversation -- in my view, at least -- was going straight to hell, he got up abruptly and went over to look at a photograph of himself and Bessie that had been newly tacked up on the wall. He glowered at it for a full minute, or more, then turned around, with a brusqueness no one in the family would have found unusual, and asked Seymour if he remembered the time Joe Jackson had given him, Seymour, a ride on the handle bars of his bicycle, all over the stage, around and around. Seymour, sitting in an old corduroy armchair across the room, a cigarette going, wearing a blue shirt, gray ~ J.D. Salinger

I understand that it's disheartening to pour effort and money into a work of art and find that others do not value it with the same intensity. I've been to this rodeo more than a few times, and yes, it's painful and hard on the soul. It is also the sort of thing that grown-ups do every day. Anyone deluded enough to think they are owed monetary success because they bled for their art is in for some hard, hard knocks and buckets full of tears. There will be many cries of "unfair" and much jealousy and hatred. And to be fair, all authors go through this every time they watch their books ride the waves of bestseller charts and the ego torture chamber known as Goodreads reviews. Even the most well-adjusted of us watch that horrible piece of shit book beat our baby to pieces and gnash our teeth and shout at our monitors demanding to know what brain-donors are shopping on amazon.com these days.

But holy Smart Bitch on a cracker, Batman, to write a post about how stupid readers are and worse to actually put it out there on the internet is so beyond the pale there's a special hell for that kind of idiocy. Let me repeat: authors exist at the pleasure of readers. Without the people who buy and read my books, I am just another dizzy broad writing shit down. Readers aren't just an author's audience; they are her lifeblood.
-- ~ Heidi Cullinan

I've got her okay." Jenks's angular face was pale, making him look as if he was going to pass out. "Jax, it's cold out. Get in Ms. Morgan's purse until we get to the motel." "Hell no!" Jax said, shocking me as he lit on my shoulder. "I'm not going to ride in no purse. I'll be fine with Rex. Tink's diaphragm, Dad. Where do you think I've been sleeping for the last four days?" "Tink's diaph - " Jenks sputtered. "Watch your mouth, young man." This was not happening. ~ Kim Harrison

Before AIM, Indians were dispirited, defeated, and culturally dissolving. People were ashamed to be Indian. You didn't see the young people wearing braids or chokers or ribbon shirts in those days. Hell, I didn't wear 'em. People didn't Sun Dance, they didn't Sweat, they were losing their languages. Then there was that spark at Alcatraz, and we took off. Man, we took a ride across this country. We put Indians and Indian rights smack dab in the middle of the public consciousness for the first time since the so-called Indian wars. ~ Russell Means

You scare me, Ryan Daley. Even more than those demons outside that scream for my death. How is it that I want what you want? I've spent an eternity feeling powerless. Love did that to me - robbed me of all control. I never expected to feel this way again. I don't want to feel.'
'Neither did I,' Ryan rasps, 'because feeling anything at all was dangerous. If I let myself feel, then maybe I'd have to believe what everyone was saying - that Lauren was dead. But from the moment I laid eyes on "Carmen, you kept getting under my skin. At first, all you did was irritate the hell out of me, bailing me up that way outside my house, inviting yourself along for the ride when all I wanted was to be left alone. But that irritation turned into curiosity, which turned into something else, becoming this chain of, of … feeling that brought me here. I dropped everything for you. I veered left. And I'd do it again in a second. That's what "feeling" does. It tells you you're alive, it gives things … I don't know, proper meaning. You're still trying to maintain some veneer of independence? Toughness? Do words like that even apply to you? But I see through it, Mercy. I see through you. You're not that different from me after all, under your armour. Crumbs, Mercy, that's all I'm after. Just crumbs. It's not a lot to ask for. ~ Rebecca Lim

Young Sally Owens: He will hear my call a mile away. He will whistle my favorite song. He can ride a pony backwards.
Young Gillian Owens: What are you doing?
Young Sally Owens: Summoning up a true love spell called Amas Veritas. He can flip pancakes in the air. He'll be marvelously kind. And his favorite shape will be a star. And he'll have one green eye and one blue.
Young Gillian Owens: Thought you never wanted to fall in love.
Young Sally Owens: That's the point. The guy I dreamed of doesn't exist. And if he doesn't exist I'll never die of a broken heart. ~ Alice Hoffman

She's the queen of the herd."
"May I touch her?"
"If she'll let you. She doesn't take to strangers well."
I took a hesitant step forward and reached out my hand. Terror approached me with confidence, then ducked her muzzle beneath my palm. Once she came closer, for a moment, I feared she was going to trample me. But then she brushed gently against my side.
"She wants you to ride her." Jockey looked at me. "This is an honor."
All thoughts of bailing out quietly went to hell with that statement. Why not? How often did you get a chance to ride a Night Mare? ~ Donna Augustine

Get off your horse, Jack."
"Why don't you just ride outta here, missy, and I'll forget this ever happened."
Willow's voice trembled with fury. "Get off your horse," she repeated. "Slow and easy."
Still grinning his contempt, he did as he asked.
"That's good. Now, real slow like, take your gunbelt off and toss it my way."
"Like hell!" A shot rang out and nicked a chunk of leather from his boot. Cursing, he unbuckled his gun and tossed it at her mare's feet.
"Now,strip them britches off, underwear, too," she ordered.
"You little shi-" Bang! Jack's hat whizzed off his head. He dropped his pants in a puddle over his boots, trying his best to shelter his privates from her view.
"My,my,Jack." Willow laughed humorlessly. "Is that puny thing you're trying to hide the same thing you were threatening me with?"
If looks could kill, Willow would have been dead and buried ten times over, then and there.
"Take them confounded boots off so's you can get your pants clear off," she ordered in mock exasperation.
He wheeled around, gaining a modicum of privacy while he complied.
"You're puny all over, Jack. You got the boniest bee-hind I ever did see. You sure you ain't picked up a worm somewheres?"
"You're gonna pay for this,you little slut!"
"Shut your filthy mouth and pick them pants off the ground and toss 'em over here at my horse's feet. Then you can put your boots back on."
He gave the pants a toss, put his boots ~ Charlotte McPherren

She'll be a fierce woman, that one. It'll take a hell of a man to love her right. Be like living with a thunderstorm. Same as her mother. A fierce woman. Force of nature. The kind of woman you just hand on for the ride. The most exciting and the most heartbreaking woman you could ever meet. They don't know their own minds most of the time, but their hearts are so damn big it hurts em inside. ~ Brian Doyle

Oh, you know ... staring down fear, laughing in the face of death, taking a ride in Hell, and in general, testing the waters of the unknown. ~ Jenn Cooksey

I was already headed for Hell, I might as well enjoy the ride. ~ Abbi Glines

You know the proverb, Mr. Hale, 'set a beggar on horseback, and he'll ride to the devil' - well, some of these early manufacturers did ride to the devil in a magnificent style - crushing human bone and flesh beneath their horses' hoofs without remorse. ~ Elizabeth Gaskell

Dante said, "I tried talking Nora into a ride, but she keeps blowing me off."
"That's because she has a hard-A boyfriend. He must have been
homeschooled, because he missed all those valuable lessons we learned in kindergarten, like sharing. He finds out you took Nora for a ride, he'll wrap this shiny new Porsche around the nearest tree. ~ Becca Fitzpatrick

The way I see it, there are only two possible outcomes. Either I make it down there in one piece and I have one hell of a story to tell. Or I burn up in the next ten minutes. Either way, whichever way... no harm, no foul.

Because either way, it's going to be one hell of a ride! I'm ready. ~ Alfonso Cuaron

You won't let me touch you, Erin? You sure as hell better ride me rough for the both of us." He gave an upward thrust of his hips. "My cock is big and angry because you made it that way. That makes it your responsibility. Move. ~ Tessa Bailey