Vampire With The Dragon Tatoo Quotes

Leah, wake up." Dougal sat on the edge of her bed and patted her shoulder.
"Mmm," she moaned. "What is it,Howard?"
"Howard? Are ye dreaming of Howard?"
Her eyes flickered open. "Dougal?"
"Aye, 'tis me, yer true love, Dougal."
She smiled drowsily at him. "Yes, that's true. ~ Kerrelyn Sparks

INT. DEFENSE AGAINST THE DARK ARTS CLASS - FOURTEEN YEARS PREVIOUSLY - DAY
It is Boggart time. DUMBLEDORE supervises the line of teenagers advancing to try their luck. "Riddikulus" - "Riddikulus" - gusts of hilarity as a shark becomes a flotation device, a zombie's head turns into a pumpkin, a vampire turns into a buck-toothed rabbit.
DUMBLEDORE: All right, Newt. Be brave.
16-YEAR-OLD NEWT moves to the front of the queue. The Boggart turns into a Ministry desk.
DUMBLEDORE: Mmm, that's an unusual one. So Mr. Scamander fears what more than anything else in the world?
16-YEAR-OLD NEWT: Having to work in an office, sir.
The class roars with laughter.
DUMBLEDORE: Go ahead, Newt.
16-YEAR-OLD NEWT: Riddikulus!
NEWT turns the desk into a gamboling wooden dragon and moves aside.
DUMBLEDORE: Well done. Good job. ~ J.K. Rowling

The vampire changed the music from some heavy metal thing to Sarah Mc-Lachlan's "Good Enough," which is slow, but with a beat. ~ Charlaine Harris

Maybe you're right," Kyle said. While Kyle drove, he was deep in thought, trying to grapple with the future. Briana's future. So, the green water had saved her again today. But what about tomorrow? And the next day? And the next? What was she going to do, just keep coming back to the lake and swimming down to the bottom for her green-water fix, like some sort of aquatic vampire? And what about school? She was supposed to leave for State in another week. It was a three-hour drive away. What was she going to do then? ~ Mike Wells

With horror he perceived that, by uniting himself as he had with the dead, he had cut himself off from the living. Stripped of all earthly hope, bereft of every consolation, he was rendered as poor as mortal can possibly
be on this side of the grave. ~ Johann Ludwig Tieck

Really, in a lot of ways being a cyclist is like being a vampire. First of all, both cyclists and vampires are cultural outcasts with cult followings who clumsily walk the line between cool and dorky. Secondly, both cyclists and vampires resemble normal humans, but they also lead secret double lives, have supernatural powers, and aren't governed by the same rules as the rest of humanity - though cycling doesn't come with the drawbacks of vampirism. Cyclists can ride day or night, we can consume all the garlic we want, and very few of us are afflicted with bloodlust or driven by a relentless urge to kill. ~ BikeSnobNYC

With a deep sigh, Lucius resumed pacing. "Honestly, I can't stand this going around anymore. The story is quite simple. You, Antanasia, are the last of a long line of powerful vampires. The Dragomirs. Vampire royalty."
Now that made me laugh, a squeaky, kind of hysterical laugh. "Vampire royalty. Right."
Yes. Royalty. And that is the last part of the story, which your parents still seem reluctant to relate." Lucius leaned over the table across from me, bracing his arms, staring me down. "You
are a vampire princess - the heir to the Dragomir leadership. I am a vampire prince. The heir to an equally powerful clan, the Vladescus. More powerful, I would say, but that's not the point. We
were pledged to each other in an engagement ceremony shortly after our births. ~ Beth Fantaskey

No one stays the same, David. Everything you are is a direct result of something that's affected you in your past, whether it was horrible or wonderful
no one has the right to destroy themselves because they can't deal with the pain. You have to learn from it. It's not over
the good in your life
it's not over until your dead. ~ A.M. Hudson

You've got to understand one of the tricks of the modern mind, a tendency that most people obey without noticing it. In the village or suburb outside there's an inn with the sign of St. George and the Dragon. Now suppose I went about telling everybody that this was only a corruption of King George and the Dragoon. Scores of people would believe it, without any inquiry, from a vague feeling that it's probable because it's prosaic. It turns something romantic and legendary into something recent and ordinary. And that somehow makes it sound rational, though it is unsupported by reason. Of course some people would have the sense to remember having seen St. George in old Italian pictures and French romances, but a good many wouldn't think about it at all. They would just swallow the skepticism because it was skepticism. Modern intelligence won't accept anything on authority. But it will accept anything without authority. That's exactly what has happened here. ~ G.K. Chesterton

Psychic change, as Todorov has recognized, subverted the genre in another way, by revoking the cultural taboos, the social censorship, that had prohibited the overt treatment of psychosexual themes, which then found covert expression in the supernatural tale. 'There is no need today to resort to the devil [or to posthumous reverie] in order to speak of excessive sexual desire, and none to resort to vampires in order to designate the attraction exerted by corpses: psychoanalysis, and the literature which is directly or indirectly inspired by it, deal with these matters in undisguised terms. The themes of fantastic literature have become, literally, the very themes of the psychological investigations of the last fifty years. ~ Howard Kerr

The first morning Simon had been at Amatis's house, a grinning lycanthrope had showed up on the doorstep with a live cat for him.
"Blood," he'd said, in a heavily accented voice. "For you. Fresh!"
Simon had thanked the werewolf, waited from him to leave, and let the cat go, his expression faintly green.
"We'll you're going to have to get your blood from somewhere," said Luke, looking amused.
"I have a pet cat," Simon replied. "There's no way. ~ Cassandra Clare

But death we are, and death we've always been. ~ Anne Rice

Asher was a vampire. How much more dangerous could he be with a gun? But I couldn't do it. "Let me test my understanding. Is Asher going to ride in the car with us to the meeting?"
I must to give you directions," Asher said.
Then lean against the Jeep." He frowned at me in an amused, condescending sort of way.
Excuse me?"
I don't care if you're the second coming of the Antichrist, you can't sit behind me in my own car until I know you're not carrying a weapon." Asher smiled briliantly at both of us, flashing fang.
... I could rip you into pieces with my bare hands, and you're worried I have a gun?" He chuckled, a low, skin-prickling sound. "That is so very cute. ~ Laurell K. Hamilton

It touched me to be trusted with something terrible. ~ Elizabeth Kostova

There's our homecoming picture. Last Halloween, when I dressed up as Mulan and Peter wore a dragon costume. There's a receipt from Tart and Tangy. One of his notes to me, from before. If you make Josh's dumb white-chocolate cranberry cookies and not my fruitcake ones, it's over. Pictures of us from Senior Week. Prom. Dried rose petals from my corsage. The Sixteen Candles picture.
There are some things I didn't include, like the ticket stub from our first real date, the note he wrote me that said, I like you in blue. Those things are tucked away in my hatbox. I'll never let those go.
But the really special thing I've included is my letter, the one I wrote to him so long ago, the one that brought us together. I wanted to keep it, but something felt right about Peter having it. One day all of this will be proof, proof that we were here, proof that we loved each other. It's the guarantee that no matter what happens to us in the future, this time was ours.
When he gets to that page, Peter stops. "I thought you wanted to keep this," he said.
"I wanted to, but then I felt like you should have it. Just promise you'll keep it forever."
He turns the page. It's a picture from when we took my grandma to karaoke. I sang "You're So Vain" and dedicated it to Peter. Peter got up and sang "Style" by Taylor Swift. Then he dueted "Unchained Melody" with my grandma, and after, she made us both promise to take a Korean language class at UVA. She and Peter took a ton of se ~ Jenny Han

You're welcome to join us again sometime," Bella said....
"Right. Well, I don't know." Sam looked at the ground. scuffing one boot in the dirt. "I'm usually not very good company."
"I'm hanging out with a teenager and a temperamental cat." Bella said with a small smile. "The bar is set very low around here. ~ Deborah Blake

By the time I got to high school, I had learned to be more cautious about revealing my dreams. I was reading - and therefore writing - adventure stories. This was before I'd read Isak Dinesen and Mikhail Bulgakov, before Ernest Hemingway and T. Coraghessan Boyle, before I'd read something and really felt it, when writing was still just a compulsion, and my teen-age brain was only bordering on sentience. I filled pages of white space with swashbuckling, rapier-wielding, sidekick-sacrificing, dragon-baiting romance.
(from 'High-School Confidential' in the The New Yorker.) ~ Tea Obreht

Cyclists aren't just hobbyists or lifestyle athletes; in many ways we're actually a different type of being. We're people with wheels. Really, in a lot of ways being a cyclist is like being a vampire. First of all, both cyclists and vampires are cultural outcasts with cult followings who clumsily walk the line between cool and dorky. Secondly, both cyclists and vampires resemble normal humans, but they also lead secret double lives, have supernatural powers, and aren't governed by the same rules as the rest of humanity - though ~ BikeSnobNYC

We're dealing here," said Vimes, "With a twisted mind."
"Oh, no! You think so?"
"Yes."
"But ... no ... you can't be right. Because Nobby was with us all the time."
"Not Nobby," said Vimes testily. "Whatever he might do to a dragon, I doubt if he'd make it explode. There's stranger people in this world than Corporal Nobbs, my lad."
Carrot's expression slid into a rictus of intrigued horror.
"Gosh," he said. ~ Terry Pratchett

So where do you want to cut then? My neck? Chest maybe, or we could go for something a little…" He ran his hand down his stomach and then played with the waistband of his underwear briefly. Finally, he reached down and started to hike the leg of his boxers up, pivoting his leg at the hip to point to his inner thigh. "…lower? ~ A.L. Wilson

Walking through the hospital's main entrance, with Hope's grip squeezing tight her hand, Lauren sees Saint Felicity cradling the bones of her seven murdered sons, Saint Margaret of Antioch being swallowed by a dragon, Saint Mary of Oignies cutting off chunks of her own flesh. Then a gasp as a contraction hits and the world shrinks to the size of Hope's body. The inside, even smaller than the outside. This is all there is. ~ Kirsty Logan

I hight don Quixote, I live on peyote,
marijuana, morphine and cocaine.
I never know sadness, but only a madness
that burns at the heart and the brain.
I see each charwoman, ecstatic, inhuman,
angelic, demonic, divine.
Each wagon a dragon, each beer mug a flagon
that brims with ambrosial wine. ~ Jack Parsons

You are the vampire, Merit, now and forever. But sometimes the mind needs a chance to catch up with the genetics. ~ Chloe Neill

I'm like him," she'd whispered.

"You're not," Wren said.

"I am. I'm crazy like him." She was already having panic attacks. She was already hiding at parties. In seventh grade, she'd been late to class for the first two weeks because she couldn't stand being in the halls with everyone else during passing periods. "It's probably going to get worse in a few years. That's when it usually kicks in."

"You're not," Wren said.

"But what if I am?"

"Decide not to be."

"That's not how it works," Cath argued.

"Nobody knows how it works."

"What if I don't even see it coming."

"I'll see it coming."

Cath tried to stop crying, but she'd been crying so long, the crying had taken over, making her bvreathe in harsh sniffs and jerks.

"If it takes you," Wren said. "I won't let go."

A few months later, Cath gave that line to Simon in a scene about Baz's bloodlust. Wren was still writing with Cath back then, and when she got to the line, she snorted.

"I'm here for you if you go manic," Wren said. "But you're on your own if you become a vampire."

"What good are you anyway," Cath said. Their dad was home by then. And better. And Cath didn't feel, for the moment, like her DNA was a trap ready to snap closed on her.

"Apparently, I'm good for something," Wren said. "You keep stealing all my best lines. ~ Rainbow Rowell

However difficult the future might prove, anything was worth this single, exhilarating moment. Absolutely anything.

Absolutely nothing would stop him from wreaking vengeance on the menace who had brought him to his knees. Grimly, Dragon set his mind apart from the waves of pain still resonatng within him and turned to the far more pleasant contemplation of the punishment he would inflict. No one,not even a green boy,could be pardoned for such an assault. He would have to pay and pay dearly.The only question was how.
First he had to be caught,but that was no matter. Had the imp of hell deliberately set out to mark his trail,he could not have left it clearer. Granted, Dragon was a hunter of rare skill, but it required no special talent to see where the boy had gone. His way was littered with broken branches, trampled grass, even bits of wool caught on prickler bushes. By the length of his stride, he had run as fast as a bat out of hell, which suggested he at least had a brain, much good that it would do him. ~ Josie Litton

The vampire had both his arms around the human girl, and she had both hands pressed to his chest. her throat was just inches from his mouth, but she didn't look frightened of him at all. And he didn't look like he was hunting her. I had tried to wrap my head around the idea of a coven with a pet human, but this was not close to what i had imagined. if she'd been a vampire, i would have guessed that they were together. ~ Stephenie Meyer

You belong with us, the lost of the lost, the tribe without a home, a tribe of orphans living our abandoned lives amid toys and trinkets, stuffed monkeys and bears. You're one of us now - the Tribe of the Teddy Bear. From Tribe of the Teddy Bear ~ J. Joseph Wright

Roland had the distinctive blazing eyes of a death knight, but he was no ordinary death knight. A tattoo of black fire burned on his pale-colored corpse. A set of dragon wings with razor-sharp claws sprouted from his back and a thick aura of darkness permeated the air around him.
He is a creature specifically mentioned by the Textbook of Undead Creatures that must in no circumstances be created. He can summon an entire legion of undead and is considered to be the strongest amongst undead creatures - a Death Lord. He... He was at this moment wearing a pink apron, squatting on the ground, and scrubbing the floor with a cleaning rag. ~ Yu Wo

Wrath dragged Beth into his arms and hugged her hard, talking in that other language again. When he pulled back, he ended the monologue with something like leelan.
Beth: Is that vampire talk for bitch? ~ J.R. Ward

Jane: Missy was not so subtly reminding me that she had done something nice for me and here i was being rude when all she was asking me to do was attend a nice party. This was the way southern women worked all peaches & cream laced with arsenic. ~ Molly Harper

A nightmare that's a memory. Jay really did leave me and Trey at our grandparents' house. She couldn't take care of us and her drug habit, too. That's when I learned that when people die, they sometimes take the living with them.

I saw her in the park a few months later, looking more like a red-eyed, scaly-skinned dragon than my mommy. I started calling her Jay after that - there was no way she was my mom anymore. It became my own habit that was hard to break. Still is. ~ Angie Thomas

The tattooed face of a cat, blue and grinning, covered his right hand; on one shoulder a blue rose blossomed. More markings, self-designed and self-executed, ornamented his arms and torso: the head of a dragon with a human skull between its open jaws; bosomy nudes; a gremlin brandishing a pitchfork; the word PEACE accompanied by a cross radiating, in the form of crude strokes, rays of holy light; and two sentimental concoctions - one a bouquet of flowers dedicated to MOTHER-DAD, the other a heart that celebrated the romance of DICK and CAROL, the girl whom he had married when he was nineteen, and from whom he had separated six years later in order to "do the right thing" by another young lady, the mother of his youngest child. ("I have three boys who ~ Truman Capote

There was practically nothing the dragon could do to people that they had not, sooner or later, tried on one another, often with enthusiasm. ~ Terry Pratchett