Discover the most popular and inspiring quotes and sayings on the topic of Macabray. 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 Macabray Quotes And Sayings by 87 Authors including Thomas Bailey Aldrich,Holly Black,Edgar Allan Poe,Nona Balakian,Ridley Pearson for you to enjoy and share.
Night is a stealthy, evil Raven, Wrapt to the eyes in his black wings.
When Tana was six, vampires were Muppets, endlessly counting, or cartoon villains in black cloaks with red polyester lining.
Once upon a midnight dreary
Miss MacIntosh, My Darling stands out in my mind as the most significant innovative novel since Ulysses and The Waves. Marguerite Young has added epic grandeur to the philosophical novel. Every page gleams with the poetry of existence.
disney in shadows
black beyond black
Between the journeymen, vampires crouched like monstrous gargoyles: hairless, corded with a tight network of steel-hard muscle, and smeared in lime-green and purple sunblock. Bubble-gum-tinted nightmares.
This is a time for beasts, Jaime reflected, for lions and wolves and angry dogs, for ravens and carrion crows.
Murana is the name of the mask I have designed for Venini: a volume to wear for filtering the reality through the glass of its surfaces, a face without sexual or racial connotations able to represent every kind of humanity, a soul for an object that could be casually perceived as a vase ...
THE NIGHT OF CARAVAL EVE
was a bird. A bird struggling through stickiness: a bird coated in paint, floundering in its nest, splashing color everywhere. Red. Red. Red. Dozens of them: black feathers coated thickly with crimson-colored paint, fluttering among the branches. Red
A man. A shock of black hair. An intriguingly tilted set of eyes, the hue I couldn't make out in the dark, but shockingly, I could see one was a color that was light, the other a color that was definitely dark.
Ian Rankin's Rebus is the king of modern British crime fiction. He is dour, determined, and constantly falls foul of his seniors. For all this, we root for him. He is eminently loveable, a quixotic hero moving through the darker half of a Jekyll and Hyde Edinburgh.
The monster towered ten or twelve feet tall. Its bright green leathery skin was covered in dirt,
moss, leaves, and patches of grass, the stench repulsive. His teeth gleamed brown. Evidently he
wasn't aware of the multitude of whitening products on the market.
A dark and towering shadow, rising like the phoenix from the ashes ... malevolent ... omnipotent ... The Phantom of the Opera!
version of Amber.
Angela Montgomery was in the hall, shadows and her own long black hair wrapping around her. Ash could see only her face, which gave the impression that she was a beautiful human Cheshire cat, come not to smile but to look deeply disdainful of everything.
Nuzleaf Grass/Dark
ORANGE MARMALADE',
Banks watched the sun creep over the forest of oak trees and a crack of light broke through the night and grew longer and wider and ate the black like a fungus until the darkness was gone and there was light and it was day.
Dark, dark! The horror of darkness, like a shroud, wraps me and bears me on through mist and cloud.
airing the marmots
Five Nights at Freddy's The Silver Eyes
Darkness has conquered the day; the arms of the night slapped the living daylight off the day.Gripping. Killing. Totally overwhelming. The taste of darkness bitters my mouth
as I struggled against unnumbered foes.
A Boat O beautiful was the werewolf in his evil forest. We took him to the carnival and he started crying when he saw the Ferris wheel. Electric green and red tears flowed down his furry cheeks. He looked like a boat out on the dark water.
Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers are proud to present THE MARAUDER'S MAP It
Peering at the crest, with its faded leopard couchant,
The raven himself is hoarse, that croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan under my battlements ... Lady Mac
The screen blanked, then produced a book cover. The jacket image - in black-and-white - showed barking dogs surrounding a scarecrow. In the background, shoulders slumped in a posture of weariness or defeat (or both), was a hunter with a gun. The eponymous Cortland, probably.
Messers Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs
Purveyors of Aids to magical Mischief-Makers
are proud to present
THE MARAUDER'S MAP
High house shadow, and a knife in the dark. A new game's begun, or the old one's just turned.
Hello there, the angel from my nightmare.
the shadow in the backgroung of the mourge.
the unsuspecting victim of darkness in the valley.
we could live like jack and sally if we want.
DRACULA A Mystery Story by Bram Stoker
The dark has teeth.
They're here!" he cried, slamming the door and scuttling to the window.
Amber frowned. "The vampires?"
Glen looked back at her, real fear on his face. "Your parents.
Logan McCade. Paging Logan 'Pantyripper' McCade. Please return to your conference call.
For a moment he [Doctor Pascal] thought he could see, in a flash, the future of the Rougon-Macquart family, a pack of wild, satiated appetites in the midst of a blaze of gold and blood.
Scar. I still don't know his real name. The man's like Beetlejuice... or hell, maybe he's Voldemort. He's fucking Bloody Mary. Don't dare say his name or he might show up.
Ronan Lynch, keeper of secrets, fighter of men, devil of a boy,
Lord of the Muck.
the cloak of Sorrow: O
Autumn arrives like a warrior with the stain of blood upon his brazen mail. His crimson scarf is rent. His scarlet banner drips with gore. His step is like a flail upon the threshing floor.
Ronan and Declan Lynch were undeniably brothers, with the same dark brown hair and sharp nose, but Declan was solid where Ronan was brittle. Declan's wide jaw and smile said Vote for me while Ronan's buzzed head and thin mouth warned that this species was dangerous.
Jericho."
"Mac."
"Thank you for saving my life. Again.
Dark vaild Cotytto, t' whom the secret flame
Of mid-night Torches burns; mysterious Dame
That ne're art call'd, but when the Dragon woom
Of Stygian darknes spets her thickest gloom,
And makes one blot of all the ayr
One night Death left his card. I was not familiar with the name he chose: but the black edge was deep. I flung it back. A thousand awakenings of violence.
Baobab. Away in the distance I could see the cloud-softened
Swift is the arrow, dark is the thorn, the slate is clean, the future awaits, awake.
the bed, narrow apple-green draperies at
There was a goblin, or a trickster or a warrior. A nameless, terrible thing, soaked in the blood of a billion galaxies. The most feared being in all the cosmos. Nothing could stop it or hold it or reason with it. One day it would just drop out of the sky and tear down your world ...
a cloud of black-and-orange butterflies for the Mullendores.
How do you kill a vampire?"-Mac "Hope hes not"-Barrons
Face in the Sun with the dark circles of beautiful nights the mouths of tigers.
There's a monster in our wood. She'll get you if you're not good. Drag you under leaves and sticks. Punish you for all your tricks. Anest of hair and gnawed bone. You are never, ever coming ... home.
In the description of night in Macbeth, the beetle and the bat detract from the general idea of darkness - inspissated gloom.
Scarecrow queen. Nothing but a dupe, alone in a field, hoping to keep the crows at bay.
The Sick Rose O Rose, thou art sick. The invisible worm That flies in the night In the howling storm Has found out thy bed Of crimson joy, And his dark secret love Does thy life destroy.
When anyone asks me about the Irish character, I say look at the trees. Maimed, stark and misshapen, but ferociously tenacious.
Madness, and then illumination.
Vampire, come to me...
The night is dark and filled with terrors,
I love you, Mac. And I'm never going to leave you like your mother left your father. I'm never going to break your heart like your mother broke your father's I'm in this thing until the end.
Phantasm, a pink-palmed jinn, a ghost from one of the drowned cities.
From warriors ravens grew red And with their leader a host attacked.
Are you here about the infestation?"
MacMillian stiffened. "I don't ... We aren't-"
Lena cleared her throat. "I'm afraid bugs aren't really our specialty."
"Not bugs." The woman shook her head vigorously. "Ghosts. Whole place is crawling with 'em.
Am I on your walk of shame? You did sleep with the right MacGregor, didn't you?
grotesque countenance
What the hell kind of name is Kitty for a werewolf?
THIS IS THE HOUSE OF TARZAN, THE KILLER OF BEASTS AND MANY BLACK MEN. DO NOT HARM THE THINGS WHICH ARE TARZAN'S. TARZAN WATCHES. TARZAN OF THE APES.
Hart caressed the letters of baby Graham's name. Mac likes to say, We're Mackenzies. We break what we touch. But this little Mackenzie ... he broke me.
Orange, Longbottom.
He was an image of Ronan, and also of Declan, and also of Matthew. A handsome devil with one eye the color of a promise and the other the color of a secret.
Inhaler. Rylie crept around a tree, peering into the darkness. Maybe it was a deer or something. If that's you, Amber, you better hope I don't find you. I'll - I'll beat you
Wolf-Spiders Ruleth the Land
...bleached by darkness
Seductive pull of the forest, an open canvas for trouble.
Aelin of the wildfire.
On a Creep Scale from Hello Kitty to Cthulhu, I award it a Freddy
Krueger.
Granuaile MacTiernan
Squirrelpaw!" Brambleclaw's
The orange sun is rolling across the sky like a severed head, gentle light glimmers in the ravines among the clouds, the banners of the sunset are fluttering above our heads. The stench of yesterday's blood and slaughtered horses drips into the evening chill.
The moon rose, striking fire from the Cimmerian's horned helmet. No call awoke the echoes; yet suddenly the night grew tense and the jungle held its breath. Instinctively Conan loosened the great sword in its sheath.
Menagerie. Personally,
Dark Jar Tin Zoo's face is sallow, his cheeks sunk in, and he looks like Edvard Munch's "The Scream," only less colorful.
A hunter of shadows, himself a shade.
'MacGruber' came to life mostly because we just liked saying 'MacGyver.' 'MacGyver' this. 'MacGyver' that. It's a great word.
A cave of scars!
ancient, archaic wallpaper
built up, layer on layer
from the earliest, dream-white
to yesterday's, a red-black scrawl
a red mouth slowly closing
A red sun rises. Blood has been spilled this night.
Me, Tarzan. You, Jane. I kill bad guy. Beat chest. Tarzan howl.
Hither came Conan, the Cimmerian, black-haired, sullen-eyed, sword in hand, a thief, a reaver, a slayer, with gigantic melancholies and gigantic mirth, to tread the jeweled thrones of the Earth under his sandaled feet.
Lord Maccon reflected upon the state of his life wherein he had somehow gained a spouse who could not give a pig's foot for the latest dresses out of Paris but who whined about not owning an aethographic transmitter. Well, at least the two were comparable obsessions so far as expense was concerned.
red-hot fireflies
Someone was trying to kill Lady Alexia Maccon. It was most inconvenient, as she was in a dreadful hurry.
Ll dark hair and blue smudges in the moonlight.
Conchar is an ancient Gaelic term for those who admire the king of all hunters: the wolf.
To some, the wolf is a magnificent beast, the pinnacle of predatory evolution. To others, the wolf is a thing of nightmare.
Who are the real monsters?
The horizon is touched with red: the sun is rising, a rusty colour, the colour of old blood, and I'm so filled with fear it is an agony, a shredding feeling, worse than any nightmare I've ever had.
You asked for dark. I'm going to give it to you ... You are the violence inside of me, Aubree. My most exquisite destruction.
Welcome, welcome to Caraval! The grandest show on land or by sea. Inside you'll experience more wonders than most people see in a lifetime. You can sip magic from a cup and buy dreams in a bottle. But before you fully enter into our world, you must remember it's all a game.
Rat. A curse, an insult, a word totally without light.
It was a gracious evening, full of delectable lights and shadows. In the west was a sky of mackerel clouds-crimson and amber-tinted, with long strips of apple-green sky between. Beyond was the glimmering radiance of a sunset sea, and the ceaseless voice of many waters came up from the tawny shore.