Parodies Of The Scream Quotes

You know one of the best things? Women gathering, marching, doing anything together makes a lot of men go crazy. They yell and scream and taunt and shake their fists. You know why? They're scared. They're scared we'll actually gain power and force them to change. ~ Kate Alcott

Let go of me, I scream, but, oh, only in my imagination because my lips are finished working and my heart has just expired and my mind has gone to hell for the day and my eyes my eyes I think they're bleeding ... ~ Tahereh Mafi

She screamed. Not a normal scream of pain, but a deep and blind cry as reason deserted her. Of all the screams cataloged in the encyclopedic audio library of the Hidden Schools, Tara's bore the closest resemblance to the scream of a man whose abdomen was being devoured by a jagged-clawed insect that wore a child's face. ~ Max Gladstone

Instructions for a Broken Heart
I will find a bare patch of earth, somewhere where the ruins have fallen away, somewhere where I can fit both hands, and I will dig a hole.
And into that hole, I will scream you, I will dump all the shadow places of my heart - the times you didn't call when you said you'd call, the way you only half listened to my poems, your eyes on people coming through the swinging door of the café - not on me - your ears, not really turned toward me. For all those times I started to tell you about the fight with my dad or when my grandma died, and you said something about your car, something about the math test you flunked, as an answer. I will scream into that hole the silence of dark nights after you'd kissed me, how when I asked if something was wrong - and something was obviously so very wrong - how you said "nothing," how you didn't tell me until I had to see it in the dim light of a costume barn - so much wrong. I will scream all of it.
Then I will fill it in with dark earth, leave it here in Italy, so there will be an ocean between the hole and me.
Because then I can bring home a heart full of the light patches. A heart that sees the sunset you saw that night outside of Taco Bell, the way you pointed out that it made the trees seem on fire, a heart that holds the time your little brother fell on his bike at the fairgrounds and you had pockets full of bright colored Band-Aids and you kissed the bare skin of his knees. I will take t ~ Kim Culbertson

What does this mean, then – I'm afraid? Scared of physical intimacy? No. I crave it, I dream about it. But for me there's no one. No one. Any guy, even imaginary, would just feel like second best. Second best to what? I don't even have an image of the perfect boyfriend. I just know he must exist. Because I have all these feelings – of love, longing, wanting to be touched, dreaming of being kissed – yet no one to focus them on. It makes me want to scream in frustration. It makes me feel like a freak. But worse than that, I feel so desperately disappointed. ~ Tabitha Suzuma

Modernity invented the future, but that's all over. In the current version 'progressive history' camouflages phylogenetic death-drive tactics, Kali-wave: logistically accelerating condensation of virtual species extinction. Welcome to the matricide laboratory. You want it so badly it's a slow scream in your head, deleting itself into bliss. ~ Nick Land, Fanged Noumena: Collected Writings, 1987-2007

In the silence of the forest you don't have to scream to be threatening. ~ Fredrik Backman

Two pages of the passive voice - just about any business document ever written, in other words, not to mention reams of bad fiction - make me want to scream. It's weak, it's circuitous, and it's frequently tortuous, as well. How about this: My first kiss will always be recalled by me as how my romance with Shayna was begun. Oh, man - who farted, right? A simpler way to express this idea - sweeter and more forceful, as well - might be this: My romance with Shayna began with our first kiss. I'll never forget it. I'm not in love with this because it uses with twice in four words, but at least we're out of that awful passive voice. ~ Stephen King

A look passed between Recevo and Karras. They could hear the rest of them crowded outside the door.
Karras cradled the Thompson gun, pressed the butt tight against his ribs.
"Well," he whispered. "Come on if you're gonna come."
They charged into the room.
Karras saw white fire as he heard the reports, heard Joey's gun explode, saw one man fall, heard Joey scream, watched Joey's fedora tumble by as if it had been blown by a strong wind. Karras squeezed the trigger, saw men diving through the gunsmoke, the doorframe disintegrating in spark and dust. He fell back to the floor from a blunt shock that felt like a hammer blow to his chest.
Karras winced, got himself up onto the balls of his feet. He leaned his face against the table, rested it there, caught his breath. He listened to the others move about the room.
Swim, you Greek bastard.
And he was over the table, landing on his feet as softly as if he had landed in water. And they were there, the Welshman and the others, moving toward him, emptying their guns at once, the sound deafening now and riding over their caterwauling screams and the bottomless scream coming from his own mouth.
Karras went forward, humming as his finger locked down on the trigger, the Tommy gun dancing crazily in his arms, the gunmen falling before him through the smoke and ejecting shells and the white gulls gliding against the perfect blue sky.
Red flowers bloomed on the chests of the men who had come to tak ~ George Pelecanos

Hey, nit squat! These are written by norms to scare norms. And do you know what the monsters and demons and rancid spirits are? Us, that's what. You and me. We are the things that come to the norms in nightmares. The thing that lurks in the bell tower and bites out the throats of the choirboys - that's you, Oly. And the thing in the closet that makes the babies scream in the dark before it sucks their last breath - that's me. And the rustling in the brush and the strange piping cries that chill the spine on a deserted road at twilight - that's the twins singing practice scales while they look for berries. ~ Katherine Dunn

Hazel screamed at the top of her lungs, but it was a scream of delight. For the first time in her life-in her two lives-she felt absolutely unstoppable. ~ Rick Riordan

You must be practically a hero to retain your composure in the midst of universal panic. But just try to scream and tear around when everyone else is going about his business
that takes a lot of audacity. ~ Lidiya Ginzburg

I'm glad you still have your survival instinct."

"We've all got something." I lift my fingertips to the exposed skin on my face. It's colder than the night sea. Cupping my hands, I blow into them, let my breath warm my nose and cheeks. "I apparently still have a face, which is good."

Holden vaults up onto the wooden platform and I step up after him. "That is good," he says, pulling me in close. He lifts his gloved hands to my cheeks. "After all, this is one of my favorite faces."

I scrunch my lips into a pretend pout. "One of?"

He grins. "Well, you know. I'm a sucker for the classics. Helen of Troy, the Mona Lisa, that - "

"Hey. The Mona Lisa isn't even hot." I give him a little shove away from me, toward the edge of the platform.

"Disagree," Holden says. "She's beautiful in her own way. That mischievous smile, those dark, soulful eyes, the way she - "

"Fine, whatever." I cross my arms. "But I insist on being ranked above her."

"Okay, okay," Holden says. "Yours can be my second-favorite face . . . right after that guy from The Scream." He pulls me in close again.

"You're such an ass," I say, as our lips touch.

Holden laughs. "My girl Mona Lisa would never be so rude. ~ Paula Stokes

The whole way up he's going over the skydiving procedures. I listen as well as I can, but somewhere in the back of my head there's a voice repeating over and over, "You're going to jump out of a plane and die." "You got all that?" he asks. "Oh, yeah. Absolutely." "Okay then, tell me what you're going to do." I grin and look straight into his bright blue eyes. "Scream a lot and possibly pee my pants. ~ Kim Linwood

I am starting to hate airports and the whole business of getting onto the plane. It all takes so long I want to scream. ~ Greg Wise

A ghost doesn't just move normally. They have this freaky way of zipping across the room. You see the ghost, you blink, and then it's suddenly behind you or up in your face and you scream and dig your nails into your boyfriend's knee and the he has marks there for like a week and I hope you're putting out for all that goddamn pain you put him through when you were the one who picked the movie even when you knew it was going to be scary. ~ Dennis Liggio

Want your boat, Georgie?' Pennywise asked. 'I only repeat myself because you really do not seem that eager.' He held it up, smiling. He was wearing a baggy silk suit with great big orange buttons. A bright tie, electric-blue, flopped down his front, and on his hands were big white gloves, like the kind Mickey Mouse and Donald Duck always wore.

Yes, sure,' George said, looking into the stormdrain.

And a balloon? I've got red and green and yellow and blue...'

Do they float?'

Float?' The clown's grin widened. 'Oh yes, indeed they do. They float! And there's cotton candy...'

George reached.

The clown seized his arm.

And George saw the clown's face change.
What he saw then was terrible enough to make his worst imaginings of the thing in the cellar look like sweet dreams; what he saw destroyed his sanity in one clawing stroke.

They float,' the thing in the drain crooned in a clotted, chuckling voice. It held George's arm in its thick and wormy grip, it pulled George toward that terrible darkness where the water rushed and roared and bellowed as it bore its cargo of storm debris toward the sea. George craned his neck away from that final blackness and began to scream into the rain, to scream mindlessly into the white autumn sky which curved above Derry on that day in the fall of 1957. His screams were shrill and piercing, and all up and down Witcham Street people came to their windows or bol ~ Stephen King

The world has been your battlefield. Everywhere you go, the blood of brothers and sons screams out against you. Perhaps you cannot yet hear it, because this soil is not your own. But you will ... you will. ~ Vladimir Makarov

This was not Mr. Sears talking, not really; this was the voice of what the flask flayed raw and bloody inside his soul, what it stomped and kicked and tortured until the voice had to scream for release. ~ Robert McCammon

I always hated it when TV reporters stuck a microphone in the faces of people who'd just lost a home or a loved one, wanting to know how they felt. They felt like shit. They hurt, and they didn't know how they were going to get through the night. They wanted to scream and cry and hit the guy with the microphone. ~ Suzanne Johnson

Every muscle in my body tenses. I want to scream that it's him I want … Trent is my soul. He's the man I dream of every night. He's the man I want to fall asleep next to and grow old with. But he can't do that. ~ Corinne Michaels

But when I do feel all the strength go out of me, and I fall to my knees beside the table and I think I cry, then, or at least I want to, and everything inside me screams for just one more kiss, one more word, one more glance, one more. ~ Veronica Roth

And there's a cop over there."
"What?" the boy said, glancing at the D.C. police officer that stood at the corner of the street, "You think that guys can do a better job protecting you than I can?"
Actually, I thought Liz could have done a better job "protecting" me than he could, but instead I said, "No, I think if you don't leave me alone, I can scream and that cop will arrest you."
Somehow the boy seemed to know it was a joke ... ~ Ally Carter

It's the people who have no idea what it's like to truly be different who do scream about it. If they really knew what it was like, to feel so isolated because of that difference, they wouldn't wish it upon themselves. ~ Carrie Hope Fletcher

The sounds of people entering the kitchen snap me out of my thoughts. Before I can react, creepy moaning noises and breathless giggles erupt from the other side of my counter."Oh, Grant," a familiar voice sighs.I pop up suddenly, unable to believe my ears. Guess what I see? Jane, locked in the embrace of a balding middle aged man whom I'm pretty sure is married."Jane!" I gasp.They both scream a little and break apart, wide-eyed.
"Violet!" Jane gasps, holding a hand against her heart."I thought you were a lesbian," I blurt out.
"It's not what it - what? Why would you think I'm a lesbian?""Oh ... " I shrug. "Never mind. I should go. ~ Nicole Christie

When I was certain he was going to kill me, my mind went blank, and I didn't have any hope anymore. All I could do was scream my lungs out. I felt so helpless, I couldn't even bring myself to believe someone might save me. And then you showed up Al, and I realized that if we don't take care of each other then no one else will. So I'll do anything in my power to get our bodies back, even if it means being the militaries lap dog. And we'll just have to hope our powers are good enough to help us rise above our own limits. Because we're not Gods, we're humans, tiny insignificant humans. Who couldn't even save a little girl.
Edward- Elric ~ Hiromu Arakawa

That is why in adult life, people generally tend to relive rather than live, that is, to repeat the patterns of the past and defend the primary fantasy in the defiance, and avoid the real gamble or real adventure of taking a chance on something new. They are afraid that if they really cry out, if they really ask, if they really scream for help, that it won't come, and they'll be in the same panicky frightened state they were in when they were little. ~ Robert W. Firestone

The type of love that makes you want to laugh out loud - scream a bit - run in circles - and then repeat? Yeah that's how I felt about Wes. Totally. Out. Of. Control. Giddiness ~ Rachel Van Dyken

Nothing, until the ground comes up to meet you, and you land in a jumble of pain and shattered bones; and the scream you didn't think you had in you scrapes your throat raw as you let it out - like the first, shocked breath of a baby newly born into a universe of suffering. ~ Aliette De Bodard

My name is Toy, Master!"
I slash her breasts with the whip. "Louder!"
"My name is Toy, Master!"
I keep whipping her until the front of her body from tits to crotch is livid red. I make her rasp out her submission again and again, until her voice is hoarse and it's agony for her, and then I make her scream it some more.
Then I do the cruelest thing I've ever done. Far crueler than the whipping.
I break my rule and I lie to her. It's necessary. She needs this is as much as I do; she just can't appreciate it. She can't hold on to hope anymore. That hope, it's harming her. It's making her do foolish things.
Things that might make me kill her.
And I don't want to have to kill her ~ Ginger Talbot

The intruder took a step forward, and Moody's voice asked, "Severus Snape?" Then the dust figure rose from the end of the hall and rushed him, raising its dead hand.
"It was not I who killed you, Albus," said a quiet voice.
The jinx broke: The dust-figure exploded again, and it was impossible to make out the newcomer through the dense gray cloud it left behind.
Harry pointed his wand into the middle of it.
"Don't move!"
He had forgotten the portrait of Mrs. Black: At the sound of his yell, the curtains hiding her flew open and she began to scream, "Mudbloods and filth dishonoring my house--"
Ron and Hermione came crashing down the stairs behind Harry, wants pointing, like his, at the unknown man now standing with his arms raised in the hall below.
"Hold your fire, it's me, Remus!"
"Oh, thank goodness," said Hermione weakly, pointing her wand at Mrs. Black instead; with a bang, the curtains swished shut again and silence fell. ~ J.K. Rowling

Our species is angry on a deep level. We know something has been wrong for a long time. We are tired of being thrown the scraps. This is primal, guttural; the scream of an exhausted humanity who will not take no for an answer. ~ Christopher Zzenn Loren

The first time I tongue you into coming, it's going to be an apology. The second time will be a reward for waiting." He fell to his knees and took his first intoxicating taste of Lucy. A growl worked its way free of his chest. "The third time is going to be because I fucking love to hear you scream. ~ Tessa Bailey

I write books with words. Numerous words. Words that stomp and stare and crush and collapse and boogie and bang and scream and laugh and manipulate. My books are a storehouse of words that form paragraphs that form chapters that form stories that form thoughts that live on long after you've read the last word. ~ Brenda Sutton Rose

Lulu twirled in front of Jolene, banging into the seat. her eyes sparkled in that I'm-either-going-to-scream-or-fall-asleep-any-second kind of way. ~ Kristin Hannah

The first time he snarled, I had a bit of a panic attack."
"She screamed and threw him at me."
Dez scowled at Mace. "I did not throw my son at you. I just handed him over and walked quickly from the room so I could scream into a pillow in our bedroom."
"I found her under the bed with the dogs. ~ Shelly Laurenston

And I understand you've got a few after-market add-ons - " "Keel-mounted rail gun," Alex said with a grin. " - that scream of overcompensating for tiny, tiny penises, but might prove useful. The ~ James S.A. Corey

Hanna started to laugh uncontrollably. "Now," Bobby told her, "say, 'I'm a dying cockroach.'"
Again Hanna stopped and rolled over. "Do what?" she asked.
"You were doing good, Girl. Don't stop. Please don't stop. Quick, get back on your back."
It was his patience with her that finally convinced her to go on with the foolishness.
"That's it. Wiggle. Wiggle. Now, say, 'I'm a dying Cockroach.'"
"I cant."
"Yes you can. Say it. Say it."
Hanna started laughing so hard she could not stop.
"I'm a dying cockroach." she managed to say.
"I'm a dying cockroach, " Bobby repeated. "Say it again. Say it over and over. I'm a dying cockroach, I'm a dying cockroach. Say it."
"I'm a dying cockroach," Hanna began.
"Keep wiggling. Wiggle. Wiggle. I'm a dying cockroach."
"I'm a dying cockroach. I'm a dying fucking cockroach!"
Bobby spent nearly half an hour putting Hanna through the exercise he had experienced in the Marine Corps. He was satisfied when finally she began to scream uncontrollably as she flailed about the floor hysterically in absolute absurdity. Tears were pouring over her face. It was then that Bobby fell over her and began to hug and hold her and kiss her cheeks. "You did it!" Girl, you did it. See?" After she came back to her senses and calmed down, Bobby explained why he put her through the ordeal. "How do you feel?" he asked her.
Hanna smiled and said. "Weird. I made a fucking fool of myself."
"Great, ~ Ronald Everett Capps

Children long for this - a voice, a way of being heard - but many sense that there is no one in the world to hear their words, so they are drawn to ways of malice. If they cannot sing, they scream. They are vessels of the spirit but the spirit sometimes is entombed; it can't get out, and so they smash it! ~ Jonathan Kozol

no was a bad word in my hone
no was met with the lash
erased from our vocabulary
beaten out of our backs
till we became well-behaved kids
who obediently nodded to yes to everything
when he climbed on top of me
every part of my body wanted to reject it
but i couldn't say no to save my life
when i tried to scream
all that escaped me was silence
i heard no pounding her fist
on the roof of my mouth
begging to let her out
but i had not put up the exit sign
never built the emergency staircase
there was no trapdoor for no to escape from
i want to ask all the
parents and guardians a question
what use was obedience then
when there were hands
that were not mine inside me

- how can i verbalize consent as an adult if i was never taught to as a child ~ Rupi Kaur

Very soon she'll join all the others who know the secret and will not tell it. Or cannot. Or try and fail because they do not know enough. They can be recognized. White faces, dazed eyes, aimless gestures, high-pitched laughter. The way they walk and talk and scream or try to kill (themselves or you) if you laugh back at them. Yes, they've got to be watched. For the time comes when they try to kill, then disappear. But others are waiting to take their places, it's a long, long line. She's one of them. I too can wait - for the day when she is only a memory to be avoided, locked away, and like all memories a legend. Or a lie ... ~ Jean Rhys

No one can make you 'better' emotionally, mentally, spiritually or physically. You have to find this for yourself. You have to taste that brutal moment when you're crying in a corner of the room, curled up on the floor and you think this is your end. You have to fight to stand up, literally. And you have to walk over to your reflection and scream, scream it all out. Then you have pick up your sword and fight and never quit. This is your life. Don't let those bastards win. ~ Crystal Woods

The sun is up now, revealing all of us for what we really are.
And it's fucking blinding. ~ Derek Milman

If these weren't the worst odds he had ever faced,they came damn close.Still, he sensed the wings of panic moving through the riders and thought he might have a decent enough chance.
Thought but was destined never to know, for just then a great fluttering shattered the forest stillness,a sound somewhere between the howl of wind and the throb of drums.A terrible beating that grew louder and louder as the air thickened,becoming almost solid,and the men began to scream.
Ravens filled the sky.They swarmed from the surrounding trees,darting at the riders,going for their eyes. Even as they did,out into the clearing before the lodge ran a band of stout little men, weirdly dressed,sporting long beards, and looking as though they had just crawled from beneath a bridge. They seized the bridles of the horses and whispered to the animals, causing them to rear so violently that the riders were tumbled from their saddles and fell one after another to the ground. The birds swooped lower, still attacking,as the men huddled,arms wrapped around their heads,thrashing frantically.Before Dragon's startled gaze,the little men loosed the horses and turned to go.One,who looked somehow familiar, gave him a cocky grin and waved.
Friends in high places...and low. ~ Josie Litton

Even the birds sing in the face of death
But the rest of the world hears only a scream ~ Anonymous