There’s a head inside the ball?” Surefire turned a shade paler along the edges of her face paint. “It is good,” Coatl responded. “Makes the ball lighter, bounce farther.” “You always want to get a head in the game,” Raven added.
Hell hath no fury like a queen scorned."... ...That would be the last time he made a crack about being a flamer to someone with a flamethrower for hands. Though he'd really lost it when Raven sang the lyric to Disco Inferno.
And suddenly I am blindingly angry at Raven--for her lectures, and her stubbornness, and for thinking that the way that you help people is by driving them against a wall, by beating them down until they fight back.
Kiss someone like kissing is the only way you have to communicate. There is no conversation. There is no sex. There are only two sets of lips that are ravenous to be recognized and treasured.
My soul is wrapped in harsh repose, Midnight descends in raven-colored clothes, But soft... behold! A sunlight beam Butting a swath of glimmering gleam. My heart expands, 'tis grown a bulge in it, Inspired by your beauty... Effulgent.
Erik Lehnsherr: [Raven kisses Hank while he takes her blood to formulate a serum that would normalize their mutation appearances] Kinky, by the way, if I look like you, I wouldn't change a thing.
[Eric points a gun at Raven] Charles Xavier: Eric, what are you doing? Erik Lehnsherr: I'm sorry, Charles. We can't risk keeping her alive, now that we know what happens...
The black bird cocked its head to one side, and then said, in a voice like stones being struck, 'You shadow man.' 'I'm Shadow,' said Shadow. The bird hopped up onto the fawn's rump, raised its head, ruffled its crown and neck feathers. It was enormou...
Raven scowled at her. 'Fine. But if I accidentally shoot you because my aim is shaky, because I'm too tense, because I wasn't given the chance to relax before going into a potentially very dangerous situation, you'll be happy blaming only yourself?
Mad Hatter: “Why is a raven like a writing-desk?” “Have you guessed the riddle yet?” the Hatter said, turning to Alice again. “No, I give it up,” Alice replied: “What’s the answer?” “I haven’t the slightest idea,” said the Hat...
The men in the nearby village fear us, thinking we are witches. Women who live without men—especially old women who grow herbs, heal the sick, and befriend wild animals—are always suspect.
But some characters in books are really real--Jane Austen's are; and I know those five Bennets at the opening of Pride and Prejudice, simply waiting to raven the young men at Netherfield Park, are not giving one thought to the real facts of marriage.
Hope is a fire more ravenous than the flames of temptation. For if only a portion of it poisons your veins, it is enough to make you stand against ridiculous odds again and again and again.
You grow ravenous. You run fevers. You know exhilarations. You can't sleep at night, because your beast-creature ideas want out and turn you in your bed. It is a grand way to live.
There's a light shining in him, moving him forward: the light of freedom. That's what draws all of us to follow, to take risks, to keep on fighting when we see our comrades fall beside us. But there's no light without shadow.
Music eliminates my gravity. When I'm singing, I'm a ravenous pterodactyl. I'm alive and free and hungry, and I know who I am. But the flood is coming; it's weighing me down, making me prisoner to my loneliness and pain. -character Joanna (Broken)
Sam: [In the women's dressing room] What kind of bird are you? Sparrow: [Starting to point to the other actresses] I'm a sparrow, she's a dove... Sam: [Cutting her off] No. I said... [Points to Suzy] Sam: What kind of bird are YOU? Suzy: I'm a raven.
Hank McCoy: What if, whatever we do can't be changed? What if Raven will kill Trask anyway? What if that is who she is? Charles Xavier: Just because someone stumbles and loses their path, doesn't mean they're lost forever.
Lies are just stories, and stories are all that matter. We all tell stories. Some are more truthful than others, maybe, but in the end the only thing that counts is what you can make people believe.
They wouldn’t even lift a finger to save their own grandmothers from the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal without orders signed in triplicate, sent in, sent back, queried, lost, found, subjected to public inquiry, lost again, and finally buried i...
My heart is hardy, for I have suffered much on the seas and the battlefield: this will be only something more. But a ravenous belly cannot be hid, damn the thing. It gives a world of trouble to men, makes them fit out fleets of ships and scour the ba...
