Pit Viper Quotes

Belikov is a sick, evil man who should be thrown into a pit of rabid vipers for the great offense he commited against you this morning." "Thank you." I said primly. Then, I considered. "Can vipers be rabid?" "I don't see why not. Everything can be. I think. Canadian geese might be worse than vipers, though." "Canadian geese are deadlier than vipers?" "You ever try to feed those little bastards? They're vicious. You get thrown to vipers, you die quickly. But the geese? That'll go on for days. More suffering." "Wow. I don't know whether I should be impressed or frightened that you've thought about all of this.

You think this is some sort of comedy going on here?” Collins gave him his tough stare. A little red spark flared in Barabas’s eyes. “Excuse me.” He struck with preternatural quickness and yanked a five-foot snake from the counter, an inch away from Tsoi’s elbow. Tsoi jumped, clearing half the room in a single bound. The snake body flailed in my lawyer’s fist. Barabas jerked the snake to his mouth and bit its neck. “Jesus Christ!” Collins took a step back. Tsoi clamped her hand over her mouth. Barabas spat the head onto the counter. “Pit viper—my favorite. Where were we? Ah, yes. You were trying to intimidate me. I apologize for the interruption. Please, resume your staring.

Adam mused, “Incorruptus. I never thought anyone would use that word to describe Lynch.” Ronan looked as pleased as a pit viper ever could.

I'd rather meander through a pit of vipers than love one more person, but since I'm on the subject of snakes, we all know one, or are one.

Ronan looked as pleased as a pit viper ever could.

Something keeps me moving forward, though. A lifetime of watching the Hunger Games lets me know that certain areas of the arena are rigged for certain attacks. And that if I can just get away from this section, I might be able to move out of reach of the launchers. I might also then fall straight into a pit of vipers, but I can't worry about that now.

Dark eyes. Bronze skin. Red lips. All smiles and sunshine, unaware she’d walked into a pit of vipers. A goddess entering the gates of hell, and she didn’t even know it. A pulse ticked in my jaw.

Jararaca” his father said. It was a pit viper, one of the most venomous snakes in the Americas. (A jararaca bite will cause a person to bleed from the eyes and become, as a biologist put it, “a corpse piece by piece.”)

He alone knew the USSR was populated by many total enemies of socialism, egotists and vipers of the future world, and he secretly consoled himself by the thought that one day soon he would exterminate the whole mass of them, leaving alive only proletarian infants and pure orphans.

And if we don't keep moving, we won't make it to a computer in time to stop the submarine sale because we'll have to spend a second night in the jungle, surrounded by friggin' pit vipers. In the rain. And I am sick and tired of the rain. I want to get a roof over our heads and dry clothes for you because I can see right through your damn shirt and it's driving me crazy.

I gave him the same ferocious look I’d given Dimitri. This time, it worked. Mason’s face paled. “Belikov is a sick, evil man who should be thrown into a pit of rabid vipers for the great offense he committed against you this morning.” “Thank you.” I said primly. Mead, Richelle (2008-04-10). Frostbite: A Vampire Academy Novel (p. 46). Penguin Young Readers Group. Kindle Edition.

lost-and-found items left behind on trains and in stations, and the unusual, strange items among them—the ashes of cremated people, wigs, prosthetic legs, the manuscript of a novel (the stationmaster read a little bit of it and found it dull), a neatly wrapped, bloodstained shirt in a box, a live pit viper, forty color photos of women’s vaginas, a large wooden gong, the kind Buddhist priests strike as they chant sutras … “Sometimes you’re not sure what to do with them,” the stationmaster said.

There are three ways to approach secrets, you know. The first is what you find on soap operas and in poorly executed middle-school maneuvers. First, you uncover a piece of incriminating information, and then you use it to force a steady stream of favors or payment or behavior. The problem here is that, if extended indefinitely, the expected cost of compliance eventually outweighs the cost of exposure. Moreover, the probability that you'll lose your monopoly of your information increases with each passing day. Never, ever assume that you're only person digging for dirt, especially in Los Angeles. Vipers are measured by the pitful for a reason. The second approach is more effective: You make one, single very carefully chosen demand. And you give your mark just one chance. This was my usual MO. If this mark doesn't do as you ask, when you ask, you leak their secret. No excuses. No mercy. Brutal consistency is the key to credibility. Mothers, dog trainers, Israel -- you know what I'm talking about. But there's also a radical third approach: You reveal that you know the secret...and they you keep it under wraps. Do that, and they're not just going to tell you other secrets, they might even keep yours in return. And they'll think they're doing of their own free will when what you've really done is painstakingly aligned your incentives. That's all trust is, really. Some people are just incentivized by nature.

Lady Rose, you grow lovelier every time I see you.” Had it been a stranger who spoke she might have been flustered, but since it was Archer, Grey’s younger brother, she merely grinned in response and offered her hand. “And your eyesight grows poorer every time you see me, sir.” He bowed over her fingers. “If I am blind it is only by your beauty.” She laughed at that, enjoying the good-natured sparkle in his bright blue eyes. He was so much more easy-natured than Grey, so much more full of life and flirtation. And yet, the family resemblance could not be denied even if Archer’s features were a little thinner, a little sharper. How would Grey feel if she found a replacement for him in his own brother? It was too low, even in jest. “Careful with your flattery, sir,” she warned teasingly. “I am trolling for a husband you know.” Archer’s dark brows shot up in mock horror. “Never say!” Then he leaned closer to whisper. “Is my brother actually fool enough to let you get away?” Rose’s heart lurched at the note of seriousness in his voice. When she raised her gaze to his she saw only concern and genuine affection there. “He’s packing my bags as we speak.” He laughed then, a deep, rich sound that drew the attention of everyone on the terrace, including his older brother. “Will you by chance be at the Devane musicale next week, Lord Archer?” “I will,” he remarked, suddenly sober. “As much as it pains me to enter that viper’s pit. I’m accompanying Mama and Bronte. Since there’s never been any proof of what she did to Grey, Mama refuses to cut the woman. She’s better than that.” Archer’s use of the word “cut” might have been ironic, but what a relief knowing he would be there. “Would you care to accompany Mama and myself as well?” He regarded her with a sly smile. “My dear, Lady Rose. Do you plan to use me to make my brother jealous?” “Of course not!” And she was honest to a point. “I wish to use your knowledge of eligible beaux and have you buoy my spirits. If that happens to annoy your brother, then so much the better.” He laughed again. This time Grey scowled at the pair of them. Rose smiled and waved. Archer tucked her hand around his arm and guided her toward the chairs where the others sat enjoying the day, the table before them laden with sandwiches, cakes, scones, and all kinds of preserves, cream, and biscuits. A large pot of tea sat in the center. “What are you grinning at?” Grey demanded as they approached. Archer gave his brother an easy smile, not the least bit intimidated. “Lady Rose has just accepted my invitation for both she and her dear mama to accompany us to the Devane musicale next week.” Grey stiffened. It was the slightest movement, like a blade of grass fighting the breeze, but Rose noticed. She’d wager Archer did too. “How nice,” he replied civilly, but Rose mentally winced at the coolness of his tone. He turned to his mother. “I’m parched. Mama, will you pour?” And he didn’t look at her again.

She was in a nest of pit vipers, and just because she herself was one did not mean that someone wouldn’t turn and strike at her.

Weddings do women no good at all. They’re a viper’s pit of waste and despair. And nearly every aspect of them reverberates badly against the very people who love them the most: us. Our love for a wedding is a bad love. It does us no good..... It’s the best day of your life.’ Well. The snags here are obvious. Of course it’s not the best day of your life. A day that was really the best day of your life wouldn’t involve Uncle Wrong, Aunt Drip, and someone from your office you had to invite,... Surely, women, we would happily exchange one ‘special’ day for a life filled with more modest pleasures? Or perhaps we should just junk the whole idea of getting married in the first place. I’m generally against anything where you’re supposed to change your name. When else do you get named something else? On joining a nunnery, or becoming a porn star. As an ostensibly joyful celebration of love, that’s bad company. to be in.

Vipers [10w] To a snake, a pit of vipers means party time!

The hole between this Red-tailed Bamboo Pit Viper's eye and nostril lets it "see" heat. Some snakes have pits between their eyes and nostrils. These pits allow the snake to sense heat. This is called infrared vision. They can find a mouse or frog for dinner even in total darkness.

When you are in a pit of vipers, you have only one choice, bite first - Dahag

To understand another animal’s Umwelt, you have to watch its behavior. But a pit viper’s behavior mostly consists of waiting. Since they don’t generate their own body heat, they can go without eating for months and can sit in ambush until exactly the right moment. The few researchers brave enough to study them end up with animals that mostly sit around doing nothing, which makes them very hard to train—or comprehend. After all, even animals that we already understand and that we know how to train can sense heat in ways that are hard to explain.

You’re all using me. This whole gods-damned House is using me. Just because I’m choosing to play nice for now doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten that I’m a mouse in a pit of hungry vipers.” “A mouse?” He leaned in, strands of my hair swaying in the gust of his ragged breaths. “We may be vipers, but you’re no mouse. You’re a fucking dragon.

The main social media platforms have been weaponized to sow confusion and turn people against one another. Mass murder has come with misinformation. There’s a community for every viper’s pit of falsehoods on the world wide web.

Awesome people aren't bullies. Awesome people are accepting and nice and don't call people traitors or Mutts or act like the world should revolve around them, because it doesn't. My world has never revolved around you, and never will, got it?

First rule: respect nature and the natural order of the world. Second rule: never hunt other Animalgams. And the third and most important rule: never, ever reveal the Animalgam world to a human.

Life is hard, and it changes in ways we don't want or expect. Running away isn't the answer. We have to find the good in what we have, and we have to appreciate it.

Sometimes the family you choose is far better than the one you're born into.

Noticing that Cam and Merripen were speaking to each other in Romany, she asked her husband, “What are you talking about?” “There are peacock feathers on her gown,” Cam remarked, in the same tone he might have said, There are poisonous flesh-eating spiders on her gown. “It’s a very dashing effect.” Amelia looked at him quizzically. “You don’t like peacock feathers?” “To the Rom,” Merripen said soberly, “a single peacock feather is an evil omen.” “And she was wearing dozens of them,” Cam added. They watched Leo walk away with Vanessa Darvin as if he were heading toward a pit filled with vipers.

Barabas spat the head onto the counter. “Pit viper—my favorite. Where were we? Ah, yes. You were trying to intimidate me. I apologize for the interruption. Please, resume your staring.