Ill Rip Your Throat Out Quotes

Through the buzzing in her ears, she heard new sounds from outside, shouting and cursing. All of a sudden the carriage door was wrenched open and someone vaulted inside. Evie squirmed to see who it was. Her remaining breath was expelled in a faint sob as she saw a familiar glitter of dark golden hair.
It was Sebastian as she had never seen him before, no longer detached and self-possessed, but in the grip of bone-shaking rage. His eyes were pale and reptilian as his murderous gaze fastened on Eustace, whose breath began to rattle nervously behind the pudgy ladder of his chin.
"Give her to me," Sebastian said, his voice hoarse with fury. "Now, you pile of gutter sludge, or I'll rip your throat out."
Seeming to realize that Sebastian was eager to carry out the threat, Eustace released his chokehold on Evie. She scrambled toward Sebastian and took in desperate pulls of air. He caught her with a low murmur, his hold gentle but secure. "Easy, love. You're safe now." She felt the tremors of rage that ran in continuous thrills through his body.
Sebastian sent a lethal glance to Eustace, who was trying to gather his jellylike mass into the far end of the seat. "The next time I see you," Sebastian said viciously, "no matter what the circumstances, I'm going to kill you. No law, nor weapon, nor God Himself will be able to stop it from happening. So if you value your life, don't let your path cross mine again."
Leaving Eustace in a quivering heap of speechl ~ Lisa Kleypas

Your voice at times a fist
Tight in your throat
Jabs ceaselessly at phantoms
In the room,
Your hand a carved and
Skimming boat
Goes down the Nile
To point out Pharaoh's tomb.
You're Africa to me
At brightest dawn.
The Congo's green and
Copper's brackish hue,
A continent to build
With Black Man's brawn.
I sit at home and see it all
Through you. ~ Maya Angelou

Emma Cordelia Carstairs," he said. He looked both very young and very old at the same time. There was blood at his throat where his faded rune stood out, but it wasn't his. He seemed to be searching her face, though for what, she couldn't tell. "Stay with your parabatai ~ Cassandra Clare

You wouldnt knew a good thing if came up and slit your throat! ~ Fall Out Boy

You'll live. It's just a car, kid." – Sundown
"And hell is just a sauna. Fine. You're right. I'll live, even though right now it feels as if my guts have been yanked out through my nostrils and laid on the floor for your bitter amusement. You insensitive bastard! Just wait till I pick up your bike from the Ishtar. Let's see who laughs then." – Andy
"You hurt that bike, and I'll rip out your spine." – Sundown ~ Sherrilyn Kenyon

Wylan cleared his throat. "The chemistry is complicated. I was hoping Kuwei would help."
Nina said something to Kuwei in Shu. He shrugged and looked away, lip jutting out slightly. Whether it was the recent death of his father or the fact that he'd found himself stuck in a cemetery with a band of thieves, the boy had become increasingly sullen.
"Well?" Jesper prodded.
"I have other interests," Kuwei replied.
Kaz's black gaze pinned Kuwei like the tip of a dagger. "I suggest rethinking your priorities."
Jesper gave Kuwei another nudge. "That's Kaz's way of saying, 'Help Wylan or I'll seal you up in one of these tombs and see how that suits your interests.' "
Matthias was no longer sure what the Shu boy understood or didn't, but apparently he'd received the message. Kuwei swallowed and nodded grudgingly.
"The power of negotiation," Jesper said, and shoved a cracker in his mouth. ~ Leigh Bardugo

I should be getting back to the bonfire. They're going to think I've been kidnapped." He pulled me toward him in one quick motion.

"Kidnapped insinuates some sort of struggle." He said in a low voice with a sexy grin. "You'd enjoy being captured by me." My heart jumped in my throat, but I tried to remain cool.

"I'd like to see you try," I threw back at him, "but first you'll have to escape your own sandy death trap" I wiggled my feet out of the sand, stood up and washed my hands off in the water. He followed my every move with curious eyes.

"Sweet dreams, Anastasia." I wasn't sure if there was an underlying meaning to his words. "Sweet dreams, Finn," I responded, breathlessly. ~ Kristen Day

Friend of yours?" Priss asked.
He turned on her so fast, she jumped back a foot.
"You don't look happy," Priss noted. What an understatement. "It was just a question. Don't implode or anything, okay?"
He fumed quietly, and even in his rage, he looked self-possessed. "Under no circumstances will you provoke that woman. Do you understand me?"
Intrigued by the warning, Priss tried to see around him to wherever the woman had gone. He didn't allow it.
His big, hard hand clasped her face, none too gently. "She will slit your throat and smile while doing it. And no one here will stop her. Do you understand me?"
"Uh . . ." It wasn't easy to speak with the way he smooshed her cheeks, but she felt compelled to point out, "You stopped her."
"This time." He leaned down, close enough to kiss her, but his eyes said he had far from affectionate gestures on his mind. "I won't always be around."
"Duly noted. Now you can stop abusing my face." He released her and she worked her jaw. "Jerk. I bruise easy."
His eye did that interesting twitching thing again before he grabbed her elbow and hustled her forward. ~ Lori Foster

Using the dagger next to him on the nightstand, Dante scored a fresh line on his wrist. He pressed the bleeding cut to Tess's lips, waiting to feel her respond, wanting to curse to the rafters when her mouth remained unmoving, his blood dripping down, useless, onto her chin.
"Come on, angel. Drink for me." He stroked her cool cheek, brushed a tangle of her honey-blond hair from her forehead. "Please live, Tess . . . drink, and live."

A throat cleared awkwardly from the area near the bedroom doorjamb. "I'm sorry, the uh . . . the door was open."

Chase. Just fucking great. Dante couldn't think of anyone he'd like to see less right now. He was too entrenched in what he was doing - in what he was feeling - to deal with another interruption, particularly one coming from the Darkhaven agent. He'd hoped the bastard was already long gone from the compound, back to where he came from - preferably with one of Lucan's size-fourteens planted all the way up his ass. Then again, maybe Lucan was saving the privilege for Dante instead.
"Get out," he growled.

"Is she drinking at all?"

Dante scoffed, low under his breath.

"What part of 'get out' did you fail to understand, Harvard? I don't need an audience right now, and I sure as hell don't need any more of your bullshit."
He pressed his wrist to Tess's lips again, parting them with the fingers of his blood by mild force. It wasn't happening. Dante's eyes stung as he stare ~ Lara Adrian

How did you find me?" he said, anger creasing his brow.
I pushed his hair back to run a finger over the scar Al had given him. "How do you think? He knows when you are sleeping, he knows when you're awake."
From the corner, Al shifted his tune. "So be good, or I'll rip your fucking head off ~ Kim Harrison

The way to get things out of a government is to back them to the wall, put your hands to their throats, and you will get all they have. ~ Agnes Macphail

But the truth, he knows, is otherwise. His pleasure in living has been snuffed out. Like a leaf on a stream, like a puffball on a breeze, he has begun to float towards his end. He sees it quite clearly, and it fills him with (the word will not go away) despair. The blood of life is leaving his body and despair is taking its place, despair that is like a gas, odourless, tasteless, without nourishment. You breathe it in, your limbs relax, you cease to care, even at the moment when the steel touches your throat. ~ J.M. Coetzee

Let go of me, Celt, or I'll rip your arm off. And you know what? I don't care if I lose both of mine in the process. That's the difference between us. Pain is my friend and ally. You fear it. (Zarek) ~ Sherrilyn Kenyon

And I'll have you know that if you hurt my son again, if he so much as sighs sadly over his coffee, I will hire a man, a Russian, probably, to hunt you down and rip all that shiny black hair from your head, then break your skinny arms and legs, and set you on fire, and then put you out with a hammer. And should there be children from your beastly rutting, I shall have the Russian man cut them to tiny pieces and feed them to Madame Jacob's dog. because, although he may be only a worthless, simpleminded, libertine artist, Lucien is my favorite, and I will not have him hurt. Do you understand? ~ Christopher Moore

Lia let out a low growl and moved her arrow to the base of his fat throat. "What do you think, Gabi? Would you like to see these nuptials through?"
"Not this day," I said
"How about on the morrow?" Marcello asked, smiling and lifting my hand to his lips. "If I am your groom?"
"Hold that eHarmony thought," Lia whispered in English. "We gotta get out of here. ~ Lisa Tawn Bergren

Annabelle…" His mouth drifted along her throat. "I've wanted you since the first moment I saw you standing outside that panorama, digging for coins in your purse. I couldn't take my eyes from you. I could hardly believe you were real."
"You stared at me for the entire show," she said, gasping a little as he nibbled at the silken lobe of her ear. "I doubt you learned a single thing about the fall of the Roman Empire."
"I learned that you have the softest lips I've ever kissed."
"You have a novel way of introducing yourself."
"I couldn't help it." His hand skimmed gently up and down her side. "Standing next to you in the darkness was the most unholy temptation I'd ever experienced. All I could think about was how adorable you were and how much I wanted you. When the lights went out completely, I couldn't stand it any longer." A note of masculine smugness entered his voice as he added, "And you didn't push me away."
"I was too surprised!"
"That was the reason you didn't object?"
"No," Annabelle admitted, tilting her face so that her cheek brushed against his. "I liked your kiss. You know that I did."
He smiled at that.

-Annabelle & Simon ~ Lisa Kleypas

Today"

The ordinary miracles begin. Somewhere
a signal arrives: "Now," and the rays
come down. A tomorrow has come. Open
your hands, lift them: morning rings
all the doorbells; porches are cells for prayer.
Religion has touched your throat. Not the same now,
you could close your eyes and go on full of light.

And it is already begun, the chord
that will shiver glass, the song full of time
bending above us. Outside, a sign:
a bird intervenes; the wings tell the air,
"Be warm." No one is out there, but a giant
has passed through town, widening streets, touching
the ground, shouldering away the stars. ~ William Stafford

One single word and I swear I'll rip your tongue out. (Zephyra) ~ Sherrilyn Kenyon

Are you wearing space pants?" Miranda asked him.
"What?"
How did it end? oh, right. "Because your butt is fine."
He gazed at her in that way he had like he was measuring her for straitjacket. "I think-" he started, then stopped and seemed to be having trouble talking. Cleared his throat three times before saying, "I think the line is 'because your butt is out of this world."
"Oh. That makes a lot more sense. I can see that. See, I read this book about how to get guys to like you and they said it was a line that never failed but i got interrupted in the middle and the line before it was about china-not the country, the kind you eat off of-and that is where the fine part was but i must have gotten them confused. He just kept staring at her. ~ Michele Jaffe

At the Saleve, the stove is drawing badly. This and the stale tobacco, rough wine and a perpetual acrid pungency (disinfectant or vomit, or both) are almost intolerable. But there's that tingling you've only got to register once: within two seconds it gets you at the back of your throat, and then immediately diffuses like a drop of oil. A sudden and surprising sweetness. Breathe in through your mouth, out through your nose. That's it. You're hooked.

Someone here is smoking hashish. ~ Jacques Yonnet

My name...my name is Mary. I'm here with a friend.'
Rhage stopped breathing. His heart skipped a beat and then slowed. "Say that again,' he whispered.
'Ah, my name is Mary Luce. I'm a friend of Bella's...We came here with a boy, with John Matthew. We were invited.'
Rhage shivered, a balmy rush blooming out all over his skin. The musical lilt of her voice, the rhythm of her speech, the sound of her words, it all spread through him, calming him, comforting him. Chaining him sweetly.
He closed his eyes. 'Say something else.'
'What?' she asked, baffled.
'Talk. Talk to me. I want to hear your voice.'
She was silent, and he was about to demand that she speak when she said, 'You don't look well. Do you need a doctor?'
He found himself swaying. The words didn't matter. It was her sound: low, soft, a quiet brushing in his ears. He felt as if here being stroked on the inside of his skin.
'More,' he said, twisting his palm around to the front of her neck so he could feel the vibrations in her throat better.
'Could you... could you please let go of me?'
'No.' He brought his other arm up. She was wearing some kind of fleece, and he moved the collar aside, putting his hand on her shoulder so she couldn't get away from him. 'Talk.'
She started to struggle. 'You're crowding me.'
'I know. Talk.'
'Oh for God's sake, what do you want me to say?'
Even exasperated, her voice was beautiful. 'Anything.'
'Fine. Get you ~ J.R. Ward

Sol closed his eyes, tilted his head up for a moment before opening them and meeting my dazed gaze. He leaned his forehead against mine, and said the last thing I ever expected.


"I've been searching my entire life for you."

I burst out laughing. I couldn't help it that had to be the funniest thing anyone had ever said to me…ever. I rested my hand on my stomach, and was bent over at the waist when I heard him clear his throat. I looked up, immediately sobered and stood tall, staring him in the eye.


"Does that line generally work well for you?" I asked with as straight a face as I could manage.


He shifted his weight, raised his hands in mid-air and said, "Usually. Women tend to fall at my feet, and beg me to take them home."


"Arrogance and egotism know no bounds, I see."


"When you've lived as long as I have, you take your kicks where you can get them. ~ E.R. Pierce

Before she could say anything more, Sabella swung around at the sound of Noah's Harley purring to life behind the garage.
God. He was dressed in snug jeans and riding chaps. A snug dark T-shirt covered his upper body, conformed to it. And he was riding her way.
"Is there anything sexier than a man in riding chaps riding a Harley?" Kira asked behind her. "It makes a woman simply want to melt."
And Sabella was melting. She watched as he pulled around the side of the garage then took the gravel road that led to the back of the house. The sound of the Harley purred closer, throbbing, building the excitement inside her.
"I think it's time for me to leave," Kira said with a light laugh. "Don't bother to see me out."
Sabella didn't. She listened as the Harley drew into the graveled lot behind the house and moved to the back door. She opened it, stepping out on the back deck as he swung his legs over the cycle and strode toward her.
That long-legged lean walk. It made her mouth water. Made her heart throb in her throat as hunger began to race through her.
"The spa treated you well," he announced as he paused at the bottom of the steps and stared back at her. "Feel like messing your hair up and going out this evening? We could have dinner in town. Ride around a little bit."
She hadn't ridden on a motorcycle since she was a teenager. She glanced at the cycle, then back to Noah.
"I'd need to change clothes."
His gaze flickered over her s ~ Lora Leigh

Have you ever accidentally swallowed a piece of celery without chewing? The feeling of its weight lodged in your throat, scraping its way down. You think you're gonna choke, but your throat takes over and digests it, and it takes all the wind out of you. You need to lie down, catch your breath, maybe even take a nap.
That's how it feels to come out each time. ~ Aimee Herman

Finn," she protested. "I wasn't laughing like, with her." Izzy glowered at me. "She tried to kill me."
"Actually, I didn't," I broke in. There was a hard look in Aislinn's and Finley's eyes that scared the heck out of me. The last thing I wanted was to be held responsible for Elodie's actions, especially now that I was, technically, one of these women, and the words just came pouring out of my mouth. "See, I don't have powers anymore, because I was supposed to go through the Removal, and that sort of locked my magic away so that I can't use it. But there was this girl-well, this witch-Elodie, and because she passed her magic on to me when she died, we're connected. That means her ghost follows me around and stuff, so when you attacked me, she possessed my body. Which is new and, quite frankly, super freaky, and something that I haven't really processed yet. Anyway, she was the one who used magic on you. Oh, and held the sword to your throat, and said all that creepy stuff. I'm not creepy. At least not on purpose."
By now, all three Brannick women-all four, if you counted Mom-were staring at me. Man, what had that piney-tasting stuff been? The Brannick version of Red Bull?
"I'll, uh, stop talking now. ~ Rachel Hawkins

I know you didn't grow up in a palace, but you should at least know that it's not very smart or polite to wink at a princess, especially during a formal event," she said. "Well, I've never been accused of being smart or polite before." She regarded him for a silent moment. He was tall, and she liked the broadness of his shoulders. And despite the fact that he kept tugging at his collar, she also liked the way he filled out his fine tailored clothing. "Your nose is crooked," she said. He touched it, then frowned. "It's been broken a few times. Frankly, I'm lucky to still have a nose." "It's quite ugly." "Um . . ." "I like it." "Thanks?" He cleared his throat. "Is there something I can do for you, princess?" "Actually, yes." "And what's that?" "You can take me to your bed." Felix ~ Morgan Rhodes

And the speck of my heart, in my shed of flesh and bone, began to sing out, the way the sun would sing if the sun could sing, if light had a mouth and a tongue, if the sky had a throat, if god wasn't just an idea but shoulders and a spine, gathered from everywhere, even the most distant planets, blazing up. Where am I? Even the rough words come to me now, quick as thistles. Who made your tyrant's body, your thirst, your delving, your gladness? Oh tiger, oh bone-breaker, oh tree on fire! Get away from me. Come closer. ~ Mary Oliver

Then Er Lang was looking at me ruefully. "You have taken at least fifty years of my life!"
I was stricken. "Take it back!"
"I can't. But fortunately, my life span is many times yours."
"How long can a dragon live?"
"A thousand years, if he is lucky. Not all of us are, of course." He raised an eyebrow.
"I'm sorry." I couldn't look him in the eye. Instead, my gaze was drawn to the strong line of his throat. If he had given me blood, I would surely have killed him. But Er Lang was struggling to sit up.
"I should have stopped you sooner. Though I now understand why men succumb to ghosts." He spoke lightly, but my ears blazed with mortification.
"You were the one who put your tongue in my mouth!" I blurted out, regretting it instantly. To talk about other people's tongues was the worst, revealing the depths of my inexperience. And yet, the memory of his made me shiver and burn, as though I had a fever. It hadn't been like this with Tian Bai; it was easy to understand where I stood with him. But he had been courting me, whereas Er Lang was an entirely different commodity. We did not have that sort of relationship, I reminded myself.
But he merely gave me a wry glance. "I was a little carried away."
"Thank you," I said at last. I realized it was the first time I had thanked him formally. ~ Yangsze Choo

Hazel laughed. Then she kissed Frank. 'See you in the morning.'
'Yeah,' Frank said. 'Nico … you sure you won't come with us? You'll always have a place in New Rome.'
'Thanks, Praetor. Reyna said the same thing. But … no.'
'I hope I'll see you again?'
'Oh, you will,' Nico promised. 'I'm going to be the flower boy at your wedding, right?'
'Um …' Frank got flustered, cleared his throat and shuffled off, running into the doorjamb on the way out. ~ Rick Riordan

He hadn't been aware of staring, but when her questioning gaze locked with his, Grey felt as though he'd been smacked upside the head by the open palm of idiocy.
"Is something troubling you, Grey?"
He loved the sound of his name on her tongue, and hated that he loved it. She made him weak and stupid. One sweet glance from her and he was ready to drop to his knees.
It wasn't love. It wasn't even infatuation. It was pure unmitigated lust. He could admit that. Hell, he embraced it. Lust could be managed. Lust could be mastered. And lust would eventually fade once she was out of his care and out of his life. That was the cold, hard, blessed truth of it.
"I was wondering if you were eagerly anticipating Lady Shrewsbury's ball tomorrow evening?" How easily the lie rolled off his tongue as he lifted a bite of poached salmon to his mouth.
She smiled softly, obviously looking forward to it very much. "I am. Thank you."
Camilla shared her daughter's pleasure judging from her coy grin. "Rose has renewed her acquaintance with the honorable Kellan Maxwell. He requested that she save the first waltz of the evening for him."
The fish caught in Grey's throat. He took a drink of wine to force it down. "The same Kellan Maxwell who courted you during your first season?"
Rose's smile faded a little. No doubt she heard the censure in his tone, his disapproval. "The same," she replied with an edge of defensiveness.
The same idiot who abandoned his pursu ~ Kathryn Smith

You touch her again, and so help me I'll rip your arm off and beat you with it. (Ewan) ~ Kinley MacGregor

Sometimes there is a seed in your heart. It might feel like a stone, or like a bud ready to blossom. It might feel like a heavy little egg, and you have no idea what's inside. It might feel like a hard, burning ember. No seed is the same. But if you let that seed, that feeling-sound, take root, then it will grow. Sometimes it grows quickly, or sometimes very slowly, especially if you don't tend it. It could take months or even years to grow up through your throat and out your mouth. But when you do finally speak it, the birds call that a heart-song. ~ Katherine Catmull

And then I cried a flood of tears as if I really were a mermaid who had absorbed too much sea into herself. The tears spilled like a balm, like a potion, like a charm. In them swam a little girl whose father was dying without ever having seen her. In them swam a girl whose mother's magic – the only thing the girl envied more than anything else in the world, the thing that had made her invisible, the most precious thing –might be dying too. In them swam a green-haired girl who had never been touched by the boy to whom she was so devoted that she would have lived with him forever in a shack by the sea or a ruined sand castle even if he never made love to her. My tears were for me, but they were also for him. They were to wash away the thing that had frightened him so much so long ago. The wound inside his thigh. My tears poured out of me and he drank them down his throat. He drank them in gulps deep into himself, swallowing sorrow.
Someday," he said, "when we are ready, I will give you back your tears. ~ Francesca Lia Block

Tell me you don't feel it then, the fluttering in your chest; the hair on the nape of your neck rising as your nerve endings stir, your fingers tingling with the need to reach out and caress something." His eyes raked down her form. "Tell me your body doesn't ache at the mere thought of me between your thighs, on top of you, inside of you, giving you what my brother never could - real feeling, the kind of feeling that makes you scream so loud your throat feels like it's bleeding. Agonizing pleasure, the kind that torments your every thought, driving you to the brink of insanity only to pull you right back from the edge, over and over and over again. Unbearable pleasure, the kind that makes you beg for it to stop, but the moment it's over, you feel like nothing but an empty, useless shell - a shell that needs more. ~ J.M. Darhower