Sam Name Quotes & Sayings

I guessed his name was Face of Horror. I wondered how long it had taken his mom to think of that. Bob? No. Sam? No. How about Face of Horror? — Rick Riordan

Our guy has a property office, John. And I don't mean the Property Office here in One PP. I mean the huge fucking storage facility. A guy in there, with access to thousands of fucking handguns. Even the ones that other people would be keeping an eye on, like Son of Sam's piece, for fuck's sake - a guy in there who'll just boost them and give them to our guy to kill people with. And if the guns are too famous, he'll cut his own slugs out of the bodies and walk away. This guy, our guy, he's actually starting to scare me a bit right now."
"A couple of hundred kills to his name didn't do that?"
"Meh. I dream about killing two hundred people every fucking night."
"You know," said Tallow, "whenever I'm in danger of forgetting you're CSU, you always find a way to remind me. — Warren Ellis

Master Sam - After that, I'm going to fuck you." She could hear the control in his voice. "Hurt you and fuck you so hard that everyone in the club hears you scream my name. — Cherise Sinclair

I'm Sam Donovan."
"I know who you are. Mrs. Kulavich told me. I'm Jaine Bright."
"I know. She told me. She even told me how you spell your name."
Now, how on earth had Mrs. Kulavich known that? — Linda Howard

When I first played New York, it was with James Brown at the Apollo, and I was playing in a band under the name The Valentinos. I remember Sam Cooke saying, 'I want you to go in there with James Brown. I couldn't be as hard on you as James Brown would be.' But we came out marching like soldiers. — Bobby Womack

Sam- I didn't know you had a last name I thought you were like Iman or Madonna or Beyonce. You just needed the one name.
Dekka- Yeah sure, me and Beyonce — Michael Grant

I feel his intense gaze skimming my face and force myself to look him in the eye. This time, when he leans closer, I know what he wants. He traces my jaw with his fingertips, then moves lower to my chin. My eyelids flutter closed when he tips my face up.
Oh my God. Sam Donavon is going to kiss me.
The forest holds its breath.
I hold my breath.
Our lips brush, light as eyelashes. His fingers trail back into my hair, tilting my head. Hot cinnamon dances across my mouth.
I'm drowning.
And then my name, roared at the top of familiar lungs, cracks the silent night. — Kate Avelynn

It felt like an eternity before he gingerly lifted himself from the table and staggered backwards. Glass shards protruded from chest to groin. The guy looked like a bloody porcupine. A cute, tall bloody porcupine. I'm tall too. Five foot ten. But he had at least four inches on me, even with my thick-heeled boots.
"What's your name?" he slurred.
While visions of reckless homicide charges danced in my head, I contemplated using an alias. Finally, I said my real name, "Sam."
"Nice to meet you, Sammers. I'm Jake," he said. — Betsy Cook Speer

At the time, my 6-year-old kept thinking my character's name was "Sam Alone," which is kind of brilliant. The funny came out of Sam's sad core: the alcoholic, the sex addict, the person who thinks he's God's gift. — Ted Danson

Zombie!" Sammy calls. "I knew it was you."
Zombie?
"Where are you taking him?" Ben says to me in a deep voice. I don't remember it being that deep. Is my memory bad or is he lowering it on purpose, to sound older?
"Zombie, that's Cassie," Sam chides him. "You know - Cassie."
"Cassie?" Like he's never heard the name before.
"Zombie?" I say, because I really haven't heard that name before.
I pull off the cap, thinking it might help him recognize me, then immediately regret it. I know what my hair must look like.
"We go to the same high school," I say, drawing my fingers hastily through my chopped-off locks. "I sit in front of you in Honors Chemistry."
Ben shakes his head like he's clearing out the cobwebs.
Sammy goes, "I told you she was coming."
"Quiet, Sam," I scold him.
"Sam?" Ben asks.
"My name is Nugget now, Cassie," Sam informs me.
"Well, sure it is." I turn to Ben. "You know my brother. — Rick Yancey

I closed my eyes. The monster had named itself now - stolen its name from the Son of Sam, who'd called himself Mr. Monster in a letter to the paper. He'd begged the police to shoot him on sight, so he wouldn't kill again. He couldn't stop himself.
But I could. I am not a serial killer.
I put down the knife. — Dan Wells

The people and the news media used to call me 'The Son of Sam,' but God has given me a new name, 'The Son of Hope,' because now my life is about hope. — David Berkowitz

A Power sidled into the diner.
Say what you will about them, but they know how to make an entrance. An inky shadow wrapped in a lashing rain of ash and sleet, it rode on 144,000 constantly flickering legs of forked lightning. This particular jasper's proper name was the basso profundo thrum of dark matter winging through the void, the fizz of neutrinos boiling off a moribund blue supergiant, and the bitter-tangerine taste of a quadrillion-dimension symmetry group. But I called it Sam for short. — Ian Tregillis

When I was twenty, in the summer between my sophomore and junior years in college, I fell head over heels for a barista at my local coffee shop. His name was Sam, and he is the most beautiful boy I have ever seen - in any context - and I can promise you that if you saw him, he'd be the most beautiful boy you've ever seen, too. His good looks were beyond the court of public opinion. He looked like the result of a magical gay union between Patrick Dempsey and Freddie Prinze Jr. Think about that for a few minutes. Close the book and set it aside, then close your eyes, and just think about that. I will wait here. I'm actually going to take a few minutes to think about him, too. All right. Calm down. — Katie Heaney

Claire started to unbutton her blouse and looked over her shoulder at Sam, who tried to discreetly sneak a peek at her. She reached down to the bed and picked up the nightshirt the hotel staff provided, per Lacy's request, an extra-large white cotton T-shirt sporting the hotel's name and logo in classy gray lettering.
They also provided a pair of gray cotton boxers for Sam. He picked them up. "Not bad. They really thought of everything, huh?"
"Yes, it was very thoughtful of Lacy. We won't have to sleep in our clothes," Claire agreed on her way to the bathroom to change.
"Or in the buff, which wouldn't be such a bad thing," Sam said in a low voice.
"I heard that, Sam," Claire yelled from the bathroom.
"Wouldn't be such a bad thing." Sam called back.
"That remains to be seen." She giggled.
"Yeah, well you can't blame a guy for trying. — Carolyn Gibbs

Sam Fuller and Shock Corridor can only be conjured as a mantra. Shock Corridor is a classic work of art - it's unique. It comes from the unique experience of being Sam Fuller and yes, there's always that element of Shock Corridor hovering around the picture, but never specifically. In fact, I didn't even screen it because it's in us. It's in me anyway. It's in me. It was a way of conjuring up support just by saying the name, Shock Corridor, as I was going to shoot. Poor Sam [Fuller] ... — Martin Scorsese

I would introduce myself if it were not useless. The name I had last night will not be the same as the name I have tonight. For the moment, then, let me say that I am thinking of Sam Slovoda. — Norman Mailer

One girl raved about a nice voicemail a guy had recently left her. I kindly requested she play it and heard this gem: 'Hey, Lydia. It's Sam. Just calling to say what's up. Gimme a ring when you get a chance.'

THAT WAS IT.

I pleaded to know what was so great about this. She sweetly recalled that 'he remembered my name, he said hi, and he told me to call him back.'

Never mind the fact that what she described was the content of LITERALLY EVERY VOICE MAIL IN HISTORY. Name, hello, please call back. Not really a boatload of charm on display. To fail this test, a guy would have to leave a message that said: 'No greeting. This is man. I don't remember you. End communication. — Aziz Ansari

And unless I'm remembering it wrong, mermaids don't sing and sirens don't swim."
"Ariel sang in 'The Little Mermaid'," Corey said.
Sam came over to join us. "Do I even want to know why you remember her name? — Kelley Armstrong

There's lots of people will help you with alcohol business, but there's no one out there arranging little meetings where you can stand up and say, 'My name is Sam Vimes and I'm a really suspicious bastard. — Terry Pratchett

There was a lot more to that song,' said Sam, 'all about Mordor. I didn't learn that part, it gave me the shivers. I never thought I should be going that was myself!'
'Going to Mordor! Cried Pippin. 'I hope it won't come to that!'
'Do not speak that name so loudly!' said Strider — J.R.R. Tolkien

The unicorn stared at him. Then, "Gary." "Your name is Gary," Sam said. "Yes." "Ah. That's ... not very unicorn-like." Gary scowled. "And what is unicorn-like?" Sam shrugged. "I don't know. Like Princess Moon Cloud or Ethereal Tear or Star Shine. — T.J. Klune

Name a sexual disease, she got it like Sam Goody. — Dr. Dre

You can easily find out her real name and address with your hacker skills, and I'll just pop out to Cleveland or wherever and kill her. That way she won't beat you anymore at your game. I'll let you choose whether I Own her or not, and how slowly and painfully you want her to die. I'll bring home a trophy for you to display so everyone will see how much I care for you." I looked around his place. "A garland with her teeth maybe, or her scalp if she has nice hair."
Wyatt made a kind of gurgling sound. "Sam. You're joking aren't you? In that weird way you do sometimes? You can't just kill her. I want to beat her at the game, not physically harm her person. I'll work on my technique and I'll win eventually."
Why would he want to do that? This idea was growing on me. What boyfriend wouldn't want a garland of teeth? — Debra Dunbar

It was one of the few places where someone remembered his name. Yeah, okay, so he felt like Sam Malone on Cheers, but there was no Norm or Cliff sitting at the bar here. More like Spike and Switchblade.' (Wulf) — Sherrilyn Kenyon

He removed her hand from his cheek to kiss the tips of her fingers. "I get scared, too," he murmured onto her skin. "You want to hear something ridiculous? Whenever I'm scared out of my wits, I tell myself: My name is Sam Cortland ... and I will not be afraid. I've been doing it for years."
It was her turn to raise her brows. "And that actually works?"
He laughed onto her fingers. "Sometimes it does, sometimes it doesn't. But it usually makes me feel better to some degree. Or it just makes me laugh at myself a bit. — Sarah J. Maas

Hey, you called me Sam. My actual name. Not Master or dumbass - "
"I have never in my life called anyone dumbass."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. Now, focus. — Lish McBride

First I'm going to play with these gorgeous tits here, suck on these pretty little nipples. Then I'm going to fuck you with my fingers and my tongue until you come in my mouth. Only then will I slide my cock inside you. It's not going to be slow and gentle, Sam. I'm going to fuck you hard and fast until you come so hard you scream. And do you know what you'll scream? My name. — Suzanne Wright

Sam was starting to feel anxious. Nutella and noodles were fine. Great in fact. Miraculous. But he'd been hoping for more food more water more medicine something. It was absurdly like Christmas morning when he was little: hoping for something he couldn't even put a name to. A game changer. Something ... amazing. — Michael Grant

Hi, my name is Ryan Foxheart. Oh no! There's danger afoot! Let me pull out my sword and pose." I mimed pulling a sword from my side and cocked an eyebrow. "Notice how dashing I am. And immaculate. And today, my hair is parted on the right. Wink. — T.J. Klune

Why? Because your grandfather gets hunches and you have some sort of psychic abilities, do you automatically believe everything? Someone walks in your door saying she can torch the place using her mind, do you accept it as fact? Demons, vampires, werewolves? Sounds like a good idea for a TV show. Your partner is named Sam - are you sure your name isn't Dean? — Rysa Walker

Oh, good grief," said Vimes. "Look, it's quite simple, man. I was expected to go "At last, alcohol!", and chugalug the lot without thinking. Then some respectable pillars of the community" - he removed the cigar from his mouth and spat - "were going to find me, in your presence, too - which was a nice touch - with the evidence of my crime neatly hidden but not so well hidden that they couldn't find it." He shook his head sadly. "The trouble is, you know, that once the taste's got you it never lets go."
"But you've been very good, sir," said Carrot. "I've not seen you touch a drop for -"
"Oh, that," said Vimes. "I was talking about policing, not alcohol. There's lots of people will help you with the alcohol business, but there's no one out there arranging little meetings where you can stand up and say, "My name is Sam and I'm a really suspicious bastard. — Terry Pratchett

I guess the worst day I have had was when I had to stand up in rehab in front of my wife and daughter and say 'Hi, my name is Sam and I am an addict.' — Samuel L. Jackson

I've got a chainsaw with my name on it in my workshop," Milo told us happily. "If I'm ever killed by undead, I want you guys to chop me up with it. It's a good chainsaw."
"I reckon it is, Milo. I would be honored to chop your head off," Sam said. — Larry Correia

I remembered the pain as clearly as if I were shifting - the pain of loss. I felt the agony of the single moment that I lost myself. Lost what made me Sam. The part of me that could remember Grace's name. — Maggie Stiefvater

This must have been the side that Sam slept on when he snuck in here, because I recognized his scent. How ballsy he had been to come here night after night, just to be with Grace. I imagined him lying right here, Grace next to him. I had seen them kiss before - the way that Sam's hands pressed on Grace's back when he thought no one would see and the way that the hardness of Grace's face disappeared entirely when he did. It was easy to picture them lying together here, kissing, tangled. Sharing breath, lips pressed urgently against necks and shoulders and fingertips. I felt hungry suddenly, for something that I didn't have and couldn't name. It made me think of Cole's hand on my collarbone and how his breath had been so hot in my mouth, and suddenly I was sure that I was going to call him or find him tomorrow if such a thing was possible. — Maggie Stiefvater

Oh no," Lartin moaned. "You're Sam of Wilds."
"Such a sexy name," Gary sighed. "Have I ever told you that? — T.J. Klune

When I produced Spartacus, the writer was Dalton Trumbo, who spent a year in jail because he would not answer McCarthy's questions about other people. He submitted the picture under the false name of Sam Jackson. — Kirk Douglas

Sunny laughed. "It's okay. You're right, Emma. My name is unusual, but I like to think of it as ... special also."
Special?
Sam cocked his head as he studied Sunny. Almost all of her hair had escaped out of her ponytail now. She wore a baggy pink sweatshirt and had on the kind of drawstring plaid pants that would've set Bozo the Clown's heart pitter-pattering with envy. Her yellow tennis shoes were covered with dog hair.
Yeah, special was one word for her. — Jennifer Shirk

I don't know; I still like the name Six. Maren
Elizabeth was when I was a different person, and right now Six just feels right. It can be short for something if someone asks."
Sam looks over. "For what? Sixty? — Pittacus Lore

What's your name, son?' Sam said. The man looked to be about Sam's age, but Sam always thought calling people 'son' immediately gave the air of imperial authority and opened the door for spanking if need be. — Tod Goldberg

Tristan held his hand out toward Sam with his beautiful smile. "Nice to meet ya, Sam." "You too, Tristan," Sam said warily. Tristan patted him on the back, his wolfish grin in full force. "Oh, no need to be so formal with my name. By all means, call me asshole. — Brittainy C. Cherry

The single craziest thing about being a priest, he'd found, was that celibacy was simultaneously the most private and most public aspect of his life. One of his linguistics professors, a man named Samuel Goldstein, had helped him understand the consequences of that simple fact. Sam was Korean by birth, so if you knew his name, you knew he was adopted. "What got me when I was a kid was that people knew something fundamental about me and my family just by looking at us. I felt like I had a big neon sign over my head flashing ADOPTEE," Sam told him. "It's not that I was ashamed of being adopted. I just wished that I had the option of revealing it myself. — Mary Doria Russell

No one calls me Sammy. My mother occasionally throws a "Samuel", but I am, and have always been, just Sam. Sammy is a name for five-year-olds and game show hosts and Shinny Happy People.
I am, definitely, not a Sammy — Melissa Keil

According to Wal-Mart expert Bob Ortega, Sam Walton got the idea for the cheer on a 1975 trip to Japan, "where he was deeply impressed by factory workers doing group calisthenics and company cheers." Ortega describes Walton conducting a cheer: "'Gimme a W!' he'd shout. 'W!' the workers would shout back, and on through the Wal-Mart name. At the hyphen, Walton would shout 'Gimme a squiggly!' and squat and twist his hips at the same time; the workers would squiggle right back — Barbara Ehrenreich

That's my name. Not Cassie for Cassandra. Or Cassie for Cassidy. And it's not Cassie for Cassiopeia. Not anymore. I am more than her now.
I am all of them, Evan and Ben and Marika and Megan and Sam. I am Dumbo and Pounkcake and Teacup. I am all the ones you emptied, the ones you corrupted, the ones you discarded, the thousands you thought you had killed, but who live on in me. — Rick Yancey

Delilah." When he said her name like that, all low and Sam Elliott throaty, she had to suppress a shiver. — Julie Ann Walker

You saw the way everyone looked at him? And when I asked for nominations, his was the first name mentioned. I don't like it, his being Nurse Temple's son. That's a bad coincidence. Get a read on him. If he has the power, we may not be able to wait to deal with him. — Michael Grant

Grace. I held on to that name. If I kept that in my head, I would be OK.
Grace.
I was shaking, shaking; my skin peeling away.
Grace.
My bones squeezed, pinched, pressed against my muscles.
Grace.
Her eyes held me even after I stopped feeling her fingers gripping my arms.
Sam," she said. "Don't go. — Maggie Stiefvater

There's a smoking hot, naked woman wiggling into red lace underwear in front of me. I'm lucky I can remember my name."

~ Sam Fitzpatrick — Mackenzie Crowne

My name is Sam Cortland... and I will not be afraid. — Sarah J. Maas

It was Sam's first view of a battle of Men against Men and he did not like it much. He was glad he could not see the dead face. He wondered what the man's name was and where he came from; and if he was really evil of heart, or what lies and threats had led him on the long march from his home; and if he would no rather have stayed there in peace - — J.R.R. Tolkien

He said." Jojen frowned. "This ... Coldhands?"
"That wasn't his true name," said Gilly, rocking. "We only called him that, Sam and me. His hands were cold as ice, but he saved us from the dead men, him and his ravens, and he brought us here on his elk."
"His elk?" said Bran, wonderstruck.
"His elk?" said Meera, startled.
"His ravens?" said Jojen.
"Hodor?" said Hodor.
"Was he green?" Bran wanted to know. "Did he have antlers?"
The fat man was confused. "The elk?"
"Coldhands," said Bran impatiently. "The green men ride on elks, Old Nan used to say. Sometimes they have antlers too. — George R R Martin

Good. So, I guess I should have a pet name for you."
"You could call me laird," Ian suggested, even though he wasn't feeling like one right now.
Sam swirled fingers in his chest hair, then tugged lightly on it. "Can I call you laird bear?"
"Hell no."
Ian felt Sam smile against his neck.
"No," he repeated.
"Okay," Sam said agreeably, still smiling.
"Fuck," Ian muttered.
Sam giggled. It was cute.
"Let's go to bed," he said, nudging Sam with his arm. "This couch is too small."
"Okay, laird. Bear."
"Ha. Ha. — Anne Tenino