Holster Quotes & Sayings

Either way, Cage knew he had take action. He had to get out of the car and into the streets. His attackers would no doubt be approaching his position. Cage unfastened his seatbelt. He reached into the front seat and pulled Fredric's primary gun from his jacket holster. He drew his own and turned off the safeties for both. Then he turned towards the back passenger door and softly exhaled. He felt the world slow down around him. He felt the adrenaline surge through his body. He was death itself. He was at peace. — Leona Keyoko Pink

Before we go on from here, I just want to say," he paused and took a step closer to me and reached his hand out to my heart. "What I should have said back on the plane is I know you're real." His eyes narrowed, "I'll always fight for you, Lexi, in my own way. — S.G. Holster

Hey, he's not using a holster," I said, glancing at Alex's on the dresser. He laughed out loud. "Yeah, I guess he must want something shooting off. It'd be so great if these things were true to life - the next scene would show him at hospital like, clutching himself in agony."'Angel - L.A.Weatherly — L.A. Weatherly

Taking a trip with the Air Force Special Operations Wing folks is not like a flight on a normal airliner. For one thing, passengers and crew are all armed to the teeth. The seating is awful, the noise is incredible, and there is no movie. Your stewardess is likely to be a guy wearing a shoulder holster, and he will not bring you a pillow. — Frank Antenori

Do I make you nervous?" he said teasingly. — S.G. Holster

You're not safe with me."
He cut me off, seeming to growl. "I don't want to be safe. I want to be with you. You can't do this alone. — S.G. Holster

Don't blame me, Pongo,' said Lord Ickenham, 'if Lady Constance takes her lorgnette to you. God bless my soul, though, you can't compare the lorgnettes of to-day with the ones I used to know as a boy. I remember walking one day in Grosvenor Square with my aunt Brenda and her pug dog Jabberwocky, and a policeman came up and said the latter ought to be wearing a muzzle. My aunt made no verbal reply. She merely whipped her lorgnette from its holster and looked at the man, who gave one choking gasp and fell back against the railings, without a mark on him but with an awful look of horror in his staring eyes, as if he had seen some dreadful sight. A doctor was sent for, and they managed to bring him round, but he was never the same again. He had to leave the Force, and eventually drifted into the grocery business. And that is how Sir Thomas Lipton got his start. — P.G. Wodehouse

The sling is to a rifle what the holster is to a pistol. If you have a sling, chances are you will keep the rifle with you. If there is no sling present, you will set the rifle down. When you are at the absolutely farthest point away from the rifle that you can possibly get, you'll need it. — Clint Smith

We sped down the highway in the sleek, black Ferrari. The throaty rumble of its engine sounded strong. The car was perfect for Ren, my hero, my champion. I'd hit such a low and let any integrity I had left molest itself into something dark, ugly, and self destructive. Ren had come to rescue me as only a hero could. — S.G. Holster

You know, it's an odd feeling to not know who you are, I started, trying to keep my voice even and not let urgency or anger skew my words. — S.G. Holster

Austin could do little more than stare at the woman. "It's a prairie dog," he reminded her.
Cautiously, she brushed her fingers over its head. "It's just a baby. Please help her."
Dee was looking at him with so much hope in her big brown eyes that he couldn't do what he knew needed to be done. He slipped his gun into his holster. Thank God, she was married to his brother and not to him. Dallas could break her heart. Austin wouldn't. — Lorraine Heath

A laugh came from the cockpit and Thorne appeared in the doorway, strapping a gun holster around his waist. You're asking the cyborg fugitive and the wild animal to be the welcoming committee? That's adorable. — Marissa Meyer

It's a very private moment when your heart breaks. I was thankful we were alone. I knew I couldn't keep her, but I would always do anything to protect her. — S.G. Holster

She's in the Catskill," Shopie began, but Scathach reached over and pinched her hand. "Ouch!"
I just wanted to distract you," Scathach explained. "Don't even think about Black Annis. There are some names that should never be spoken aloud."
That like saying don't think of elephants, Josh said, "and then all you can think about is elephants."
Then let me give you something else to think about," Scathach said softly. "There are two police officers in the window staring at us. Don't look," she added urgently.
Too late. Josh turned to look and whatever crossed his face
shock, horror, guilt or fear
bought both officers racing into the cafe, one pulling his automatic from its holster, the other speaking urgently into his radio as he drew his baton. — Michael Scott

Close up she saw that Molina's eyes were beautiful and dark thik eye lashed the way Lisette's mother tried to make hers with a mascara brush. The skin beneath Molina's eyes were soft and bruised looking and on her throat were tiny dark moles. It did not seem right that a woman like Molina, who you could tell was a mother-her body was a mother's body for sure, wide hips-could be a cop;it did not seem right that this person was carrying a gun, in a holster attached to leather belt, and that she could use it, if she wanted to. — Joyce Carol Oates

Caleb," Lily whispered. He turned from the horses to glance at her curiously. "What?" "Indians," she managed to say. "Over there, on the rise!" He turned in a leisurely fashion to look toward the hillside, making no move to take his pistol from its holster or dive for the rifle Lily had seen him put under the seat back in Tylerville. "Son of a gun," he remarked, sounding interested but not alarmed. Impatient, Lily started to reach under the seat. "No sudden moves, sodbuster," Caleb warned calmly without even glancing in her direction. "They don't take well to things like that." Lily sat still as a stone, her fingers itching for the rifle even though she didn't have the faintest idea what to do with it. Do something! she wanted to scream as the Indians rode down the hill at a cautious pace. "They'll probably scalp me," she fretted through her teeth. "If they don't, I will," Caleb replied. At — Linda Lael Miller

Beware of false prophets, which come to you in sheep's clothing, but inwardly they are ravening wolves.
- MATTHEW 7:15 — S.G. Holster

You're part of the extended family, Sheriff," Barb told him, tweaking his ear. She was cooling down. "And besides, we may need you on Saturday. If the little bastards get rowdy, you can legally off'm with your Uzi." She pointed to the small revolver Pierce sometimes carried in a discreet (I daresay tasteful) shoulder holster of burnished tan leather. — Michael Craft

He combed his milk-white hair and crooned a tune to himself, clipped on his yellow chamois shoulder holster and stepped out into the soft night and his smooth car.
As he drove, he considered the stars. It would all be over in a flash. — Michael Moorcock

I started picturing Rens smiling face, the warmth of his touch, the slight curl of his lip before he kissed me. Every happy memory came rushing back through the blackness illuminating it in brilliant color. — S.G. Holster

You know that 'no weapons at work' policy?" I asked the twitching and growing hairy monstrosity standing less than ten feet from me. His yellow eyes bored into me with raw animal hatred. There was nothing recognizably human in that look.

"I never did like that rule," I said as I bent down and drew my gun from my ankle holster, put the front sight on the target and rapidly fired all five shots from my snub-nosed .357 Smith and Wesson into Mr. Huffman's body. God bless Texas. — Larry Correia

I lowered the gun but didn't holster it. Not just yet. She could turn out to be psychotic. Or a door-to-door salesperson. — Darynda Jones

That seemed like so very long ago. But I had. As long as the doors weren't completely evil, I'd lost no more than an evening. Smiling, I pulled on my boots and checked the placement of my dagger in its holster. As — Kalayna Price

I loved his enormous aptitude for compassion, adoration and respect. That was his way of showing love. He lacked the capacity for wickedness, and that caressed my belief that he might just be an angel. My angel. — S.G. Holster

I am unarmed. But Butler here, my ... ah ... butler, has a Sig Saucer in his shoulder holster, two shrike-throwing knives in his boots, aderringer two-shot up his sleeve, garrotte wire in his watch, and three stun greanades concealed in variouse pockets. Anything else, Butler? — Eoin Colfer

The other cop is writing things down in his pad. The pad is so small. His pen is really small, too. They seem too small, the pen and pad. Personally, I would want a bigger pad. Then again, with a bigger pad, where would I put it? You'd need a pad-holster, which might look cool but would make it even harder to run, especially if you have the flashlight attachment . . . I guess you need a small pad so it'll fit on your utility belt - Oh, it would be so great if they called it a utility belt. Maybe I could ask. Not now, of course, but later. — Dave Eggers

How can you seem so normal?" she said. "Knowing what we know." Her voice was muffled by her folded arms. "What, that we're caught in a death trap?" Shay glanced up at Marco like he'd bitten her. He decided to holster his usual mode of response. He wanted to talk to this girl. — Dayna Lorentz

Kennedy after all has lots of glamour - Gregory Peck with an atom bomb in his holster. — William F. Buckley Jr.

Let's put our weapons down, okay?" He raises his hands to show he's unarmed. His hands are big enough to encircle my ankles. I swallow.

To hide my awkwardness, I mime taking a gun out of my pocket and toss it aside. He reaches into an imaginary shoulder holsters and takes out a gun, putting it on his planner. I unsheathe an invisible knife from my thigh.

"All of them." I indicate under the desk. He reaches down to his ankle and pretends to take a handgun out of an ankle holster.

"That's better." I sink into my chair and close my eyes.

"You're deeply weird, Shortcake." His voice is not unkind. I force my eyes open and the Staring Game almost kills me. His eyes are the blue of a peacock's chest. Everything is changing. — Sally Thorne

He stowed a bottle of a local rotgut called Five Island Gin - nicknamed Five Ulcer Gin - in radioman Harry Brooks's gas mask holster. When an MP tapped Brooks's hip to check for the mask, the bottle broke and left Brooks with a soggy leg. It was probably for the best. Louie noticed that when he drank the stuff, his chest hair spontaneously fell out. He later discovered that Five Island Gin was often used as paint thinner. After that, he stuck to beer. — Laura Hillenbrand

My instinct was always have your gun in your hand. Especially when you are telling somebody to do something.
But, in fact, the police academy discourages this. They feel your gun should rarely, if ever, be brought out of its holster. Most certainly not when children are involved, which is exactly when I saw myself using my gun most often. A truant teenager loitering outside a movie theater is going to be far more motivated to return to school when he has the barrel of a .45 pressed against his cheek. — Augusten Burroughs

And so, as the mob backs away to give them space ... as the riot police holster their weapons, standing down, and as Risa takes the podium, calming the crowd with a voice as soothing as a sonata, Connor Lassiter holds his family like he'll never let them go. — Neal Shusterman

He tightened his arm around her and reveled in the heat of her body against his. "You keep this up and I'm going to think you were worried about me or something." "I was worried about you, asshole. Don't do that again." He sputtered. "Excuse me, but I didn't do this. You need to leave that blaster in its holster. I mean, damn, woman, I now know where Caillen gets his impulsiveness from."
-Syn & Shahara — Sherrilyn Kenyon

One of the two owners, the man who had been sitting in the front room, was stretched out in there asleep, stockinged-toes pointed at the ceiling, one hand backed defensively against his eyes to ward off the light. He'd taken off his vest and shoes, and that strap that wasn't straight enough to be a suspender-strap was dangling now around one of the knobs at the foot of the bed. It ended in a holster, with a black, cross-grained slab of metal protruding from it. Turner couldn't take his eyes off it, while the long seconds that to him were minutes toiled by.
That meant out, that black slab, more surely than any door. He had to have it. More than that, it meant a continuance of out, for so long as he had it. And he wanted out with all the desperate longing of all trapped things, blindly scratching, clawing their way through a maze to the open. To the open where the equal chance is. — Cornell Woolrich

I walked away from Lexi, leaving her standing behind the gate. Ren was smart to put the barrier between us. I fought everything in me not to run back to the house and steal her away. Instead, I walked around the corner and punched the wall, brilliant. My hand throbbed along with my heartbeat and the only thing I could do was stuff it in a pile of snow. A couple huddled together and pretended I wasn't there as they passed by - smart people. — S.G. Holster

Falconer was wearing his street clothes - jeans, a black turtleneck and an empty shoulder holster under his armpit. Cowboy boots. Little bit of beard stubble. John wondered if the guy would walk from one end of the street to the other without winding up covered in bitches. — David Wong

I was talking on the phone in my trailer, and I looked in the mirror and I saw the badge clipped to my belt, a gun with a holster, and the suit and the tie with the jacket off, and it was just deja vu. I remember that image so clearly from growing up. My dad would come home for lunch, take off his jacket, have the gun and the badge. — Michael Trucco

Miss Pringle was not much larger than the handheld personal assistants of his own age, and usually lived, like the Old West's Colt 45, in a quick-draw holster at his waist. — Arthur C. Clarke

shoulder again and she was laughing. "You can rot in hell, Dillon." Dillon said, "For God's sake, no," and half-slipped to the floor. "Now don't be silly, old friend, make it easy on yourself. Just get up." Which Dillon did, at the same time he was drawing the Colt from the ankle holster, ramming the muzzle into the side of Rupert Dauncey's head, and pulling the trigger. There was an explosion of bone fragments and blood, the hollow point cartridge doing its work, and Dauncey dropped the Walther and fell back against the side of the door. Dillon pushed and sent him out into space. He grabbed at the Airstair door and closed it. He turned and found that Kate Rashid had put the Eagle on automatic and was reaching for her purse. She took out a small pistol, but he lunged, wrestled it from her, and tossed it to the back of the plane. She was hysterical with rage and — Jack Higgins

It may be underfunded and at times mismanaged, but the [Endangered Species] Act is an unprecedented attempt to delegate human-caused extinction to the chapters of history we would rather not revisit: the Slave Trade, the Indian Removal Policy, the subjection of women, child labor, segregation. The Endangered Species Act is a zero-tolerance law: no new extinctions. It keeps eyes on the ground with legal backing-the gun may be in the holster most of the time, but its available if necessary to keep species from disappearing. I discovered in my travels that a law protecting all animals and plants, all of nature, might be as revolutionary-and as American-as the Declaration of Independence. — Joe Roman

Don't," Naomi said, letting him go, "pull your gun on anyone." "They have guns." "Guns plural. You have gun singular, which is why you will keep yours in your holster, or you'll do this by yourself." That's — James S.A. Corey

I saw a man walk into my camera viewfinder from the left. He took a pistol out of his holster and raised it. I had no idea he would shoot. It was common to hold a pistol to the head of prisoners during questioning. So I prepared to make that picture - the threat, the interrogation. But it didn't happen. The man just pulled a pistol out of his holster, raised it to the VC's head and shot him in the temple. I made a picture at the same time. (On his 1968 photograph of the summary street corner execution of prisoner Nguyen Van Lem by South Vietnam's police chief, Lt. Col. Nguyen Ngoc Loan.) — Eddie Adams

You don't understand!' Foaly objected.
Trouble cut him off with a chop of his hand through the air. 'I never understand. That's why we pay you and your dork posse.
Foaly objected again. 'They are not dorks!'
Trouble found space for yet another holster. 'Really? That guy brings a Beanie Baby to work every day. And your nephew, Mayne, speaks fluent Unicorn.'
'They're not all dorks,' said Foaly, correcting himself. — Eoin Colfer

Vadim swallowed, felt his throat too tight to move, then, still staring at the bottle, smelling the desert and Dan, and himself, his hand reached to his side, opened the holster of the pistol. Took out the mag, took the bullet from the chamber, clicked the mag in place again, rolled the bullet between his fingers.
He looked at Dan, sideways, saw the man stare at him, all eyes, dark eyes, and the way the pale desert moon made his face a place of shadows.
He reached for Dan's hand, opened the fingers and placed the bullet into the palm.
"This is the bullet you'll use to kill me if I walk away again." Because if I walk away again, I'll be in so much pain I'm better off dead anyway. — Aleksandr Voinov

Hey, give me my gun, would you?" Zane asked as he shifted, only to wince as the skin pulled.
"Why, you planning on shooting me in the ass when I turn around?" Ty asked sarcastically as he reached for the holster.
"Tempting, but you'd probably get off on it," Zane said, holding out his hand. — Abigail Roux

We need to talk," he insisted, opening the door to his jeep that was parked next to my car. I was still holding out hope this would end and I would see his smile soon.
"What's wrong?" I retaliated before I go in.
"There's something you need to know, something I haven't told you," he said, taking my backpack from me. — S.G. Holster

Larry had brought me blue jeans, a red polo shirt, jogging socks, my white Nikes, an extra cross from my suitcase, the silver knives, the Firestar complete with inner pants holster, and the Browning and its shoulder holster. He'd forgotten a bra, but hey, except for that it was perfect. — Laurell K. Hamilton

When I reached the age of five, I was told I was adopted as a baby, at that time I was gun and holster mad, a bit of a lone ranger, as was the rage in those days. My parents, Tom and Brenda, told me they went to see all these special kids and they picked me out from them. Waiting for my reaction, I looked up at my parents and chimed, 'Did I have my guns on? — Stephen Richards

He turned the cylinder of the Colt and listened to the small, clear clicks it made. The grip was wood, the barrel cool and blue; the holster had kept a faint smell of saddle soap. He slipped the gun back in its holster, put the gun belt around his waist and felt the gun's solid weight against his hip. When he walked out into the lots to catch his horse, he felt grown and complete for the first time in his life. — Larry McMurtry

And who died and made you boss?" But I knew a lost cause when I saw it and was already pulling my hair back with nimble fingers.
Niko slapped a shoulder holster against my chest. "No one. Like all truly great dictators, I seized that power myself. Now finish up. We leave in five minutes. — Rob Thurman

When I thought I felt better, grief shot its silver tip arrow at my heart to remind me that it was still there."
Excerpt From: Holster, S.G. "Thirty Seconds to Die." iBooks.
This material may be protected by copyright.
Check out this book on the iBooks Store — S.G. Holster

Shit! Halvorsen thought furiously, and for a moment one hand clawed under his sport-coat where there was a .38 in a clamshell holster. Then sanity reasserted itself. This was no drug bust or armed robbery; this was a crippled black lady in a wheelchair. She was rolling it like it was some punk's drag-racer, but a crippled black lady was all she was just the same. What was he going to do, shoot her? That would be great, wouldn't it? And where was she going to go? There was nothing at the end of the aisle but two dressing rooms. — Stephen King

Extreme zombie fighting kit. Tactical boots and tacticals. Firefighting bunker gear. Nomex head cover tucked under the collar of the bunker gear. Full face respirator. Helmet with integrated visor. Body armor with integral MOLLE. Knee, elbow and shin guards. Nitrile gloves. Tactical gloves. Rubber gloves. Assault pack with hydration unit. Saiga shotgun on friction strap rig. A .45 USP in tactical fast-draw holster. Two .45 USP in chest holsters. Fourteen Saiga ten-round 12-gauge magazines plus one in the weapon. Nine pistol magazines in holster plus three in weapons. Kukri in waist sheath. Machete in over-shoulder sheath, right. Halligan tool in over-shoulder sheath, left. Tactical knife in chest sheath. Tactical knife in waist sheath. Bowie knife in thigh sheath. Calf tactical knife times two. A few clasp knives dangling in various places. There was the head of a teddy bear peeking out of her assault pack. — John Ringo

Do you have protection?"
"Sure do." Durbin flipped up his jacket to reveal the M9 in his shoulder holster. "You people can keep your superstitious mumbo-jumbo. I have all the protection I need. — Laura Oliva

Casey tucked the barrel at the small of his back and arranged his shirt.
Vince shook his head. "You gotta get a holster. That is so fucking ghetto."
"No way - I like how it feels back there." Casey grabbed his jacket and followed Vince outside. "Wait. That came out wrong. — Cara McKenna

He would always be something sharp and deadly on the inside, something that could be used to destroy, but every blade needs a sheath and every gun needs a holster to protect it. I had no problem offering myself up as the thing that kept this particular weapon secure. — Jay Crownover

My last semester at Vassar, I'd taken to wearing nunchakus in a strap-on holster and carrying around a samurai sword - that should tell you all you need to know. — Anthony Bourdain

The trapper nodded and returned his pistol to its holster. 'He can count to one hundred if it suits you,' he said, opening and closing his hand to stretch it.

Charlie made a sour face. 'What a stupid thing to say. Think of something else besides that. A man wants his last words to be respectable.'

'I will be speaking all though this day and into the night. I will tell my grandchildren of the time I killed the famous Sisters brothers.'

'That at least makes some sense. Also it will serve as a humorous footnote. — Patrick DeWitt