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Serial Killer Thriller Quotes

Quotes tagged as "serial-killer-thriller" Showing 1-6 of 6
Zoe Rosi
“Once my gag reflex subsides, I let my eyes wander over his
body, taking in his glorious abs, his pecs, the groove between them,
the dips under his collarbones. He really is stunning. If I were a
painter, I’d paint him. If I were a sculptor, I’d sculpt him. If I were
a photographer, I’d photograph him. But I’m just me, so I fuck
him.”
Zoe Rosi, Pretty Evil

Christopher Stanfield
“There are other girls out there just like Abby West. They don’t have someone to speak on their behalf. I tried to, in my own special way, but I think you’ll have a better chance than me to become the kind of change they really need. The world doesn’t need another Bloody Rose.”
Christopher Stanfield

Zoe Rosi
“I sigh, peering out of the window. We’re far out of central
London now and I scan the streets, trying to get my bearings. We’re
getting nearer to Julian’s resting place. I recognise an old police station, converted into cheap flats. This part of London feels darker
than Mayfair. It’s as though the streetlights don’t shine as brightly.
Cheaper models, not as many. I like it. Every time I come here, on
a certain level, I relax. It almost feels more like home than Mayfair.
Mayfair is who I want to be, Hayes is who I am. My veins are the
dark streets, pulsing with traffic. There’s wreckage all around: craterous potholes, crumpled railings, abandoned cars, derelict homes.
Nothing’s ever repaired. It’s all broken. The poverty’s inescapable.
The air perpetually stinks.”
Zoe Rosi, Pretty Evil

Christopher Stanfield
“Every pretty thing has a reason to exist. It was what he always said. The words that summed up all the peculiarities of his very peculiar life. He never dwelled on what it meant. That was the uglier side. And he never liked to dwell on that at all.”
Christopher Stanfield, Bitter Seeds

Christopher Stanfield
“Be calm. Be clear. Your violence waits upon a whim.”
Christopher Stanfield, Bitter Seeds

Christopher Stanfield
“A man begging for his life is a sonnet. That man screaming for it to end is a symphony.”
Christopher Stanfield, Shadow of a Rose