Bad Throat Quotes & Sayings

Tell me you need me, Alexis. Tell me you need this as fucking bad as I do. Tell me it's okay. Tell me I'm not the only one who's losing his mind." The words grated, rugged and fuelled by need.
Emotion thickened in my throat, so heavy, so right. "I need you."
The last threads of whatever was holding Zee back snapped. — A.L. Jackson

Bad news is, they've figured out I'm alive. Worse news, I can't be sure about them. Their decomposing stench burns my throat. They don't sound very big. Maybe they're pygmy zombies. — A.G. Howard

It's not so bad."
Melancholia looked at her. "You're lying."
"I'll get used to it. So will you."
"I ... I don't think I'll be able to."
"I'll be there to help when you need it."
"But I hate you."
Valkyrie smiled. "No you don't."
"No, I do. I want to kill you and stuff."
"We actually became friends in those caves."
"That's not what happened, " said Melancholia.
"We're pals. We're buddies."
"If my wrists weren't in shackles, my hands would be round your throat."
"You want to hug my throat because we're friends. — Derek Landy

Well?" he asked, smiling devilishly. "I promise, I won't hurt you, Nikki. In fact, I imagine you'll enjoy my company, tremendously."
I let out a ragged sigh and nodded.
He stared at my mouth. "I'd like to hear you say it."
I cleared my throat. "Come in, Ethan. — Kristen Middleton

If you weren't humping, you were waiting. I remember the monotony. Digging foxholes. Slapping mosquitoes. The sun and the heat and the endless paddies. Even in the deep bush, where you could die any number of ways, the war was nakedly and aggressively boring. But it was a strange boredom. It was boredom with a twist, the kind of boredom that caused stomach disorders. You'd be sitting at the top of a high hill, the flat paddies stretching out below, and the day would be calm and hot and utterly vacant, and you'd feel the boredom dripping inside you like a leaky faucet, except it wasn't water, it was a sort of acid, and with each little droplet you'd feel the stuff eating away at important organs. You'd try to relax. You'd uncurl your fists and let your thoughts go. Well, you'd think, this isn't so bad. And right then you'd hear gunfire behind you and your nuts would fly up into your throat and you'd be squealing pig squeals. That kind of boredom. I — Tim O'Brien

When someone cries so hard that it hurts their throat, it is out of frustration or knowing that no matter what you can do or attempt to do can change the situation. When you feel like you need to cry, when you want to just get it out, relieve some of the pressure from the inside - that is true pain. Because no matter how hard you try or how bad you want to, you can't. That pain just stays in place. Then, if you are lucky, one small tear may escape from those eyes that water constantly. That one tear, that tiny, salty, droplet of moisture is a means of escape. Although it's just a small tear, it is the heaviest thing in the world. And it doesn't do a damn thing to fix anything. — Chase Brooks

One thing I can say about our band is this. If you got something good to lay on us, enlighten us, but if you got something bad to lay on us, you can get your teeth knocked clean down your throat man. Dangerous people. Lovely people. — Duane Allman

I'm not Prince Charming. I'm the bad guy that sneaks into the castle when Prince Charming is off singing songs in the woods. I'm the one with the big cock that bends needy Cinderella over. And I'm the one that makes her scream until her throat's raw and she can't sing a note. — Kenya Wright

She stared at his sharp teeth and swallowed the lump
that formed in her throat. "Um, you look scary when you
show your ... uh ... teeth. They look really sharp."
He didn't get angry. In fact, her words seemed to
amuse him greatly. "The better to eat you with," he
teased softly.
Tammy's heart flipped inside her chest. "That's a bad
joke, right? Please tell me you're just kidding."
"I'm not a wolf."
"I'm not wearing red."
"I still want to eat you. — Laurann Dohner

She touched my throat with her teeth."

"Well," Drew said quietly, "that can be extremely hot, or extremely bad if the trust isn't there first."

"I should've been able to handle it."

"Bullshit." Drew snorted. "If Hawke went for my throat, I'd freeze the fucking hell where I was and start thinking of way to convince him that whatever he though I did, I didn't do."

Felix knew Drew, knew how the other man used humor to get through people, but he couldn't laugh this time. "Hawke isn't your lover."

"That's true. He's not really my type. I mean, with that hair and everything. — Nalini Singh

I was going to say, No, no, don't cry, I'll go out
with you. Anything, but don't cry ... But I still
couldn't make my voice work.
And then he sort of cleared his throat and said,
Georgia, don't feel bad.
It's always tough to hurt someone and tell them the truth. I know that. You're a really lovely girl. Lovely ... mad ... but
lovely. I'll always like you. Don't worry. — Louise Rennison

Magic," he said. Black magic. Strong magic. Dead magic. "Bad magic." Finally, Lila slipped. For the briefest moment, her eyes flicked to a chest along the wall. Kell didn't hesitate. He lunged for the top drawer, but before his fingers met the wood, a knife found his throat. It had come out of nowhere. A pocket. A sleeve. A thin blade resting just below his chin. Lila's smile was as sharp as its metal edge. "Sit down before you fall down, magic boy." Lila — V.E Schwab

The fake giggle is not that bad."
My friend grunted in disagreement. "It sounds like Miss Piggy has a machine gun stuck in her throat. — Samantha Young

My prince was not the worst, by all I've gathered, but he was bad enough. He was beautiful like stars are beautiful, like angels are suppose to be. Cold, alien, pristine. Being with him was like drinking the most delicate champange all the time, until I didn't care that when he laughed there were teeth all the long way down his throat. — Tessa Gratton

If it weren't for dreams," he said. "I wouldn't know half the things I know about the future. They're better than Olympus tabloids." He cleared his throat then held up his hands dramatically:
"Dreams like a podcast,
Downloading truth in my ears.
They tell me cool stuff"
"Apollo?" I guessed, because I figured nobody else could make a haiku that bad.
He put his finger to his lips, "[Shh] I'm incognito. Call me Fred. — Rick Riordan

Listen and listen good, shitbrain. If you ever touch someone I love again, I will shove this cross down your throat and watch you choke on it. You want to know why a Prince of Hell wanted me so bad? Now you do. I'm not a nice girl. I'm a Seer. It is my job to save the people of the world from vultures like you. Now you take that back to whoever your boss is and let him come find me, if he's stupid enough. I'll bury you all if I have to. — Kyoko M.

I'm going to say this slowly and use little words in the hope you can follow along. If you call me Elisabeth again, I'll make sure you can never father children. Tell anyone else whose niece I am and you'll be sucking air out of a tube in your throat. Chris laughs and it's the deep, throaty kind that tells me the shit we're entering is bad. — Katie McGarry

I watched him take a drink, swirl it around in his mouth like a fine wine, and then swallow it. The working of his throat made me hot, but that was nothing compared to what the intensity of his stare did to me. "Not bad," he murmured. "Tell me if we made it right." He kissed me. — Sylvia Day

Thorne shuffled his feet. "You know, if it was a bad kiss, you can just say so."
She stiffened. "That's not at all what I ... Wait. Did you think it was a bad kiss?"
"No," he said, with an abrupt, clumsy laugh. "I thought it was ... um." He cleared his throat. "But there were clearly a lot of expectations, and a lot of pressure, and ... " He squirmed in the chair. "We were going to die, you know."
"I know." She squeezed her knees into her chest. "And, no, it wasn't ... I didn't think it was a bad kiss."
"Oh, thank the stars. — Marissa Meyer

Chessie ... shit, Chessie, I love you so bad." His teeth on her throat, biting hard, his lips soothing the spot. "So fucking much, so ... so bad. — Stacia Kane

He chuckled low in his throat as he slowly eased away, leaving he momentarily confused and bereft, her body keenly aware of the abrupt loss of pleasure.
His eyes gleamed like gold coins. "You taste every bit as sweet as you look, my dear." He skimmed the back of one finger over her cheek. "Maybe this bargain we're making won't be such a bad one after all. — Tracy Anne Warren

older brother was to make sure he did as Graham wasn't going out that night because he had a very bad head cold and a sore throat, neither of which were very conducive to enjoying dancing the night away in the smoky atmosphere of a club. Jean and Dee — Lyn Andrews

Then viselike fingers clenched my throat, the stake was wrenched from my hand, and a sharp stabbing pain shot up my right thigh as I landed on the ground with a thump that knocked the breath out of me.
And as if that wasn't bad enough, once I landed, something hard and heavy - his knee, I thought - hit me right in the sternum. You know, just in case there was one last breath left in my lungs. The point of the stake scraped the sensitive skin just under my chin. I looked up, wheezing, into Archer's face. — Rachel Hawkins

Gen. What are you - " Curtis stopped when his voice came out sounding like Clint Eastwood. He coughed, trying to clear his throat. Genesis smiled back at him and picked up a cup of water from his hospital tray. He was so gentle when lifting Curtis' head, he had to remembering to stop swooning like a fangirl and swallow. Genesis delicately rested his head back on the pillow. "If you're trying to ask, what I'm doing here, we have a date remember?" Genesis said in the sexiest voice Curtis had ever heard. Damn. How many voices does this man have? "Our date isn't until Friday," Curtis croaked. "It is Friday," Genesis said with a serious expression. Curtis bolted upright. "What?" he yelled, wincing at the pain that stupid move caused. Genesis put his hand on his chest, gently pushing him back down, trying to contain his deep laughter. "Sorry. Bad joke to play on a concussion patient." Curtis rolled his eyes. "You're an ass, Gen." Genesis — A.E. Via

We men are all in a fever of excitement, except Harker, who is calm. His hands are cold as ice, and an hour ago I found him whetting the edge of the great Ghoorka knife which he now always carries with him. It will be a bad lookout for the Count if the edge of that "Kukri" ever touches his throat, driven by that stern, ice-cold hand! — Bram Stoker

Durzo cleared his throat. "I've got bad news ... Life being unfair and all that ... "
"Oh, great. What is it?" [replied Kylar]
"Luc Graesin? Kid you died on the wheel to save?"
"It was more for Logan than for Luc, but what about Luc?"
"Hanged himself," Durzo said.
...
"Are you joking? After what I did for him? That asshole! — Brent Weeks

I was, like, a brown belt, which is pretty good. I entered a tournament once, and I punched the guy in the throat and got disqualified. I realized - I don't know if you're familiar with "Karate Kid," but the bad guys in that are called Cobra Kai, and they're, like, the evil karate guys. And then when I went to the tournament, I realized that's what we were; we were like the Cobra Kai of the Jewish karate community. — Seth Rogen

Stay out of this," she (Christy) snapped at me, wiping futilely at her cheeks. "This isn't your business."
"When you blamed Adam, whose only fault that I can see is that he has poor taste in wives, you made it my business," I told her.
Honey cleared her throat. "You do know you are one of his wives, right?"
I raised an eyebrow. "Happily, he doesn't know how bad off he is with me - and I intend that he never will. — Patricia Briggs

The knives in my apartment are only sharp enough to open envelopes with. Cutting a slice of coarse bread is on the borderline of their ability. I don't need anything sharper. Otherwise, on bad days, it might easily occur to me that I could always go stand in the bathroom in front of the mirror and slit my throat. On such occasions it's nice to have the added security of needing to go downstairs and borrow a decent knife from a neighbor. — Peter Hoeg

I don't know," I said, teasingly. "How do I know it's really you? I don't want to let a serial killer into the building. Tell me something only I would know, so I can be sure it's you."
I walked over to the buzzer, smiling as I poised my hand over the button to let him up as soon as he responded.
"The first time we kissed, we were in your bedroom at your mom's house and Better Than Ezra was playing on your iPod."
My smiled faded and my breath caught in my throat. It took all I had to push the button to let him into the building. I hung up the phone, as my heart started pounding in my chest. I felt bad hanging up, but he probably would have lost reception in the elevator anyway. Of all the things he could have said, he had to pick that one. — Monica Alexander

It was a queer, sultry summer, the summer they executed the Rosenbergs, and I didn't know what I was doing in New York. I'm stupid about executions. The idea of being electrocuted makes me sick, and that's all there was to read about in the papers
goggle-eyed headlines staring up at me at every street corner and at the fusty, peanut-smelling mouth of every subway. It had nothing to do with me, but I couldn't help wondering what it would be like, being burned alive all along your nerves.
I thought it must be the worst thing in the world.
New York was bad enough. By nine in the morning the fake, country-wet freshness that somehow seeped in overnight evaporated like the tail end of a sweet dream. Mirage-gray at the bottom of their granite canyons, the hot streets wavered in the sun, the car tops sizzled and glittered, and the dry, cindery dust blew into my eyes and down my throat. — Sylvia Plath

They are one of the most unpleasant races in the galaxy - not actually evil, but bad tempered, bureaucratic, officious and callous. They wouldn't even lift a finger to save their own grandmothers from the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal without an order, signed in triplicate, sent in, sent back, queried, lost, found, subjected to public enquiry, lost again, and finally buried in soft peat for three months and recycled as firelighters. If you want to get a lift from a Vogon, forget it. They are vile and ill tempered. If you want to get a drink from a Vogon, stick your finger down his throat. If you want to annoy a vogon, feed his grandmother to the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal. — Douglas Adams

In other words, he looked like uniformed police hotness, and she wasn't entirely uninterested in being cuffed. Wait. That's a bad thought. I don't mean it. She took him in again, her throat suddenly dry. Well, she didn't exactly not mean it, but she knew better than to want it. — Cindi Madsen

I made him take some broth," Lillian explained. "I had the devil of a time getting him to swallow - he wasn't precisely what one would call conscious - but I persisted until I had poured a quarter cup or so down his throat. I think he relented in the hopes that I was a bad dream that might go away if he humored me."
Evie had been unable to induce Sebastian to drink anything since the previous morning. "You are the most wonderful - "
"Yes, yes, I know." Lillian airily waved away the words, uncomfortable as always with praise. "Your tray was just brought up - it's there on the table by the window. Mulled eggs and toast. Eat every bite, dear. I should hate to have to use force on you too. — Lisa Kleypas

Nerves," Mik told Karou.
"Bad?"
"Terrible." Stepping up behind Zuzana, he bent down to enfold her in a spoon-hug. "Ferociously, dreadfully awful. She's unbearable. You take her. I've had enough."
Zuzana batted at him, then squealed as he buried his face in the curve of her throat and made exaggerated kissing noises. — Laini Taylor

You must be Sara." Lucas extended his hand.
Sara slipped her hand into Lucas's. "That's me. And you are?"
"Lucas Parker, Kylie's boyfriend."
Boyfriend? Kylie's breath caught. The water slipping down her throat went down the wrong pipe. She started coughing so hard, the sound bounced around the high beams of the dining hall. If that wasn't bad enough, her mom, who'd been sipping on a diet soda, did the same thing.
Crap! If there was one person in the dining hall who hadn't already stared at them, they did now. — C.C. Hunter

I hate to say this, but it is my experience that when a doctor goes to the bad, he is a fouler and darker creature than the worst cut-throat. — Neil Gaiman

He cleared his throat and held up one hand dramatically.
"Green grass breaks through snow.
Artemis pleads for my help.
I am so cool."
He grinned at us, waiting for applause.
"That last line was four syllables." Artemis said.
Apollo frowned. "Was it?"
"Yes. What about I am so bigheaded?"
"No, no, that's six syllable, hhhm." He started muttering to himself.
Zoe Nightshade turned to us. "Lord Apollo has been going through this haiku phase ever since he visited Japan. Tis not as bad as the time he visited Limerick. If I'd had to hear one more poem that started with, There once was a godess from Sparta-"
"I've got it!" Apollo announced. "I am so awesome. That's five syllables!" He bowed, looking very pleased with himself. — Rick Riordan

My throat feels tight. "But I betrayed you. I left you."
"You're my daughter. I don't care about the factions."
She shakes her head. "Look where they got us. Human beings as a whole cannot be good for long before the bad creeps in and poisons us again. — Veronica Roth

There was someone in his little attic room. Geralt knew it before he even reached the door, sensing it through the barely perceptible vibration of his medallion. He blew out the oil lamp which had lit his path up the stairs, pulled the dagger from his boot, slipped it into the back of his belt and pressed the door handle. The room was dark. But not for a witcher. He was deliberately slow in crossing the threshold; he closed the door behind him carefully. The next second he dived at the person sitting on his bed, crushed them into the linen, forced his forearm under their chin and reached for his dagger. He didn't pull it out. Something wasn't right. "Not a bad start," she said in a muffled voice, lying motionless beneath him. "I expected something like this, but I didn't think we'd both be in bed so quickly. Take your hand from my throat please." "It's — Andrzej Sapkowski

Bad men you want to kiss are the worst; he had only to use the right tone of voice and you offered your throat to the knife. — Patrick Gale

You won't let anything bad happen to me, will you, Garrett?"
A lump the size of Massachusetts lodges in my throat. I swallow hard and try to speak past it.
"Never. — Elle Kennedy

He's probably out there in the hallway right now, composing bad poetry in his head." Michi cleared her throat, her voice taking on a breathless lilt:
"Pale Fox's Daughter,
Her cherry lips haunt my dreams.
Something, something, breasts ... — Jay Kristoff

We all have regrets,' Leo said, taking a sip of brandy, letting the velvet fire slide down his throat. 'It's why I cling to my bad habits. One doesn't have to start regretting something unless one stops doing it. — Lisa Kleypas

At first he thought he felt bad because he was afraid of leading an army, but it wasn't true. He knew he'd make a good commander. He felt himself wanting to cry. He hadn't cried since the first few days of homesickness after he got here. He tried to put a name on the feeling that put a lump in his throat and made him sob silently, however much he tried to hold it down. He bit down on his hand to stop the feeling, to replace it with pain. It didn't help. — Orson Scott Card

People think bigger movies are bad, and that's just not true - there's bad big films, and there's bad little ones. The bad big ones have to make their money back, so they'll push them down your throat, but the little ones just disappear if they're bad. — Jon Favreau

She cleared her throat but still her voice came out much too huskily. "Are you all right? I didn't see you there. I didn't mean to kick you."
He was looking at her, examining her, and he smiled crookedly. "You look good in the morning, Al."
Her hair was stringy, her eyes were tired and puffy, and she had on absolutely no makeup. "I look like hell."
"Whoa, that's pretty harsh language for you."
"You look like hell, too."
"Hell is an improvement for me," he told her. "In fact, I consider it a compliment. See, shit's my usual look. On really bad days, I look like total shit. So, yeah, hell is a big step up for me." His smile made his eyes crinkle. "So, thank you very much."
Alessandra couldn't keep from smiling back. — Suzanne Brockmann

Marie came with the brandy and poured a glass for Rebekah - then one for Ian, at Rebekah's gesture, and when Jamie made a small polite noise in his throat, half-filled his cup, pouring in more tea on top of it. The taste was peculiar, but he didn't really mind. The pain had gone off to the far side of the room; he could see it sitting over there, a wee glowering sort of purple thing with a bad-tempered expression on its face. He laughed at it, and Ian frowned at him. "What are ye giggling at?" Jamie couldn't think how to describe the pain beastie, so he just shook his head, which proved a mistake - the pain looked suddenly gleeful and shot back into his head with a noise like tearing cloth. The room spun and he clutched the table with both hands. — Diana Gabaldon

Oh, don't be afraid of dreams," a voice said right next to me. I looked over. Somehow, I wasn't surprised to find the homeless guy from the rail yard sitting in the shotgun seat. His jeans were so worn out they were almost white. His coat was ripped, with stuffing coming out. He looked kind of like a teddy bear that had been run over by a truck. "If it weren't for dreams," he said, "I wouldn't know half the things I know about the future. They're better than Olympus tabloids." He cleared his throat, then held up his hands dramatically: "Dreams like a podcast, Downloading truth in my ears. They tell me cool stuff." "Apollo?" I guessed, because I figured nobody else could make a haiku that bad. He put his finger to his lips. "I'm incognito. Call me Fred." "A god named Fred?" "Eh, well ... Zeus insists on certain rules. Hands off, when there's a human quest. Even when something really major is wrong. But nobody messes with my baby sister. Nobody." "Can — Rick Riordan

She didn't need to know how messed up in the head he was. How utterly pathetic he was. It had been months, for fuck's sake. He wasn't supposed to still feel like curling up into a ball, closing his eyes and hoping it was all just a bad dream and Jared wasn't out of his life forever.
Forever.
His throat closed up and Gabriel started walking faster. He wanted fresh air. He hated hospitals. Hated that every tall, dark-haired man in a white coat made his breath hitch. It was fucking stupid. Jared rarely wore white coats; he favored scrubs. But maybe Jared wore them now. It wasn't like he would know. — Alessandra Hazard

As they climbed it, the various Healers called out to them, diagnosing odd complaints and suggesting horrible remedies. Ron was seriously affronted when a medieval wizard called out that he clearly had a bad case of spattergroit.
"And what's that supposed to be?" he asked angrily, as the Healer pursued him through six more portraits, shoving the occupants out of the way.
" 'Tis a most grievous affliction of the skin, young master, that will leave you pockmarked and more gruesome even than you are now - "
"Watch who you're calling gruesome!" said Ron, his ears turning red.
"The only remedy is to take the liver of a toad, bind it tight about your throat, stand naked by the full moon in a barrel of eels' eyes - "
"I have not got spattergroit!"
"But the unsightly blemishes upon your visage, young master - "
"They're freckles!" said Ron furiously. — J.K. Rowling

I know I'm not exactly Prince Charming material right now. Zipper-head, gimpy hand and all the rest." There was a tremor in his voice and he cleared his throat. "The thing is, I seem to have fallen in love with you, Leah Mathews. Bad timing, I know. But there it is. And I really need to know if there might be a chance that maybe you feel the same way about me. — Sarah Mayberry

Of course no one accused the old woman of being a witch. But she was foreign. Her words percolated up the tunnel of her throat , espresso-thick and strong. Bad weather had eroded her face. Some believed that the sun had crisped her skin into coriaceous pleats. Others blamed the chaw of a wintry climate. No one knew where she came from, though lots of people privately thought that perhaps she ought to go back. — Carys Bray

I thought it was ... um." He cleared his throat. "But there were clearly a lot of expectations, and a lot of pressure, and ... " He squirmed in the chair. "We were going to die, you know."
"I know." She squeezed her knees into her chest. "And, no, it wasn't ... I didn't think it was a bad kiss."
"Oh, thank the stars." His head fell back against the chair. "Because if I'd ruined that for you, I was going to feel like such a cad. — Marissa Meyer

He cleared his throat, "Zoe, i think you said you love me."
"I did say it. I do love you with all my heart."
"I see." There was a long pause, then he said, "For how long has this been going on?"
"I don't know," she said, "Sometimes i think it started a long, long time ago."
"You might have mentioned it."
"I didn't want to encourage it," she said, "I thought it was a bad idea. — Loretta Chase

He told me how special you are," he said, flashing Shay an unfriendly smile. "Because of your great-great-times-a-hundred-grandmother Eira who got us into this mess when she became a demon's mistress." "Thanks for reminding me," Shay said. "So now you know why you and Calla were supposed to cut my throat instead of a cake at your wedding. Too bad that didn't happen." Ren Stiffened. "I'm not sorry you made it out of Vail alive. As for the rest of it ... we'll see how that turns out, won't we? — Andrea Cremer

I heard the man and woman cry a warning as I frantically racked my brain for some sort of throat-repairing spell, which I was clearly about to need. Of course the only words that I actually managed to yell at the werewolf as he ran at me were, 'BAD DOG!'
Then, out of the corner of my eye, I caught a flash of blue light on my left. Suddenly, the werewolf seemed to smack into an invisible wall just inches in front of me ...
"You know," someone said off to my left, "I usually find a blocking spell to be a lot more effective than yelling 'Bad dog,' but maybe that's just me. — Rachel Hawkins

But there are still plenty of people who will tell you that the most evil thing about Karl Marx was what he said about religion. He said it was the opium of the lower classes, as though he thought religion was bad for people, and he wanted to get rid of it. But when Marx said that, back in the 1840s, his use of the word "opium" wasn't simply metaphorical. Back then real opium was the only painkiller available, for toothaches or cancer of the throat, or whatever. He himself had used it. As a sincere friend of the downtrodden, he was saying he was glad they had something which could ease their pain at least a little bit, which was religion. He liked religion for doing that, and certainly didn't want to abolish it. OK? He might have said today as I say tonight, "Religion can be Tylenol for a lot of unhappy people, and I'm so glad it works. — Kurt Vonnegut

I have an orthopedic pillow that's made out of a sponge material. I have a plate in my throat, and I have to be careful or I could end up with a bad neck in the morning. That pillow is a must everywhere I go. — Lee Trevino

I hate milk. Coats your throat as bad as okra. Something just downright disgusting about it. — Marsha Norman