Yelling And Screaming Quotes

He understood privacy and freedom of expression were paramount to liberty, as incompatible as they may appear. One promoted yelling and screaming, while the other encouraged people to retreat and pull within. Yet, cornerstones to American democracy, people needed them both for the lives they took for granted. ~ Shelter Somerset

Putting pressure on grand juries to indict in my view is un-American. A grand jury should be allowed to be fair and impartial. They shouldn't have people yelling and screaming. ~ Rudy Giuliani

You can't abuse your voice by yelling and screaming. ~ Danielle De Niese

I love to go down to the schoolyard and watch all the little children jump up and down and run around yelling and screaming. They don't know I'm only using blanks. ~ Emo Philips

I had one family that used a lot of yelling and screaming, and that was very normal. Another side of my family, nobody would raise their voice at all. ~ Lily King

The stock exchanges have converted from "open outcry" where wild traders face each other, yelling and screaming as in a souk, then go drink together. Traders were replaced by computers, for very small visible benefits and massively large risks. While errors made by traders are confined and distributed, those made by computerized systems go wild - in August 2010, a computer error made the entire market crash (the "flash crash"); in August 2012, as this manuscript was heading to the printer, the Knight Capital Group had its computer system go wild and cause $10 million dollars of losses a minute, losing $480 million. ~ Nassim Nicholas Taleb

The coolest thing, and I have it at home, is a huge Hulk Hogan, normal-sized pinball machine. When people come over they play it for hours. When you hit the bumpers and the bells ring it goes, 'Oh yeah!' The whole time you're playing this machine it's yelling and screaming at you, 'What you gonna do, brother?!' I think that's the coolest. ~ Hulk Hogan

When I die, I want to go peacefully like my grandfather did–in his sleep. Not yelling and screaming like the passengers in his car. ~ Bob Monkhouse

I do go through a mini depression because one minute there are people yelling and screaming for me on stage and the next I'm at home and it's dead quiet. So it takes a while to come down. ~ Carrot Top

Fighting is spiritual. It appears to be physical from the layman's eyes. In my fights, I seemed to be angry and mad - all that stuff you saw me doing, the yelling and screaming and being mean in the ring - but I'm cool as a cucumber. I can hear everybody talking around me outside of the ring. I can see everybody. I know what is going on. ~ Mike Tyson

What's an orgasm? It's hard to describe, but if I'm yelling and screaming from sheer, intense, sexual pleasure, then I call that an incredible orgasm. ~ Tassa Desalada

It's not tough at all as long as the fans are yelling, screaming and hollering. ~ Bill Laimbeer

What do they think has happened, the old fools,
To make them like this? Do they somehow suppose
It's more grown-up when your mouth hangs open and drools,
And you keep on pissing yourself, and can't remember
Who called this morning? Or that, if they only chose,
They could alter things back to when they danced all night,
Or went to their wedding, or sloped arms some September?
Or do they fancy there's really been no change,
And they've always behaved as if they were crippled or tight,
Or sat through days of thin continuous dreaming
Watching the light move? If they don't (and they can't), it's strange;
Why aren't they screaming? ~ Philip Larkin

When I look up from my book, the wind has gained its full voice. This storm is the mad child of Father Time and Mother Nature. Wailing away in no predictable rhythm, their monstrous offspring's throwing a hackle-raising temper tantrum. Underscoring the hideous howl, I detect another, quieter sound, a pitiable, weak whimper which has been all but completely drowned out by the epic volume of the screaming wind. With slowly dawning terror, I realize this cowardly voice is my own; escaping through the narrow opening of my barely parted lips. Where's my dad? Why is he taking so long?
The weather ignores my whining questions and continues to whip itself into a raging convulsion. The windows rattle and the wind screams. But the sounds are no longer random.
In the midst of the chaos, the howling begins to form an elongated word. Horrified, I recognize the stretched out syllables of my own name.
"Aaaaannaaaaabelle. ~ Alyson Larrabee

Yesterday while I was on the side of the mat next to some wrestlers who were warming up for their next match, I found myself standing side by side next to an extraordinary wrestler.
He was warming up and he had that look of desperation on his face that wrestlers get when their match is about to start and their coach is across the gym coaching on another mat in a match that is already in progress.
"Hey do you have a coach." I asked him.

"He's not here right now." He quietly answered me ready to take on the task of wrestling his opponent alone.

"Would you mind if I coached you?"

His face tilted up at me with a slight smile and said. "That would be great."
Through the sounds of whistles and yelling fans I heard him ask me what my name was.

"My name is John." I replied.

"Hi John, I am Nishan" he said while extending his hand for a handshake.
He paused for a second and then he said to me: "John I am going to lose this match".

He said that as if he was preparing me so I wouldn't get hurt when my coaching skills didn't work magic with him today.

I just said, "Nishan - No score of a match will ever make you a winner. You are already a winner by stepping onto that mat."
With that he just smiled and slowly ran on to the mat, ready for battle, but half knowing what the probable outcome would be.
When you first see Nishan you will notice that his legs are frail - very frail. So f ~ JohnA Passaro

In one motion, Connor shrugged off his jacket, flung it aside, and went to her. "Where's the bedroom?" he asked in a heated voice.

She tipped her head toward the rear of the apartment. "Back there."

"Too far. I'm not sure I can last." He kissed her, a blatantly carnal kiss that reawakened all their earlier urgency, brought it screaming back to life.

"There's a couch in the living room," Julia managed, pointing to their left and shivering as Connor began unbuttoning her blouse. "That's a lot closer."

His lips burned a path from her collarbone to her throat. "Which is bigger, the couch or the bed?"

"The bed."

"Then I'll last." Connor was pulling her down the hall. "Barely. ~ Andrea Kane

It's . . . From the moment we're born we're on the Titanic. We're going down, we won't survive this, it's already been decided. Nothing can change that. But we can choose whether we're going to run around screaming in panic, or whether we're like the musicians who play on, bravely and with dignity, although the ship is sinking. ~ Benedict Wells

I thoroughly believe in crying, yelling, pulling my hair out, and experiencing heartache, BUT once I'm done I dissect the pain and learn lessons from it. ~ Lilly Singh

The Beatles realized that what they were making in the studio could never be performed. And they had already given up on performing because there were too many screaming fans and they were playing in larger and larger venues so they couldn't even hear what they were playing, it just wasn't any fun any more. ~ Tod Machover

I keep waiting for that movie moment when Reed runs out of the house, screaming for me to come back.

But it never happens.

There's no rain-filled reunion and the only moisture are the tears I can't hold back any longer. ~ Erin Watt

I pretended I was living with a television family and there was no yelling at home and no one hit me. ~ Arthur Bremer

In baseball, you can do something poorly and still get credit. A pitcher could throw a bad ball, the batter hit a screaming line drive, and an outfielder make a fantastic diving catch. Yet, when you look at historical databases, 80% of the time when a ball is struck with that trajectory and velocity, it is a hit. ~ Billy Beane

Her head felt like miniature construction workers had taken up residence. Along with jackhammers and pneumatic drills, they were now whistling at passing women and yelling "Hey, baby!" She made the pledge of hung-over idiots everywhere: I'm never drinking again. ~ Kate Meader

I used to put all my doll babies on my bed with their hands up and I would do full shows for them. I'd even do the screaming and clapping. I was bugging to be a singer. ~ Missy Elliott

The reason twenty-nine feet is such a common length for RVs, I presume, is that once a vehicle gets much longer, you need a special permit to drive it. That would mean forms and fees, possibly even background checks. But show up at any RV joint with your thigh stumps lashed to a skateboard, crazily waving your hooks-for-hands, screaming you want that twenty-nine-footer out back for a trip you ain't sayin' where, and all they want to know is: Credit or debit, tiny sir? ~ John Jeremiah Sullivan

While Missy has acquired a taste for frog legs, she still doesn't understand my fascination with catching them. One night after church, we were stopped at an intersection while driving home. Our two sons, Reed and Cole, and our daughter, Mia, were in Missy's car with us. It was raining, and I saw one of the biggest bullfrogs I've ever seen sitting in the middle of the road. I put her car in park.
"What are you about to do, Jason?" Missy asked me.
"I'm going to catch that frog," I said. "Y'all want to flag traffic for me?"
"Don't you dare get out of this car," she said.
Before she could finish her sentence, I'd jumped out of the driver's seat and was maneuvering my way to the frog. I moved toward the back of it, assumed the frog position, and then leaped on him! Missy and Mia were screaming in the car, and my boys were laughing. As I got back in the car, I explained to everyone that I probably saved that frog's life by catching him at a busy intersection. I held the frog in one hand and drove with the other the entire way home.
When I walked into the kitchen, Missy asked me, "What are you fixing to do?"
I cleaned the frog on the kitchen table and fried its legs in a frying pan.
"I can't believe you just did that," Missy said. "I thought you saved his life."
Hey, but I gave him a noble death. ~ Jase Robertson

The Thirties dreamed white marble and slip-stream chrome, immortal crystal and burnished bronze, but the rockets on the covers of the Gernsback pulps had fallen on London in the dead of night, screaming. ~ William Gibson

Feeling your body beneath me was the closest to heaven that I shall ever come." He spoke not in a whisper but on an intimate level, his voice rolling like the caress of dark velvet. "Your skin, your mouth, your body, your sweet, sweet moans, and your blood… I want them all. I want quite a bit more, actually. So you best prepare yourself, my lady. Since I'm already damned, I aim to have all of you. I want to see that look of ecstasy on your face over and over again when I'm buried deep inside you and you're screaming my name. ~ Juliette Cross

Wrath…"
"What," he murmured against her, working her with his nose. "You don't like?"
"Shut up and get back to doing - "
His tongue slipping under the panties cut her off…and made him have to slow himself down.
She was so slick and wet and soft and willing, it was all he could do to keep himself from hauling her on the rug and going at her deep and hard. And then they'd both miss out on the fun of anticipation.
Moving the cotton aside with his hand, he kissed her pink flesh, then delved in. She was oh, so ready for him, and he knew it because of the honey that he swallowed as he dragged upward in a long, slow lick.
But it wasn't enough, and holding the panties to the side was distracting. With his fang, he punctured them, then split them apart right up the middle, leaving the two halves to hang off her hips. His palms went up to her ass and squeezed hard as he quit fooling around and got busy working out his female with his mouth. He knew exactly what she liked best, the sucking and the licking and the going in with his tongue.
Closing his eyes, he took it all in, the scent and the taste and the feel of her shuddering against him as she peaked and came apart.
Behind the fly of his leathers, his cock was screaming for attention, the rasp of the buttons not nearly sufficient to satisfy what it was demanding, but tough shit.
His erection was going to have to chill for a while, because this was too sweet to stop anytime soon. < ~ J.R. Ward

He's a murdering chud," Zil was yelling.
"What do you want to do? Lynch him?" Astrid demanded.
That stopped the flow for a second as kids tried to figure out what "lynch" meant. But Zil quickly recovered.
"I saw him do it. He used his powers to kill Harry."
"I was trying to stop you from smashing my head in!" Hunter shouted.
"You're a lying mutant freak!"
"They think they can do anything they want," another voice shouted.
Astrid said, as calmly as she could while still pitching her voice to be heard, "We are not going down that path, people, dividing up between freaks and normals."
"They already did it!" Zil cried. "It's the freaks acting all special and like their farts don't stink."
That earned a laugh.
"And now they're starting to kill us," Zil cried.
Angry cheers.
Edilio squared his shoulders and stepped into the crowd. He went first to Hank, the kid with the shotgun. He tapped him on the shoulder and said, "Give me that thing."
"No way," Hank said. But he didn't seem too certain.
"You want to have that thing fire by accident and blow someone's face off?" Edilio held his hand out. "Give it to me, man."
Zil rounded on Edilio. "You going to make Hunter give up his weapon? Huh? He's got powers, man, and that's okay, but the normals can't have any weapon? How are we supposed to defend ourselves from the freaks?"
"Man, give it a rest, huh?" Edilio said. He was doing his best to sound more weary tha ~ Michael Grant

Love casts out fear; but conversely fear casts out love. And not only love. Fear also casts out intelligence, casts out goodness, casts out all thought of beauty and truth. What remains in the bum or studiedly jocular desperation of one who is aware of the obscene Presence in the corner of the room and knows that the door is locked, that there aren't any windows. And now the thing bears down on him. He feels a hand on his sleeve, smells a stinking breath, as the executioner's assistant leans almost amorously toward him. "Your turn next, brother. Kindly step this way." And in an instant his quiet terror is transmuted into a frenzy as violent as it is futile. There is no longer a man among his fellow men, no longer a rational being speaking articulately to other rational beings; there is only a lacerated animal, screaming and struggling in the trap. For in the end fear casts out even a man's humanity. And fear, my good friends, fear is the very basis and foundation of modern life. Fear of the much touted technology which, while it raises out standard of living, increases the probability of our violently dying. Fear of the science which takes away the one hand even more than what it so profusely gives with the other. Fear of the demonstrably fatal institutions for while, in our suicidal loyalty, we are ready to kill and die. Fear of the Great Men whom we have raised, and by popular acclaim, to a power which they use, inevitably, to murder and enslave us. Fear of the war we don't ~ Aldous Huxley

My mother taught me to read hands at the same time she taught me to apply polish. Not by reading the lines of a palm, but the way she'd learned from her mother and her mother before her, by touch, decoding the curves of the hand without looking. Carlito never knew about our ability. Our mother never shared those things with him. She said there were some things that were meant to stay between mothers and daughters. It was by holding my brother's hands, once when I went to see him at the jail during the first days after his arrest, running my fingers over the rough swells at the base of his fingers, that I knew that even though Carlito was still screaming injustice, he was guilty and would never again walk free. ~ Patricia Engel

Well … Zeus approves, Aeolus muttered. ―He says … he says it would be better if you could avoid saving her until after the weekend, because he has a big party planned - Ow! That's Aphrodite yelling at him, reminding him that the solstice starts at dawn. She says I should help you. And Hephaestus… yes. Hmm. Very rare they agree on anything. Hold on ~ Rick Riordan

The forests had put on their sober brown and yellow, while some trees of the tenderer kind had been nipped by the frosts into brilliant dyes of orange, purple, and scarlet. Streaming files of wild ducks began to make their appearance high in the air; the back of the squirrel might be heard from the groves of beech and hickory-nuts, and the pensive whistle of the quail at intervals from the neighboring stubble field. The small birds were taking their farewell banquets. In the fullness of their revelry, they fluttered, chirping and frolicking from bush to bush, and tree to tree, capricious from the very profusion and variety around them. There was the honest cock robin, the favorite game of stripling sportsmen, with its loud querulous note; and the twittering blackbirds flying in sable clouds; and the golden-winged woodpecker with his crimson crest, his broad black gorget, and splendid plumage; and the cedar bird, with its red-tipt wings and yellow-tipt tail and its little monteiro cap of feathers; and the blue jay, that nosy coxcomb, in his gay light blue coat and white underclothes, screaming and chattering, nodding and bobbing and bowing, and pretending to be on good terms with every songster of the grove. ~ Washington Irving

I'm asking you to marry me within the next hour." He simply looked at her. "I can't think of a reason why you should. I have no moral sense to speak of. I lie, I cheat, I steal, and I'll probably drive you away screaming within the week. But if you marry me, I'll only do those things on your behalf. ~ Courtney Milan

I lifted one foot from the brackish water, and the bunny slippers were soaked and drooped pathetically. Even the fangs seemed robbed of any charm. "Don't worry," I told it. "Someone will pay for your suffering. Heavily. With screaming." I felt I should repeat it for the other slipper, in case there should be any bad feelings between the two. One should never create tension between ones's footwear.
POV is Myrnin, page 221 ~ Rachel Caine

I chose the light amidst the lurking darkness. I chose calmness and stillness among a crowd bathing in chaos. I chose happiness over screaming negativity around and I chose to be ME over the temptation of being like somebody else. ~ Elizabeth E. Castillo

The times, the seasons, the signs may have been mythical; but the sufferings were not. I lay in the dark with the breathing of men around me and knew that then, at that selfsame moment, where dawn groped across the sea, my brethren lay bound in ships, one body atop another, smelling of their green wounds and faeces; I knew in dark houses, there was torture, arms held down, firebrands approaching the soft skin of the belly or arm; and still - there is screaming in the night; there is flight; mothers sob for children they shall not see again; girls feel the weight of men atop them; men cry for their wives; boys dangle dead in the barn; and we smoke their sorrow contentedly; and we eat their sorrow; and we wear their sorrow; and wonder how it came so cheap.
It was for this that we labored and fought, risking our very lives. ~ M.T. Anderson

We have no power over the attitudes and actions of other people. We can't make our spouse grow up. We can't stop our spouse from exhibiting a troublesome habit or character flaw. We can't force our spouse to come home on time for dinner, to refrain from yelling at us, or to initiate conversations with us. The fruit of the Spirit is self-control, not other-control (Galatians 5:23). God himself does not exercise such power over us, even though he could (2 Peter 3:9). ~ Henry Cloud

In some ways, except that in that movie [Skyfall] I was mostly screaming and running away from the bad guys, whereas in this one I'm generally jumping into the action and fighting with them. So, yeah, it was somewhat similar, but also very different. ~ Naomie Harris

You whom I could not save,
Listen to me.

Can we agree Kevlar
backpacks shouldn't be needed

for children walking to school?
Those same children

also shouldn't require a suit
of armor when standing

on their front lawns, or snipers
to watch their backs

as they eat at McDonalds.
They shouldn't have to stop

to consider the speed
of a bullet or how it might

reshape their bodies. But
one winter, back in Detroit,

I had one student
who opened a door and died.

It was the front
door to his house, but

it could have been any door,
and the bullet could have written

any name. The shooter
was thirteen years old

and was aiming
at someone else. But

a bullet doesn't care
about "aim," it doesn't

distinguish between
the innocent and the innocent,

and how was the bullet
supposed to know this

child would open the door
at the exact wrong moment

because his friend
was outside and screaming

for help. Did I say
I had "one" student who

opened a door and died?
That's wrong.

There were many.
The classroom of grief

had far more seats
than the classroom for math

though every student
in the classroom for math

could count the names
of the ~ Matthew Olzmann

People are always rattling on about what "we" should do, whether they are talking about "their" country or "their" race or all of humanity or some other abstract group of humans who don't give a damn what they think about anything.

Who is "We?" Who can you legitimately speak for? Who cares what you say?

If you don't know, you're just running our mouth. You're just some guy yelling at the TV during a football game. Your "we" can't hear you and if they could, they wouldn't care anyway. ~ Jack Donovan

Papi looked down at the side-view mirror, at the pine branches sticking out from behind the truck, and every time Rocio raised her voice, singing and screaming at the same time, it felt like the front seats were flooding with water. ~ Mario Alberto Zambrano

Now, Bran, the crow urged. Choose. Fly or die. Death reached for him, screaming. Bran spread his arms and flew. ~ George R R Martin

I blaze with a deep sullen magic, smell lust like a heron on fire; all words I form into castles then storm them with soldiers of air. What I seek is not there for asking. My armies are fit and well trained. This poet will trust her battalions to fashion her words into blades. At dawn I shall ask them for beauty, for proof that their training went well. At night I shall beg their forgiveness as I cut their throats by the hill. My navies advance through the language, destroyers ablaze in high seas. I soften the island for landings. With words, I enlist a dark army. My poems are my war with the world. I blaze with a deep southern magic. The bombardiers taxi at noon. There is screaming and grief in the mansions and the moon is a heron on fire. ~ Pat Conroy

She dreamed she was back in that cell, fighting off the guard - Halmond - pulling back the knife to stab him. Only in the dream, he wrested it from her fingers and slammed it into her gut, and she gasped, her eyes closing and then opening to see, not Halmond holding the blade, but Gavril.
Moria shot upright, screaming, still feeling the agony of the blade buried in her gut, and then she saw Gavril, right there, his hands on her shoulders, saying her name. She fought wildly, half asleep, seeing Gavril's face in both dream and reality, his cold and empty expression as he plunged the blade in deeper, and then the other Gavril, his eyes wide with alarm, her name on his lips, his hand over her mouth to stifle her cries.
"It's all right," he said. "It's me. I'm here."
She kicked and clawed, biting his hand and struggling with everything she had while he fought to restrain her, muttering, "Not the right thing to say, apparently. ~ Kelley Armstrong

If you hear screaming, it's my meltdown. Do me a favor and make sure I stay dressed."
Those hazel eyes took their sweet time taking in every inch of my body. "I make no promises. ~ Ashlan Thomas