Splattered Quotes & Sayings

The door swung open and Kate walked in. Her jeans and T-shirt were splattered with blood and she was carrying a severed vampire head. The T-shirt has a smiley face on it. — Ilona Andrews

Don't talk to me about Matisse
the European style of 1900, the tradition of the studio
where the nude style woman reclines forever
on a sheet of blood.

Talk to me instead about the culture generally
how the murderers were sustained
by the beauty robbed of savages: to our remote
villages the painters came, and our white-washed
mud-huts were splattered with gunfire. — Michael Ondaatje

So much depends upon a blue car splattered with mud speeding down the road. — Sharon Creech

We can fight fire with water provided we can get it there soon enough. But often we act when it's too late. The result is splattered in the pages of our history: bloodbaths, uprisings, revolutions, you name. And on it goes. We learn so slowly. After so many centuries, we're still a people who eat fire and drink water.' 'Why bother,then?' 'Because we have to believe that one day we'll learn. — Arlene J. Chai

Before she closed the door, she hit me with this one: "I feel like it's November first," she said, "and I'm that discarded jack-o'-lantern whose heart and guts are splattered all over the boulevard of broken promises."
"And a good night to you, too," I said. — Rick Detorie

Red SUV skidded to a stop in front of me. A small line of muddy snow splattered past — Robert J. Crane

I wanted to keep these trunks as a souvenir." "Now look at them." "They were splattered with blood. — Muhammad Ali

Everyone loves a murder, eh? Villains in the night, tragic heroines splattered in gore. Better than an opera. Bloody vultures. — Viola Carr

Outside the snow was falling. In the lamplight icy leaf-patterns could be seen glittering on the blue-black windows, and hoar-frost sparkled like melted sugar in the hollows of the bottle-glass panes, all splattered with gold.
The little house, lying snug and sleepy in the darkness, was wrapped in a deep silence. — Joris-Karl Huysmans

Get off, you look ugly (to a blood splattered player during a game) — Peter Marshall

Just looking for a piece of adventure, my ass. You already have an adventure. Who is he?"
An enigma.
"Just a guy I met the other night," I answered.
"And why the hell would you not want to see him? Did he have herpes or something? Because that's a damn shame. Like paint splattered all over a Van Gogh. Or a naked Ryan Gosling. — Cora Carmack

I dropped the blood-coated chair leg and collapsed to my knees. I couldn't swallow. I couldn't breathe. I was splattered with blood. I'd never beaten someone to death before. It had felt good. — Laurell K. Hamilton

A book was mere paper splattered with ink until a reader's mind gave it life. — Elizabeth Langston

We all have our little solipsistic delusions, ghastly intuitions of utter singularity: that we are the only one in the house who ever fills the ice-cube tray, who unloads the clean dishwasher, who occasionally pees in the shower, whose eyelid twitches on first dates; that only we take casualness terribly seriously; that only we fashion supplication into courtesy; that only we hear the whiny pathos in a dog's yawn, the timeless sigh in the opening of the hermetically-sealed jar, the splattered laugh in the frying egg, the minor-D lament in the vacuum's scream; that only we feel the panic at sunset the rookie kindergartner feels at his mother's retreat. That only we love the only-we. That only we need the only-we. Solipsism binds us together, J.D. knows. That we feel lonely in a crowd; stop not to dwell on what's brought the crowd into being. That we are, always, faces in a crowd. — David Foster Wallace

Huh. Leo scowled at his monitor. In his tattered work shirt and grease-splattered jeans, he looked like he'd just lost a wrestling match with a locomotive. — Rick Riordan

His only thought now was the question in what way he could best, with most propriety and comfort for himself, and consequently, with most justice, shake off the mud with which she had splattered him in her fall, and then proceed along his path of active, honourable, and useful existence. — Leo Tolstoy

Wherever the family was, these two dogs, both six-year-old shepherd mixes, took up their posts at the central coming-and-going point. Gil called them concierge dogs. And it's true, they were inquisitive and accommodating. But they were not fawning or overly playful. They were watchful and thoughtful. Irene thought they had gravitas. Weighty demeanors. She thought of them as diplomats. She had noticed that when Gil was about to lose his temper one of the dogs always appeared and did something to divert his attention. Sometimes they acted like fools, but it was brilliant acting. Once, when he was furious about a bill for the late fees for a lost video, one of the dogs had walked right up to Gil and lifted his leg over his shoe. Gil was shouting at Florian when the piss splattered down, and she'd felt a sudden jolt of pride in the dog. — Louise Erdrich

As Lorcan stared down at Lysandra, his blood-splattered face impassive. "Out of the way, shifter."
Lysandra had held up a slender hand- and Lorcan paused. The shape-shifter pressed her other hand against her stomach, her face blanching. But then she smiled and said, "You forgot to say 'please.' "
Lorcan's dark brows flattened. "I don't have time for this." He made to step around her, shove her aside.
Lysandra vomited black blood all over him.
Rowan didn't know whether to laught or cringe as Lysandra, panting, gaped at Lorcan, and at the blood on his neck and chest. Slowly, too slowly, Lorcan looked down at himself.
She pressed a hand over her mouth. "I am-so sorry-"
Lorcan didn't even step out of the way as Lysandra vomited on him again, black blood and bits of gore now on the warrior and on the marble floor. — Sarah J. Maas

Three years ago my kindness covered me like a pure white blanket. Soon after, my white heart started to have tiny flecks of the truth splattered against it.
Tainting it. — Calia Read

Some of them are mech," said Zita, nimbly picking her high heels through the steaming pools of red goo and severed, wriggling limbs. She was splattered with blood and grinning as she came to them, but she frowned to see the utter bafflement on Rose's face. "Hey, snap out of it. Haven't you seen mech before?" She kicked a man's severed head, and Rose gasped when his face slid off, revealing a skull of gleaming silver metal.

Rose shook her head. "Mech are illegal. The government s-said they feared a robot war!" she insisted, turning to follow as Zita limped past her.

Zita laughed dryly, folding up her rifle and tucking it under her skirt. "Is it so hard to imagine your government lied? Governments tend to do that. — Ash Gray

Modern warfare wasn't supposed to have this much blood in it. The weapons were supposed to cook everyone neatly, like eggs in their shells. (Mark Vorkosigan's first experience with warfare, on seeing Miles Vorkosigan splattered before him) — Lois McMaster Bujold

A relationship is like a road trip: You get bugs splattered on the windshield. By the time you see them, it's too late, but you still keep going. — T. Geronimo Johnson

Black civil rights activists in the South were among the first to resist the draft. SNCC's Bob Moses joined historian Staughton Lynd and veteran pacifist Dave Dellinger to march in Washington against the war, and Life Magazine had a dramatic photo of the three of them walking abreast, being splattered with red paint by angry super-patriots. — Howard Zinn

What's coming out of the stereo is like a genre unto itself, a charming, fucked-up fairy tale that immediately breaks my heart in all the best ways.
I stretch out on the floor with my ear parked next to the speaker, in a trance. I place the album cover over my face to block out any interruption as "I'll Be Your Mirror" seduces me. I immediately add the song to my mental list of top ten songs ever.
And as I'm bobbing my head with dreamy abandon, I hear a voice. "Nice choice, DJ," it says.
I slowly slide the album cover down past my eyes and look up. My eyes spy his shoes first
paint-splattered brogues. My heart stops when I look at his face. Pale skin, messy black hair, emerald eyes ... Senor Smolder! He's eighteen, maybe nineteen. And no, my imagination didn't lie, he is just as devastating now as he was the first time I saw him. Only even more, because he just complimented my taste in music. — Shauna Cross

Give me love like her
'Cause lately I've been waking up alone
Paint splattered teardrops on my shirt
Told you I'd let you go
And that I'll fight my corner
Maybe tonight I'll call you
After my blood turns into alcohol
No I just wanna hold you
Give a little time to me or burn this out
We'll play hide and seek to turn this around
All I want is the taste that your lips allow
My, my, my, my oh give me love — Ed Sheeran

I am one of those lucky marvels whose husband has banned them from the kitchen, the last and now permanent ban was during an Everton Three (door slamming on hand) when he'd lamented, in a crazed manner to no one in particular after my failed tomato soup experiment, 'She'd burn air, so she would,' accompanied by wild pacing around the tomato splattered linoleum. — Lily Graham

Some of this vile decoction splattered the trousers and shoes of His Serene Majesty the Station-master of Pandoro. Making him instantly less Serene, and considerably less Majestic. — Alex Martin

Ethan stood there, his face blue and wrinkled, his lips pulled into a rictus grin. In one hand, he clutched a butcher knife. Blood splattered his hands and face. 'Mommy slipped,' he whispered, and plunged the knife into my leg — Julie Kagawa

Splattered all over the wall, come right up off his feet like a pulled puppet just — Richard Price

The multicolored leaves were softly glowing against the black sky, creating an untimely nocturnal rainbow which scattered its spectral tints everywhere and dyed the night with a harvest of hues: peach gold and pumpkin orange, honey yellow and winy amber, apple red and plum violet. Luminous within their leafy shapes, the colors cast themselves across the darkness and were splattered upon our streets and our fields and our faces. Everything was resplendent with the pyrotechnics of a new autumn. — Thomas Ligotti

When you've had one call after another and your little one is tugging on your shirt, remember what really matters. When the milk is splattered all over the floor and those little eyes are looking at you for your reaction, remember what really matters. It takes 5 minutes to clean up spilled milk; it takes much longer to clean up a broken spirit. — Rebecca Eanes

She put a few drops of the liquid in the bottle on her hands and rubbed it into her skin. When she felt the familiar warmth begin to seep into her hand, indicating that it was indeed a liniment of some sort, she splattered it liberally on Kerim's back and set to work.
"Remind me to recommend you to the Stablemaster," said Kerim, his voice tight with pain. "You need to find more honest work than thievery."
"Honest?" questioned Sham, pressing deeply into his back with her thumbs. "I'm the most honest thief in Purgatory, just ask the Shark. I pay him a copper a week to say so. — Patricia Briggs

If walking into the responsibility of caring for eighteen children was difficult, walking out on that responsibility was almost impossible. The children had become a constant presence, little spinning tops that splattered joy onto everyone they bumped into. — Conor Grennan

Long after Paige disappears into the clouds, I turn around, looking for my mother. It's not that I don't care about her. It's just that our relationship is more complicated than the usual daughter-mother relationship. The rosy love I'm supposed to feel for her is slashed with black and splattered with various shades of gray. — Susan Ee

He was so fucked, careening madly down the path to getting his heart splattered all over hell. And grinning like a buffoon the entire time. — Cherrie Lynn

She held her sword like she was ready to use it on anyone who got close. Darquesse could see her own reflection in the blade. A pretty girl with a scar on her cheek, fifteen years old and dark-haired. Her pale face splattered with other people's blood. Her eyes, dark-ringed. Is this what they all saw, she wondered, or did the see something else? Something magnificent and terrible? Something monstrous? — Derek Landy

Broken necks, splattered patellas, severed arteries: These are the things from which dreams are made of. — Road Warrior Hawk

I heard a baby cry. And this blood-splattered thing was put in my arms. My child. And, at that moment, it was like a gigantic plug appeared and - POW! - I was plugged into humanity in a way I'd never been before. Never could be. I was part of all mothers and all births from the beginning of time. I was a woman in a mud hut in Africa, in an igloo in the Arctic, a wigwam in America, a cave, a skyscraper, a spaceship. I was part of a flow and that flow was blood - — Philip Ridley

Okay. There was a word that covered a lot of ground. If you were in an airplane crash from thirty thousand feet and walk away with broken bones and burns, you're considered a survivor. You are okay. If you trip going upstairs to play Nintendo and get a bloody nose, you are not okay. In which category did getting splattered with grease fall? — Robert Hawks

smashed that kid's face in. I bashed his brains until they were splattered across the floor. Eric snapped his fingers to bring Aaron back around. "Earth to Holbrook. — Ania Ahlborn

A small insect, clearly suffering from acute depression, decided that my open mouth was the ideal route for a suicide mission. With kamikaze-like determination, it rocketed down my throat and splattered against my tonsils. - Calma Harrison — Barry Jonsberg

Ysabel probably shouldn't have giggled as he pulled himself from the pool, water streaming from him in thick rivulets. But really, what did he expect? Groping her while she drove, making her all hot and distracted. The jerk. He should count himself lucky. Most guys would've ended up splattered on the sidewalk. Maybe she didn't hate him after all.
Hair plastered to his skull, dripping like a big sea monster, he glowered at her. "You are an evil witch."
Fluffing her hair she smiled. "Why thank you. I try my best. — Eve Langlais

Survivors look back and see omens, messages they missed.
They remember the tree that died, the gull that splattered onto the hood of the car.
They live by symbols. They read meaning into the barrage of spam on the unused computer, the delete key that stops working, the imagined abandonment in the decision to replace it. — Joan Didion

his shiny armour splattered with more goo than an amateur porn queen. — Warren Hately

Singer Cilla Black's introduction to homophobic bullying occurred during a visit from Billy, a dear childhood friend. Sharing a room with Ms Black's boyfriend, Billy Returning after having gone out by himself: collapsed by the bed and burst into floods of tears, his face bruised and splattered with blood ... " I'm Gay," Billy said, "and I've just been beaten up and robbed by a guy who picked me up in a bar and took me back to his place." — Cilla Black

Blood from her palm splattered down her tunic, but she shoved the pain aside and butted her elbow into his stomach. Rolfe's breath whooshed out of him, and he doubled over, only to meet her knee slamming into his face. A faint crack sounded as her kneecap connected with his nose. When she hurled Rolfe to the dirt, blood was on her pant leg - his blood. — Sarah J. Maas

Time seemed to stand still as she noticed three droplets of blood splattered on the Indian's cheek. Crimson red, she thought. Three crimson red droplets. The color of the rubescent calla lilies in her mother's garden. Her mother had explained the wine colored flower meant strength, and passionate courage. How fitting, Zee thought as shock of the reality around her began to set in. — Basil Pearl

I never wanted this," said Bastian, crouching over him. He brought the paperweight down again, into the center of Mason's face, feeling the bridge of his nose fracture under the blow. "I never said yes." He lifted his arm and brought it down again and again, and closed his eyes as the red liquid splattered over his face, dousing him in warmth. "You never gave me the chance." He didn't stop until Mason's twitching limbs fell still and his breath creased to froth through his ruined jaw. — Lisa Henry

I tried to walk into Target, but I missed. I think the entrance to Target should have people splattered all around. — Mitch Hedberg

He gave a moment's consideration to the possibility of lingering to wash his face and hands (maybe even to changing his puke-splattered shirt), but he decided to forgo cleanliness in favor of making a fast exit. — Clive Barker

By the time we met up again, she'd be able to hand her reaction to me as a tidy package: a single square of lasagna in a sealed Tupperware container as opposed to a squalid kitchen with tomato sauce splattered on the counters. And I wouldn't have to be there while she got it in order. — Curtis Sittenfeld

Chickens are soaked in baths of chlorine to remove slime and odor. Mixtures of excrement, blood, oil, grease, rust, paint, insecticides, and rodent droppings accumulate in processing plants. Maggots and other larvae breed in storage and transportation containers, on the floor, and in processing equipment and packaging, and they drop onto the conveyor belt from infested meat splattered on the ceiling. — Steve Striffler

Wilson exchanged his cello for a second set of keys and a clean shirt and jeans. He hadn't been splattered by vomit, but he insisted he reeked of it. I had never seen him in anything but slacks and dress-shirts. The T-shirt was a snug soft blue, and his jeans were worn, though they looked expensive. He hadn't bought them at Hot Topic. Why is it that you can see money even when it comes wrapped in a T-shirt and jeans?
"Nice pants," I commented as he approached me at the door.
"H-huh?" Wilson stammered. And then he smiled. "Oh, uh. Thanks. You mean my trousers."
"Trousers?"
"Yes. Pants are underwear, see. I thought . . . um. Never mind."
"Underwear? You call underwear pants?"
"Let's go, shall we?" He grimaced, ignoring the question and pulling the door closed behind him. He looked so different, and I tried not stare. He was . . . hot. Ugh! — Amy Harmon

Brush strokes write poetry harmonized through the cords of an artist's imagination.
Color, contrast, simple compassion splattered across paper leaves tainted with the melody of the silent wind.
Gasping, grasping, simply glancing at the souls of those who were not blessed with the visionary sight of inspirational artistry. — Laura S. Al Bast

She needed to get out of there. Her brains, thankfully, were still safely in her skull, but her emotions were splattered on the pavement. — Francine Pascal

Roth grinned then. Anyway, back to me. I'm all better and I am back. He slid me a sly look that made me want to punch him instead of cry into my pillow like a baby. I'm sure I was missed. He took a big bite of the hamburger and grinned around the mouthful. A lot.
I didn't know what happened that switched my emotions so fast. The hurt his rejection had left behind exploded into rage- like the head-spinning, spraying-green-vomit kind of rage. My brain kicked off. I wasn't thinking as I reached over and plucked the hamburger right out of his hand.
Twisting at the waist, I threw the hamburger on the floor behind Roth as hard as I could. The satisfactory splat it made as ketchup and mayo splattered like a gruesome burger massacre brought a wide smile to my face. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

I found myself thinking of Potts as a tragic figure, a guy who'd been a happy towheaded kid you'd love to take fishing with you, who'd mistakenly invested in academic medicine when he'd have been happy in his family business, and who'd become a splattered mess on the parking lot of a hospital in a city he'd despised. What had been the seductiveness of medicine? Why? — Samuel Shem

Enough! We have enough enemies as it is! There are worse things out there to face!"
Celaena slowly turned to him, her face splattered with blood and eyes blazing bright. "No, there aren't," she said. "Because I'm here now. — Sarah J. Maas

Bea had to admit that the landscape was rather pretty, with all those sparkling drops hanging off branches (waiting to destroy one's clothing, but one mustn't be squeamish about it). And the birds were singing, and so forth. She even saw a yellow flower that was rather nice, although mud-splattered.
"Look!" she said, trying to be friendly. 'A daffodil!'
'Yellow celandine,' her companion said curtly.
After that, Bea gave up the effort of conversation and just tramped along. — Eloisa James

Shouts of dismay rose as the red flesh splattered against the table. It was only a tomato, but one would think I was pulping a decaying heart by the noise the big, strong FIB officers were making. — Kim Harrison

Sunday had spread all over the city. It looked as if the sun had smacked into the earth and broken into pieces and chunks of wet light were scattered everywhere
in the streets, on the window panes, on puddles and roofs. I remembered a day long ago when Grandmother had cleaned a big fish. Her forearms were splattered with shiny scales. It was as if she had Sunday in her whole body. When my father got angry, he had Tuesday. — Ismail Kadare

I held my breath was the beast still there or was it done killing for the night? I sincerely hoped for the latter upon reaching the cabin the lights where still on and the massive trail of blood was splattered all over the walls the place was a mess "Get it together Ris." I say to myself as I continue to examine the cabin. — Charon Lloyd-Roberts

Daniel looked down the barrel of the shotgun al set to blow his
brains out and grinned. These days, even a gun-toting, trigger-happy
female was a delight to behold, and she was perfect.
Sunlight streamed in through the kitchen window. She all but shone
with it, like an angel or a princess or something. Something a little
overdue for a bath and a lot on edge, but something very good just
the same. The feeling of sweet relief rushing through him nearly
buckled his knees.
Tall and curvy, around thirty at a guess, and uninfected, she was by
far the best thing he had ever seen in jeans and a t-shirt. Not even the
dried blood splattered on the wal behind her could diminish the
picture she made.
Sadly, his girl did not appear to share his joy — Kylie Scott

Nothing gives me greater pleasure than to say yes, only to have my plans fall through at the last minute and I can take off my regular-people clothes and redon my paint-splattered yoga pants. — Jen Lancaster

Haha, I can't hit you. If I did, I'd feel sorry for the person who'd have to clean up the mess of your splattered brain. — Kyousuke Motomi

The Werewolf crossed the rutted path just as Bill pedaled into the middle of Neibolt Street. Blood splattered its faded jeans, and looking back over his shoulder, filled with a kind of dreadful, unbreakable fascination that was akin to hypnosis, Richie saw that the seams — Stephen King

The war had been started, the spark already ignited when he'd appeared on that battlefield in Israel. Michael stood there, leading the warrior angels against the uprising. "Stop this, Luce." "You know I can't." "This is your last chance, brother," Michael warned. "End this right now." Luce shook his head. "No." It was then that it changed, the air shifting as the blood of his extended family splattered his clothing, matching red seeping into the sky above. Michael's expression hardened, every ounce of love and respect melting away to resentment. They — J.M. Darhower

Jack Miller aimed his shotgun at the monster's grey-skinned head and pulled the trigger. Green sludge and bits of bone and flesh splattered through the air to land on the street, the gory aftermath releasing a noxious, sulfurous odor. — Danielle Monsch

Ringside seats mean you hear the breaking of ribs, the splattered cartilage of what was once the boxer's nose, the dislocation of the jaw, the horrifying 'ugggh' that the boxer utters milliseconds after receiving a crushing left hook to the solar plexus or kidneys or head. — Dan Hill

I can't help thinking of Jackson Pollock, who poured, splattered and lashed the canvass with strings of paint. His process was about snaring not only a vision, but the moment the vision occurred to him. The paint becomes a net cast around something too fast to be caught. The bare spaces between the net's strands are as significant as the strands themselves because they hint at what can't be painted, can't be described. — Jocelyn Lieu

If we are all to them is a pile of shit, then let's be a shit all the way, shoulder to shoulder, because they're bound to get splattered with some of the shit that we supposedly are — Jose Saramago

Over by the campfire, Tyson let loose with his paintball gun. A blue projectile splattered against one of the centaurs, hurling him backward into the lake. The centaur came up grinning, covered in swamp muck and blue paint, and gave Tyson two thumbs up. — Rick Riordan

He did not appreciate the fact that his own fishing trip to Florida, coinciding with his wife giving premature birth, was splattered all over the front pages while Kennedy's tryst with girls on friend George Smathers's boat in Florida, while Jacqueline Kennedy was giving well-planned birth, was treated like a national secret by his media protectors. — Steven Travers

Their marriage hadn't died dramatically. There were no adulterous truants or burst spleens or freakish lightning strikes or splattered brains over the highway. Their marriage had died of neglect and errors and abrasiveness. It died under a long protracted illness for which there was a diagnosis but no remedy. The disease had no name. So how could she explain it to others? — Meghna Pant

Edward still had the rifle up, sighted on Titus. Aikensen seemed frozen, standing there with the bloody knife. "Put it down, blondie, right now, or she's dead." "Edward." "Anita," he said. His voice sounded like it always did. We both knew he could drop Titus, but if the man's finger twitched while he died, I died, too. Choices. "Do it," I said. He pulled the trigger. Titus jerked back against the bars. Blood splattered over my face. A glob of something thicker than blood slid down my cheek. I breathed in shallow gasps. Titus slumped along the bars, gun still gripped in his hands. — Laurell K. Hamilton