Fantasy Thriller Quotes & Sayings

But then it was over too quickly and they pulled away. She knew they couldn't stand there and kiss like a couple on the run in a thriller. — Joss Ware

Simon to die. Jace to live. Jonathon to retune. And you Valentine's daughter, to be the catalist of it all. — Cassandra Clare

This is the right time
They are the right people
Will it be enough for mankind?

From "The Rishis: Book of Secrets. — Robert Delgado

Don't worry about paying me. Stay alive, child. You must save yourself. And, whatever you do, don't forget who you are — Catrina Burgess

I've spent a large portion of the last 40 years hunting Dragons because of you. Be flattered, disturbed ... Whatever floats your boat.
Tiberius of Triad
C.O.A series — Kim Cormack

The strands of her golden hair danced through her liquid nightmare to an unheard song. She was gone.
"Enlightenment"
C.O.A series — Kim Cormack

Young people looking for adventure fiction now generally turn to fantasy, but for those of a certain age, the spy thriller has long been the escape reading of choice. — Michael Dirda

Never tease anything that wants to eat you. Reign of Blood — Alexia Purdy

What is the difference between a dream and its memory? — Sukanya Venkatraghavan

Who are you?" I asked as he turned and headed deeper into the cavern.
"I am Fenrir the Wolf."
"I'm sorry, did you say you're a wolf? — Amanda Carlson

The Ancestral Trail was split into two-halves of 26 issues each. The first half takes place in the Ancestral World and describes Richard's struggle to restore good to the world. After the initial international run, which sold over 30 million copies worldwide, Marshall Cavendish omitted the second part of the trilogy and used the third part (future) for the second series that followed. This part of the series, written up by Ian Probert and published in 1994, takes place in the Cyber Dimension. It deals with Richard's attempts to return home. Each issue centered on an adventure against a particular adversary, and each issue ended on a cliffhanger.
The Ancestral Trail was illustrated by Julek and Adam Heller. Computer-generated graphics were provided by Mehau Kulyk for issues #27 through #52. — Frank Graves

The mirror sighed and spoke in a tone tinged with melancholy. Its language was old and not of any of the worlds known or unknown.

What you dream, what you darkly desire,

Find it by trial or by fire.

Seek it high and seek it low,

Search the skies or the realms below.

Look everywhere but beware,

The deepest magic, the strongest spell

Will not change what the stars foretell. — Sukanya Venkatraghavan

How would I feel about hearing that the plague killed another nearby village a month later? Didn't I tell you stupidity is the eighth sin?
Excerpt From: Cameron Jace. . — Cameron Jace

He looked up at the stars as the storm closed in and saw them extinguished, one-by-one, until just two remained. They glimmered and shone through gaps in the clouds like two great eyes in the darkness, burning on a demon's face that chased him across the sea. — Brooke Burgess

Vincent knew he was dying. A horrendous fever overwhelmed him with intolerable pain throughout many sleepless hours. It came as a result of a malaria epidemic that erupted in his hometown during early nineteenth century Europe. The disease spread so fast, physicians had to ration their stocks of quinine only to use it on patients who weren't declared "hopeless". Vincent was one of the unlucky ones. Speculating his time on Earth may be short, he requested spiritual guidance, even if he wasn't a faithful man, nor did he believe in forgiveness. He appealed to the Church as a "just in case" like many other petrified atheists. — Don Luis Zavala

People spend their entire lives fearing the very thing you apparently crave. They do anything they can to delay the process or fool themselves into believing it's farther away than it actually is. With every passing year, with every milestone, they only feel more anxiety, more inclination to defeat this inevitability of nature, only to realize that they've fostered an entire life of crippling fear, wasted on the fixation of its end. And there you sit, begging for it. — Luna DeMasi

You and that amazing body of yours will be the cause of some too-appreciative witch's death. Maybe two witches." Or a dozen, her fire spirit hissed. — N.D. Jones

So exquisitely perfect was the darkness of the heavens above that one would have difficulty believing it was a prison to the passengers and crew of The Black Witch. — Micheal Rivers

Sometimes death is just the beginning — Nora Jones

You killed me." My voice was unsteady.

He held me close again. "I brought you back."

"Please tell me we only have to do that once."

He whispered against my ear, "I swear I won't kill you again. Cross my heart and hope to die." It was a bad joke — Catrina Burgess

If it's to be, it's up to me.
to which I add;
If not now ... then when? — Andrew Toynbee

I felt absolutely nothing, and that frightened me even more than the darkness of oblivion — Catrina Burgess

Trust her heart, Assefa, and believe in yourself. No matter the challenge, no matter the foe, be brave, be wise, be the undefeated Mngwa of lore. — N.D. Jones

It's never too late. — John D. Garrison

Without warning, he jumped into the air. Startled, I held him tighter, my cheek against his. Speaking into my ear, he said, Yer not too tall, nor too thin, nor do ye weigh too much. Yer perfect the way ye are, lass. A man that does not possess the strength, patience and intelligence to provide fer and protect a woman is no man at all. — Michaela McGregor

This is the beginning of a new time," Torius said, "a great moment for us. One of us has learnt the Tongue and freed a princess. I have saved him and killed the guards. No longer will we be slaves. No longer will the guards tell us what to do. No longer will we listen. We will fight till we get what we want!"
A roar exploded from the children around him.
"This is a revolution," Torius went on. "You all remember the pain that you have felt when the guards have touched you. You all know the shame we carry within us at being treated like this. No more! We will stand! — Y.K. Willemse

There were fat cats and skinny cats. The long-tailed and the bobbed. The daring young leapers, and the old windowsill sleepers. Balls of waddling fluff, smooth-coated prowlers, and hairless ones that looked fragile and wise. The tiger-striped, the ring-tailed, and the ones with matching coloured socks and mittens. There were tabbies and calicos. Manx and Persians. Siamese and Bombay. Ragdolls and Birmans. Maine Coons and Russian Blues. There were Snowshoes and Somalis, Tonkinese and Turkish, and many, many more. Brown and beige and orange and grey and black and white and silver cats, each with gleaming eyes of emerald, or sapphire, or amber. A rainbow of precious stones. — Brooke Burgess

You keep squintin' in Savage's dark corners, you gonna wish yourself blind. — Alexandra Sirowy

It happened as it always did, swallowing her swiftly and completely. Intense. Painful. Quick, vivid colors spun beneath her eyelids. Sounds were sharp inside her skull. Fire shot up through her bones. She may have been screaming and she wouldn't have known. There was smoke in her nose, thick and black, and she couldn't breathe. It stung her eyes and licked at her skin. Wood and metal crashed down as skin blistered and popped and she knew this wasn't her, knew it was someone else, someone with a bigger body, bigger boots and darker jeans, and big ol' hands with scars on the fingers. Men's hands. Nails blunt and dirty with oil and grease and burning and- The cars were on fire. Paper burned and curled and rags ignited, the cement floor pockmarked by flash fires. Meat withered in her nose and she realized it was her. Him. Dancing embers blackened and burned bone. He screamed and she hoped she was not. He writhed and she really hoped she was not. He was dying, dead, and- — Angele Gougeon

Pulling back, like a savage carnivore at its prey, it tore a large chunk of meat rendering his left arm useless...regardless he did not require it for long. — Stacy Buck

Jasmine hurried along the Grand Canal, dodging a group of diehard revelers, glancing back over her shoulder for the hundredth time. She couldn't see Gabe Cannon anywhere.
Her teenage fantasy man was hunting her brother. She sure hadn't seen that coming. Freaking surreal.
He looked just as good as when she'd first met him at that airport and had fallen instantly in love over pizza and chips. One of those unavoidable pitfalls of life, really. He'd been more handsome than any of her pop idols, and her teenage emotions had been just begging for an outlet.
She cringed in embarrassment when she thought of all the melodramatic drivel she'd written about him in her high school diary. — Dana Marton

Fear is a prison in which we place ourselves. You need only to press against the bars to realize that the door is always unlocked, and you are always free to leave. — Luna DeMasi

The horror of what I saw chilled me to the bone. Blood glistened on my friend's lips. He knelt down and whispered something I could not hear. Star then stopped attacking, and to lay down to sleep. What the hell had he done to my dog? Just how much of a chance did I have to live through the next few moments of my life? I turned and ran as fast as I could, heart thudding in my chest. I ran down the pier, running for my life. Something came in front of me and grabbed me. It was Drew. He held my arms still in front of him. He stared intently into my eyes. — Stella Coulson

I love outsider stories. And I also like a lot of genre fiction, too. So I wanted to write a literary book that flirted with thriller and fantasy and even science fiction. I wanted the coming-of-age story and the love story to be about "outsiderdom" - one of the themes I am most interested in. — Porochista Khakpour

My whole life changed after I drowned and died in the flood. — Kerry Alan Denney

I wrapped my arms around my body, pushing away my doubts and indecision for just a moment, and looked out toward the cemetery. "Whatever it takes," I vowed. And as I said the words, I felt a chill run across my neck and a ghostly touch slide down my cheek — Catrina Burgess

I'm not afraid of dying. I'm afraid I'll never get a chance to live! — A.A. Bell

My story reflexes come less from fantasy or horror than from the darker sort of psychological thriller - not as plot-driven as most, rather more mood-driven. My interest in the supernatural is a complication - though I am less interested in ghosts than in people who see ghosts. — Graham Joyce

Perhaps great fiction is in reality, deep hidden truths. — S.G. Savage

She holds you like a whore in the night, but she'll take your soul and not think twice. — Micheal Rivers

A full harvest moon lit the sky. In its glow, there appeared an old woman dressed in black lace. A shimmering veil covered her head. With her back to the old oak tree, she keened wildly. Her cry was carried by the autumn winds and lost on the wings of the nightingales. — AnneMarie Dapp

Despite what you think you know, most people don't want to fight, especially when evenly matched. ... That's why you see those pissed young men doing the dance of "don't hold me back" while desperately hoping someone likes them enough to hold them back. — Ben Aaronovitch

Yes, 1960's North American sitcoms have led me to study the United States 1920's and 1930's crime bosses - QET Jenkins — Kim Welsman

Ah yes, now you're beginning to feel it. It's so satisfying to see my best efforts coming to fruition. Undoubtedly one of the most gratifying rewards of my profession. It would warm my heart - if I had one. — Jaye Frances

The lights flickered, the pain went away, and her mother was holding her, singing 'Sleep sweet sleep'. (The Children of Ankh series) Kim Cormack — Kim Cormack

First, I'm a writer; I look at things from a different point of view. The untrained eye is the eye that sees what's been missed.
Devon, from The Dragon's Breath by Jenna Lindsey — Jenna Lindsey

I stumble across the sea of tarmac, finding pavement, concealment and a brick wall. Palms brace against the scrubby surface. My stomach churns and then bubbles over, burning my throat as acrid yellow acid spills from my lips in frothy discomposure. It splatters the pavement like a spray of blood. — Rebecca Clare Smith

IT IS SAID that time is unrelated to everything else. It goes on and on, unnoticing of our actions, our falls, our triumphs. Who's to care then, if time does not remember us? It flies by, fleeting, inattentive and disinterested in any occupants of this earth. What are we, then, if time thinks so little of everyone it passes? Time is truly apathetic to the many to whom a little empathy would mean so much.
~April~
Disarming Reign of Blood — Alexia Purdy