Discover the most popular and inspiring quotes and sayings on the topic of Cocked. Share them with your friends on social media platforms like Facebook, Twitter, or your personal blogs, and let the world be inspired by their powerful messages. Here are the Top 100 Cocked Quotes And Sayings by 92 Authors including Paul Lynde,John Flanagan,Alexandre Dumas,Evelyn Waugh,Elizabeth Letts for you to enjoy and share.
Peter Marshall: A western saddle has a curved horn on the front to hold something for the cowboy. What is it?
As he poured carefully, Arrow's head turned toward the sound. The horse made a low grumbling noise in his throat.
"Hold your horses," he said. The he laughed. It seemed absurd to say tat to a horse.
sun, he thought he saw the barrel of a musket glitter from behind a hedge. D'Artagnan had a quick eye and a prompt understanding. He comprehended that the musket had not come there of itself, and that he who bore it had not concealed himself behind a hedge with any friendly intentions. He
My dear, I should like to stick you full of barbed arrows like a p-p-pin cushion ... Where do you lurk? I shall come down your burrow and ch-chivvy you out like an old st-t-toat.
The stallion's crest was arched, his nose was perpendicular to the floor, and his hind legs were gathered underneath him, showing off the powerfully developed muscles in his massive hindquarters. His ears cocked back toward his rider - he was concentrating.
'Found the sheep too easy to kill?' I ask. 'Where'd you get the weapon?'
'Born with them.' His fingernails are bloody.
A dark horse riderless, bolts like a phantom past the winning post, his mane moonflowing, his eyeballs stars.
a misbegotten cockwaffle.
Cover your cocks," the men sailors sometimes joked. "They're always hunting sodomites."
"What do they do to sodomites?" Baru asked.
They looked at her with some astonishment. "Hot iron," one said. "Hssssssssss.
Who can go to a rodeo and then criticize the hunter? ... an expertly placed bullet would be the best gift a rodeo horse could receive.
I was shot from the funny gun.
A shaft of sweetness shoots through me from top to toe when the sun rises; I shoulder my gun in silent exaltation.
The bodkin, comb, and essence to prepare? For this your locks in paper durance bound, For this with tort'ring irons wreath'd around? 100 For this with fillets strain'd your tender head, And bravely bore the double loads of lead?
does my Anerew's hert guid to hae a crack wi' ane 'at kens something o' what the Maister wad be at. Mony ane 'll ca' him Lord, but feow 'ill tak the trible to ken what he wad hae o' them.
The ram winked. You like my new wool coat? Because I like ewe. Get it? Ewe?
Like I was about to say before getting interrupted, it's a modern age. I don't need a lot of muscle to pull a trigger.'
...
'Did you just shoot someone?'
'I got us hired, if that's what you're asking.
jumped when the second gunshot fired. Fueled
A bristling fox is better than a deranged, half-shod idiot.
Never point a gun unless you're ready to end a life. -Horse
Armed I am with love. Disarmed I am.
When your holding a double barrel shotgun use both barrels.
Is there a right end of a camel for your head to be in?
She was off like a bird, bullet, or arrow, impelled by what desire, shot by whom, at what directed, who could say?
You Bedazzled my stake?
You think they've killed before?"
"I'd bet your ass on it"
"Why my ass?" Eyes slitted, Peabody jabbed a finger in the air. "Because it's bigger? Because it has more padding? That's hitting below the belt."
"Your ass is below your belt. I'd bet mine, too, if it makes you feel better.
The conversation of bullets.
The Electric Monk's day was going tremendously well and he broke into an excited gallop. That is to say that, excitedly, he spurred his horse to a gallop and, unexcitedly, his horse broke into it.
You are yoked with a lamb,
That carries anger as the flint bears fire;
Who, much enforced, shows a hasty spank,
And straight is cold again.
I went to the butchers to buy a leg of lamb. "Is it Scotch?", I asked. "Why?" the butcher said in reply. "Are you going to talk to it or eat it?". "In that case, have you got any wild duck?". "No", he responded, "but I've got one I could aggravate for you."
I asked him. " 'I'm telling you that you aren't shooting blanks and haven't been for quite awhile now, ' he said. 'Millions of little wigglies in your sperm sample. Your days of going gaily in bareback with no questions asked have temporarily come to an
Hi! handsome hunting man
Fire your little gun.
Bang! Now the animal
is dead and dumb and done.
Nevermore to peep again, creep again, leap again,
Eat or sleep or drink again. Oh, what fun!
Stop," Kincaid said in a calm voice. "Unclench."
"Unclench what?" Murphy demanded.
"Unclench your ass."
"Excuse me?"
"You're going to trip the beam. You need another quarter inch. Relax."
"I am relaxed," Murphy growled.
"Oh," Kincaid said. "Damn, great ass then.
Words are loaded pistols.
Shoot straight, you bastards! Don't make a mess of it!
Crazy like a fox.
We will maintain heading until he's committed, then I want a hard
skew-turn to starboard. As hard as you can make it, Chief. I want our starboard broadside on him as he passes below us, and then I want to cut down across his stern and stick it right up his kilt. Clear? (Honor Harrington)
I shoot from the hip.
Mark, how the ready hands of Death prepare: His bow is bent, and he hath notch'd his dart; He aims, he levels at thy slumb'ring heart: The wound is posting, O be wise, beware.
Major-General Sir Wilfred Bosher came to distribute the prizes at that school', proceeded Gussie in a dull, toneless voice.'He dropped a book. He stooped to pick it up. And, as he stooped, his trousers split up the back'.
'How we roared!
You know you can't just run and shoot people in the knee-caps with double barreled shotgun 'cause you're pissed at them.
The next person who tells me something like, "Squiggle-fuck the rightwise cock-swatter with a starboard jib," is going to get a knife to the throat.
Stirred with passion, laced with fun, spiked with laughter & served with a smile. On the road. No sugar, no milk. Horn OK Please. Buy my books or may the wrath of a thousand locusts infest your underpants *Smack!!*
What has you roaring like a bull with his prick hung in a fence?
You've run a lot of risks, and gone to a lot of work, and all to turn me into a bullet for your gun. But I'm a bullet that thinks for itself, and I want to know what I'm being shot at.
There's a lathered sorrel stallion running through the Joshua trees and a young man in the saddle with his coat tails in the breeze. He's got a six gun on his right hip and a rifle at his knees and he's dealing in a game that he can't win.
With this hurried adjuration, he cocked his blunderbuss, and stood on the offensive. The passenger booked by this history
That which is now a horse, even with a thought The rack dislimms, and makes it indistinct As water is in water
Bless you, my boy. Have a horseshoe." "Thank you, sir. What should I do with it?" "Throw it." "Away?" "At that peg there. Then pick it up and throw it at this
I'd recently had a gun to my head and wasn't in the mood for any more shenanigans from the penis-endowed gender. I reached into a side pocket of my bag as nonchalantly as I could and wrapped my fingers around Margaret, my Glock.
I ought to of shot that dog myself, George. I shouldn't ought to of let no stranger shoot my dog.
Whither thou know'est thy ass from thy elbow
I look down at the gun. It's jammed. Stupid semiautomatic piece of crap.
The ear of the bridled horse is in the mouth.
Might as well toss this, Chickie, it's ruined. What was it like, getting shot?"
"What kind of a dumb ass question is that from a guy who went to medical school? It hurt!
You snipe so steady, you snub so snide, so rip and ready to diminish and deride.
Did the barrel aim so that eh eye could fire?
I am a Shotet. I am sharp as broken glass, and just as fragile. I tell lies better than I tell truths. I see all of the galaxy and never catch a glimpse of it.
A loaded gun
deadly, easy to reach, impossible to ignore.
Are you all right?"
"Leg's shot"
"How shot?"
"Well, I'm looking at the heel of my shitkicker and the front of my knee at the same time. And there's a high probability I'm going to throw up.
A birdie with a yellow bill Hoped upon the window sill, Cocked his shining eye and said: 'Ain't you 'shamed, you sleepy-'ead?
May I ask what happened to your last revolver?' 'It turned into a sword.' 'Of course it did.' 'And then the ghouls probably stole it.' Cabal smiled with an expression so close to fondness that it made Horst stare. 'The naughty rapscallions.
My mullet was an insecurity shield. My mullet was an ethnic hatchet. My mullet was an arrow on fire.
My mullet said to the literary world, Hello, you privileged prep-school assholes, I'm here to steal your thunder, lightning, and book sales.
walked erect out of my sleep
With what infinite & unwearied expectation and proclamations the cocks usher in every dawn, as if there had never been one before.
Whoever said a horse was dumb, was dumb
Here. Tea." Reagan hands me a steaming mug. One sip tells me it's not just tea.
"You spiked the drink of an injured person," I state flatly, the alcohol burning in my throat.
"Who does that?"
"It's better than what a lame horse gets,
You got a vicious animal inside you. It wants to snap, it wants to attack, but it's harmless because some woman fitted a muzzle on it. Now, how do you imagine it feels about that muzzle? How do you think it will regard the woman the moment that muzzle is off, and she is within biting distance?
Do you call that a head on your shoulders, or a blessed dead-eye?" cried Long John. "Don't rightly know, don't you! Perhaps you don't happen to rightly know who you was speaking to, perhaps? Come, now, what was he jawing - v'yages, cap'ns, ships? Pipe up! What was it?" "We
Sometimes a wild horse needs to feel that his rider is just a little bit wilder.
I shot him the bird. (Get it? I shot him the - never mind.)
His Grace woke up in the morning red-eyed as a ferret and in roughly the same temper as a rabid badger. Had I a tranquilizing dart, I would have shot him with it without an instant's hesitation.
I've been shucked and gone to heaven.
Thrice is he armed who hath his quarrel just.
Off the tilting world like thread off a
When people have guns, you run in the other direction or you're meat. We have a half-dozen deer heads on the wall at home that can tell you that."
"Or would," Howard added," if they weren't dead. And deer.
My blood!" ejaculated the vexed coachman, "and not atop of Shooter's yet! Tst! Yah! Get on with you!" The emphatic horse, cut short by the whip
about the strains of "He's got 'em on," jerked
Grandma pulled a .44 magnum out of her purse. Everybody duck, and I'll shoot out his tires.
Every bullet has its billet.
With a gun stuck in your mouth and the barrel of the gun between your teeth, you can only talk in vowels. We're
The Quaker loves an ample brim, A hat that bows to no salaam; And dear the beaver is to him As if it never made a dam.
The shot glass is half smashed.
Cover your knobber before you bob her - that's
Who shoots at the mid-day sun, though he be so sure he shall never hit the mark, yet as sure as he is, he shall shoot higher than he who aims at a bush.
Tougher'n a boiled owl.
Of the quaking recruit, three pitched battles make a grim grenadier; and he who shrank from the muzzle of a cannon, is now ready to yield his mustache for a sponge.
With a gun barrel between your teeth, you speak only in vowels.
What a heavy oar the pen is, and what a strong current ideas are to row in!
A horse must be a bit mad to be a good cavalry mount, and its rider must be completely so.
Stark raving mad.
Clunk all wound up and ready to go!
(Seth) "So," he said, looking me up and down, "you're what the fuss was all about. I can't say I'm impressed." He sneered at me. "Still riding bulls, cowboy?"
(Weber) "Nope." I smirked at him. "I only ride his cock now.
the senile, lecherous expression of a camel.
What are the asses at now?" He
Fascinating," he said. "Such maneuverability! How does the wingspan compensate for the weight of the horse's body, I wonder?"
Blackjack cocked his head. Whaaaat?
In Parliament a fellow MP whispered to him that his trousers were unfastened. "It makes no difference," Winston replied wryly. "The dead bird doesn't leave the nest.
No gun is perfectly true. So the marksman, that he may hit the bull's-eye, points elsewhere.
You pushed it too far. You shouldn't take the same risk again."
"Says the guy who got shot.
Ten minutes, good, past eleven." "My blood!" ejaculated the vexed coachman, "and not atop of Shooter's yet! Tst! Yah! Get on with you!" The emphatic horse, cut short by the whip in a most decided negative, made a decided scramble for it, and the three other horses followed
I'm Australian; I know how to use a shotgun!