Discover the most popular and inspiring quotes and sayings on the topic of Horribly. 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 Horribly Quotes And Sayings by 92 Authors including Seanan Mcguire,Tonya Hurley,Haruki Murakami,I.j. Sarfeh,F Scott Fitzgerald for you to enjoy and share.
All's well that ends with only minor lacerations.
It was like death by a thousand paper cuts.
The pain I imagine is worse than the actual pain.
They dumped him in the orphanage as dust and dirt swirled in fierce desert winds howling like jackals. It was a day when hawks flew against the wind without making headway, hovering over him, preparing for the kill. As if he were their helpless prey. And that was how he felt. Helpless.
A pause; it endured horribly.
It's not going well!-- Deyth Banger
Mitch woke up the next morning the way he always did: badly.
Pretty good. Pretttttttty, pretttttttttty, pretttttty good.
How's the world treating you this morning?'
'Like a baby treats a diaper.
It was like pulling one loose thread on a sweater, and suddenly, poof, no sweater! And you're standing naked in a new hotel with terrible lighting.
A twisted, pale figure writhing in agony, chest bare and hideous. Tight, rigid cords of sickly green veins webbed across the boy's body and limbs, like ropes under his skin. Purplish bruises covered the kid, red hives, bloody scratches. His bloodshot eyes bulged, darting back and forth.
Hmmm, very severe... Poor condition, heavy infection... Disarticulation... Oh no, no... Clearly broken... Mm-hmmm... All right, then, all's well, perfect health, clear to go.
He felt rather like someone lying in a bath after all the water has run out, witless, almost dead.
One way or another,-- Skyla Madi
Wretched, in a word, because she had behaved as any healthy and virtuous English girl ought to behave and not in some other, abnormal, extraordinary way.
Life is, of course, terrible.
Like piles of dry wood with red-hot coals underneath.
That was extraordinary. Unfortunately, extraordinarily bad.
Love well, whip well.
There is nothing worse than doing the wrong thing well.
I'm starting to think that this situation is the exact antonym of excellent.
from any anatomical disgust
Sick in the world's regard, wretched and low.
Done to death by slanderous tongue
Everything was wonderful and then everything was awful.
She should feel sick. Horrified, stunned. But the horrible truth was, she felt fine. He killed. He killed to protect her. And some
ancient, atavistic streak inside her wanted to preen and purr. She was one sick puppy.
So how's the putrid pile of caca doing?
The next day was wonderful...and terrible. So, overall, I guess it was okay.
It was terrible if you looked at things the way they could have been, but if you concentrated on what there was, it didn't look too bad.
She felt dirty, ugly and tired. She felt like a marshmallow heading into a house fire armed with chocolate and graham crackers.
Crack'd in pieces by malignant Death.
He didn't understand what happened to him. He felt like a piece of paper that had once had coherent writing on it but had been through the wash. He felt roughened, bleached, and worn out along the fold lines.
Are you badly hurt?"
"Hideously," said the king, without sounding injured at all. "I am disemboweled. My insides may in an instant become my outsides as I stand here before you.
outwardly nice but inwardly horrid.
They are quite hopeless - drooling, driveling, doleful, depressing, dropsical drips.
Furiously and gorgeously write your ass off.
And let's be honest, you weren't exactly harmed. I even took you home." "You dumped me on my doorstep. According to my mother, I looked half dead." "Your mother exaggerates. A third dead at most." I stared at him. Wow. Just wow.
It is as bad as bad can be: it is ill-fed, ill-killed, ill-kept, and ill-drest.
The good news: he dropped Annabeth. The bad news: he dropped her headfirst onto the rocks, where she lay motionless as a rag doll.
Good or bad? Ty asked, rubbing his fingers over Zane's chest to soothe him. Smith chose that moment to come out of hiding, pouncing on his moving fingers and landing on Zane's chest. His claws sank in, turning the bed into a frenzy of cat fur, flying linens, and screaming FBI agents.
I felt, by turns, numb, hot with a monstrous embarrassment, and sick as though I'd eaten splinters of glass and was slowly shredding inside.
I was covered in gore, dripping in slime, and in a very bad mood.
She stabbed him in the armpit, deep, and he dropped his sword.
And died.
So that's what is feels like, she thought as her boldness gave away to trembling. It feels awful.
If you harm a horse do you make him better or worse?"
"Worse.
Hurrying, dragging, falling, crying, calling out names hopefully and hopelessly.
Tore up from the floor up. Followed by a big outtie.
John Mathew
Stark raving mad.
It hurts to watch the fluency of a body acclimated to its shackling.
We are well," Hugh said, looking me over with more intensity than seemed proper. "And you?"
"I'm well, thank you," I said, lying through my teeth. I'd been better the day I took to my bed with measles.
Man is a beautiful machine that works very badly.
When everything went wrong at once, it felt like folding origami in a hurricane.
How bad is it?" "They drafted me," I said. "That's bad, all right," Bob said cheerfully.
She was beautiful in a damaged way.
like a prancing horse, shouting at Richard
I didn't respond to him. Couldn't speak at all. Couldn't look at his self-mutilation
not even the clean, bandaged version of it. Instead, I looked at my own rough, stained house painter's hand. They seemed more like puppets than hands. I had no feelings in it either.
both touching and somehow repulsive.
I felt about him as I might feel about a friendly, dimwitted dog that had decided to move in with us. He could not be cast out into the street, but he was shedding all over the furniture.
I'd forgotten how much feelings hurt.
it's blindingly awful and awfully satisfying all at the same time.
Miserably disturbed!' that is not strong enough. He was haunted by the remembrance of the handsome young man, with whom she stood in an attitude of such familiar confidence; and the remembrance shot through him like an agony, till it made him clench his hands tight in order to subdue the pain.
'Translations,' Lateran said scornfully, examining the bruises along Kestrel's ribs. 'Like caressing your lover through a burlap sack. You get the gesture of the thing, but not the nuance, and it is overall an irritating experience.'
Sometimes words are not enough. There are some circumstances so utterly wretched that I cannot describe them in sentences or paragraphs or even a whole series of books.
tightly, without
She feels a great pang of loss, an unexpected welling of sorrow mixed with confusion.
To say my day was not going well, would be like saying the French Revolution had been a bit troublesome for Marie Antoinette.
Some good, some so-so, and lots plain bad: that's how a book of poems is made, my Friend.
Like a book completely intact but missing one word every dozen, making it a miserable and confusing read.
an agony of humiliated indecision
It looks as though it hurt."
"It did."
"Did you cry?"
His fists clenched involuntarily at his sides. "Yes!"
Jenny walked back around to face him, pointed chin lifted and slanted eyes wide and bright. "So did I," she said softly. "Every day since they took ye away.
With the flat smile of the deeply inconvenienced.
She was singed, bleeding, bruised, and furiously alive.
Be honest, how hideous do I look?"
He took another step back and pursed his lips.
"That bad, huh?" I muttered.
No, no Bella. Actually ... " He seemed to be struggling for the right word. "You look ... sexy."
I laughed out loud. "Right."
Very sexy, really.
Your words are hurting me very badly; I can feel it inside my bones.
God, you tick me off."
"Well, at least I got you - "
"Don't even finish that statement!" I snatched up my socks and tights. Rolling them on, I hobbled on one foot. "Ugh, I hate you sometimes."
He sat up in one fluid motion. "Not too long ago, you were really, really loving me.
Those who meant well behaved in the same way as those who meant badly.
Failures are like skinned knees, painful but superficial.
In fact the bare adjective "bad" hardly scratches the surface of the man's awesome incapacity.
How much an ill word may empoison liking!
I can just say exactly what happened.
All hell broke loose- and I mean that more literally that you can possibly imagine.
Burned and squashed to death in a silver vat of soup. There must be worst ways to go. But not many.
like a disaffected swan -
With grace and beauty, feel.
Tonight started innocently enough. Most terrible things do, right?
Like a kid kicked out of class. humiliated and free.
I was so humiliated, hurt, spurned, offended, angry, sorry
I cannot hit upon the right name for the smart
God knows what its name was
that tears started to my eyes.
From blissful to tragic, innocent to ruined?
They whipped us like a tied up goat.
without batting an eye. She hated how much
What it must feel like to lie back with cut wrists in a warm bath, a voluptuous dwindling feeling.
People run away, pull their hair, go off in different directions, nodding their heads and going, "Oh, God." I am slightly disheveled, I think. I'm really pleased that I am, because otherwise I could be in a really, really dull and boring place now, as a musician, at least.
That last gallop had flayed her raw skin to shreds. "Saddle sores. Trivial hurts, for all that they are mine." His brows rose. "What do you call severe, then?" She staggered away past the beheaded commander. "That.
This sentiment was expressed not so much in words and actions as in terrible and articulate sounds
It hurt, and that is not a euphemism. It hurt like a beating.
Great, huge sobs for herself, for her relatives, for the torment and shame of her past, for losses which could never be recovered.
A ruined man fell from her hands like a ripe fruit, to lie rotting on the ground.
His face is livid, gaunt his whole body, his breath is green with gall; his tongue drips poison.
So much the worse for you!" he said mentally, like a man who, after vainly attempting to extinguish a fire, should fly in a rage with his vain efforts and say, "Oh, very well then! you shall burn for this!
The skeleton warrior's right foot and hand were slowly dissolving from poison. His head was on fire, but otherwise he looked pretty good.
We're taking you to the hospital,' it said, 'you're going into shock. Can you tell us how you feel?'
'I feel ... ' What do I feel?
I guess that's good enough.
I feel.