Blood Rites Quotes & Sayings

Dies iral, dies illa
Solvet Saeclum in Favilla
Teste David cum Silylla
That Day of Wrath, that day of burning
Seer and Sibly speak concerning
All the world to ashes turning — George Smith

The reverend began droning the oft-repeated rites and vows of the marriage ceremony. He dared not look either participant in the eye, but directed the promises of love, honor, and obedience to the lofty bookshelves. Only once did he make the mistake of focusing on anything more animated, and then only because the cut over the groom's eye had begun to leak again and a bright red spot of blood dripped onto the front of his shirt, staining the stark whiteness of the silk like an omen of tragedy to come. — Marsha Canham

The shoes represent my ability to provide foot coverings for you and maybe one day our children." Fane cleared his throat and continued, fumbling along as he went.
"You see, it is important that you know that you won't be without something on your feet, so-" Jacque held up her hand to stop Fane from going any further.
"There are no shoes in this box, are there?" Fane shook his head once. "Not one."
Loftis, Quinn (2011-11-18). Blood Rites: Book 2 Grey Wolves Series (The Grey Wolves Series) (p. 243). Kindle Edition. — Quinn Loftis

These are used solely for Blood Rites. (Leo)
Is that like special ed? (Susan) — Sherrilyn Kenyon

Kiss me, k-k-kiss me, infect me with your love, and fill me with your poison, take me, t-t-take me, wanna be your victim, ready for abduction boy, you're a werewolf, your touch is so furry, its supernatural, extra-werewolf-iestrial, Jen sung as loud as she could. — Quinn Loftis

Well, Lord Debonair and Lady Lethal, if we can have a minute of your time, we do have a psycho to hunt. (Allen)
(Jess glared over his shoulder at Allen, but before he could comment, Syra shot another bolt from her crossbow. Allen went flying and landed flat on his back in the snow. Syra walked over to him and stared down.)
I don't particularly like Squires and I really hate the Blood Rites. So save yourself some pain and don't speak to me again. (Syra) — Sherrilyn Kenyon

But happiness is a difficult thing-it is, as Aristotle posited in The Nicomachean Ethics, an activity, is is about good social behavior, about being a solid citizen. Happiness is about community, intimacy, relationships, rootedness, closeness, family, stability, a sense of place, a feeling of love. And in this country, where people move from state to state and city to city so much, where rootlessness is almost a virtue ("anywhere I hang my hat ... is someone else's home"), where family units regularly implode and leave behind fragments of divorce, where the long loneliness of life finds its antidote not in a hardy, ancient culture (as it would in Europe), not in some blood-deep tribal rites (as it would in the few still-hale Third World nations), but in our vast repository of pop culture, of consumer goods, of cotton candy for all-in this America, happiness is hard. — Elizabeth Wurtzel

In fact a man in love or one consumed with hatred creates symbols for himself, as a superstitious man does, from a passion of conferring uniqueness on things or persons. A man who knows nothing of symbols is one of Dante's sluggards. This is why art mirrors itself in primitive rites or strong passions, seeking for symbols, revolving round the primitive taste for savagery, for what is irrational (blood and sex). — Cesare Pavese

Raith smiled. "There. You already feel yourself weakening. I've taken thousands like you, lovely child. Taken them and broken them. There was nothing they could do. There is nothing you can do. You were made to feel desire. I was made to use it against you. It is the natural cycle. Life and death. Mating and death. Predator and Prey."
Raith leaned closer with each word, and brushed his lips against Murphy's throat as he spoke. "Born mortal. Born weak. And easily taken."
...
"And that's only a taste, child. When you know what it is to be truly taken later this night, you will understand that your life ended the moment I wanted you. — Jim Butcher

Jacquelyn, Luna, Mate. You have many names. Each of them holds a special meaning, but the only thing I want to call you is mine.
Loftis, Quinn (2011-11-18). Blood Rites: Book 2 Grey Wolves Series (The Grey Wolves Series) (p. 233). Kindle Edition. — Quinn Loftis

He dared me to give him a reason to kill someone if the time came that he called me Virginia and it no longer pertained to me.
Loftis, Quinn (2011-11-18). Blood Rites: Book 2 Grey Wolves Series (The Grey Wolves Series) (p. 116). Kindle Edition. — Quinn Loftis

Before they could continue their sparring, Dr. Steele walked up to Vasile and asked to speak with him in private, so naturally the whole table got up and followed them.
Loftis, Quinn (2011-11-18). Blood Rites: Book 2 Grey Wolves Series (The Grey Wolves Series) (p. 112). Kindle Edition. — Quinn Loftis

Yes well, things are different in other countries. But you see, Jen will be turning 18 in just a few weeks and that is why Decebel is here now, because ... "
Before Sally could continue to dig her deep, dark grave Decebel stepped in.
"You will tell me how she is." Sally glared at him and he reluctantly added, "Please."
Loftis, Quinn (2011-11-18). Blood Rites: Book 2 Grey Wolves Series (The Grey Wolves Series) (pp. 41-42). Kindle Edition. — Quinn Loftis

He walked over to Jacque, whose head was bowed and turned so that her neck was bared. It was like she knew instinctively to submit so as to not provoke the dominant wolf and hopefully she would subdue him in her surrender. Fane's wolf must have been the one in control of the wheel because he leaned down over Jacque and growled low. He placed his face against her neck, breathing deep, and his voice was guttural when he spoke. "Mine."
Jacque turned her head slightly and did what no other would ever be able to do when this Alpha was at this point, she looked him in the eyes. "Yes, I am yours." As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Fane pulled his power in and all of a sudden it was like a weight had been lifted and they could breathe again.
Loftis, Quinn (2011-11-18). Blood Rites: Book 2 Grey Wolves Series (The Grey Wolves Series) (p. 95). Kindle Edition. — Quinn Loftis

Well, you still don't know if he changed my name." Jen couldn't help the wicked grin that spread across her face.
"What do you mean if he changed your name?" Decebel growled and he could tell he wasn't going to like the answer.
Jen's response was to start singing 'Meet Virginia' as she climbed back in the vehicle. She heard Decebel's growl and shut and locked the door just as he lunged for her. She looked at him through the glass and winked.
"Jennifer Adams, what have you gone and done to that poor wolf now?" Sally whispered to her mischievous friend.
"Just gave him some extra incentive to come back alive."
Loftis, Quinn (2011-11-18). Blood Rites: Book 2 Grey Wolves Series (The Grey Wolves Series) (pp. 203-204). Kindle Edition. — Quinn Loftis

Logan knew the location of the hospital so he drove while Dillon found Vasile's number in the directory of Alphas. Yes, they had a book with all the Alpha's numbers in it.
Loftis, Quinn (2011-11-18). Blood Rites: Book 2 Grey Wolves Series (The Grey Wolves Series) (p. 56). Kindle Edition. — Quinn Loftis

The three wolves looked tentatively at Decebel.
"Oh, for crying out loud, Dec. Tell them you won't beat them if they play cards with the two humans." Jen glared at him. Decebel had not taken his eyes off of Jen since she had declared she wanted to get her game on. Finally he relented and turned to his pack mates, who all cringed under his scrutiny.
"No touching," he said, as he sat back rigidly, angled so he could watch every move of the game.
Loftis, Quinn (2011-11-18). Blood Rites: Book 2 Grey Wolves Series (The Grey Wolves Series) (p. 225). Kindle Edition. — Quinn Loftis

But even among the great traditional peoples, the situation is not different: from China to Greece, from Rome to the primordial Nordic groups, then up to Aztecs and the Incas, nobility was not characterised by the simple fact of having ancestors, but by the fact that the ancestors of the nobility were divine, unlike those of plebeians and to which it can remain faithful, also through the integrity of blood. The nobles originated from 'demigods', that is to say, from beings who had actually followed a transcendent form of life, forming the origin of tradition in the higher sense, transmitting to their lineage a blood made divine, and, along with it, rites, that is, determinate operations, whose secret every noble family preserved, which allowed their descendants to continue the spiritual conquest from where it had previously reached, and to lead it from the virtual to the actual. — Julius Evola

Jacquelyn, I love you. You are my mate and from this day forth every wolf will know that you are mine. But because I am selfish and a barbarian just as my mother called me, I don't want just the wolves to know you are mine. I want every man to know you are taken. I realize you are not ready to marry me right now. That is okay, I will wait. But I am asking you to tell me that you will be my wife in the human sense of the word one day. Wear this ring as a symbol that your heart is spoken for. Jacquelyn, will you marry me?
Loftis, Quinn (2011-11-18). Blood Rites: Book 2 Grey Wolves Series (The Grey Wolves Series) (p. 235). Kindle Edition. — Quinn Loftis

Do all of you think we have fleas?" Decebel asked as he looked at Jen and Sally.
"I think we just make an assumption because of the hair and what not, that you, ya know, might have a problem with the little buggers when you in your wolf form. — Quinn Loftis

You're so hypno-something, could you be the devil, could you be an angel, your touch is something good, feels like
going floating, leave my body glowing."
"Katy Perry? She's singing Katy Perry in the hospital bathroom. Just when you think you've seen it all," Sally mumbled. She knocked on the door again. Still no answer, so she started banging. Then she was banging and hollering, "JEN! OPEN THE FREAKING DOOR!" Wouldn't you know, she just sang louder. Why am I not surprised, she thought. — Quinn Loftis

How should I worship your God, no matter how powerful, when I know what he will allow to befall us? Who would follow such a cruel god? And how should I lay aside the spirits by whose aid I have roiled the sea and riven rock, who for long years gifted me the power to cure the sick and to inflame my enemies' blood? To begloom the bright day and set dim night ablaze? All this, my spirits have allowed to me. Your God may be stronger than these; I see that. As I see that he will prevail. But not yet. Not for me. While I live, I will not abandon my familiars and the rites that are due to them. — Geraldine Brooks

Here and there [ ... ] vegetation rites took on a less attractive form. A man - or, in later and milder days, an animal - was sacrificed to the earth at sowing time, so that it might be fertilized by his blood. When the harvest came it was interpreted as the resurrection of the dead man; the victim was given, before and after his death, the honors of a god; and from this origin arose, in a thousand forms, the almost universal myth of a god dying for his people, and then returning triumphantly to life. — Will Durant

I can't believe it's actually happening. This is independent adulthood, this is what it feels like. Shouldn't there be some sort of ritual? In certain remote African tribes there'd be some incredible four day rites of passage ceremony involving tattooing and potent hallucinogenic drugs extracted from tree-frogs, and village elders smearing my body with monkey blood, but here,rites of passage is all about three new pairs of pants and stuffing your duvet in a bin-liner. — David Nicholls