Sicko Quotes

He was so sexy that my body went all hot when I saw him kind of like an erection only I’m a girl so I didn’t get one you sicko.

I just wish I could walk into my Senator’s office and say, “Senator Dude, Um, we have a problem with these sicko scientists…” But then again, I don’t think we have a Senator, do we? Is there a state where mutant freaks are represented? If so, let me know.

Ew, sicko. I was practicing Edomic." "Sure you were," Jason said. "You're just too embarrassed to admit you were playing hide-and-seek all alone. Rachel hiding, nobody seeking.

I’m somewhat disgusted at myself for thinking such dramatic, girlie thoughts. But I can’t help myself. He rocks my world. You know how parents always say things like, “If all your friends jumped off a cliff, would you jump too?” Well, if Carter jumped off a cliff, I wouldn’t just jump off after him. I’d throw myself over the ledge and dive toward the earth below so I could catch up with him and hold his hand while we plummeted to our deaths. Yeah. I’m that much of a sicko.

She's not just my rock, she's my whole fucking world. I knew that from day one. My life began with her, and It'll end with her.

Family. Six letters, one meaning, but double-sided. Family could be the reason why you trust someone, or it can be the reason why you’d never trust anyone again.

Ed held his sword tight in both hands and went slowly and carefully down. There was the unmistakable smell of sicko down here and Ed’s throat was very dry.

He was so sexy that my body went all hot when I saw him kind of like an erection only I’m a girl so I didn’t get one you sicko.-- Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way

You can't drown yourself that simply. All good suicides involve speed and irreversibility, because the body will always move to protect itself against the sicko mind trying to do it in.

Same old boring boring story America can’t stop telling itself. What is this sicko fascination? Every book and movie practically has to have a little, right? But why do you think all those runaways are on the streets tearing up their veins with junk and selling themselves so they can sleep in the gutter? What do you think the alternative was at home?

Now Lewis joined in. 'A sicko walks into a bar,' he said. 'WHAM! And then i hit him with the bar again, an iron bar, and knock him flat, then i hit him again, and again and again until his brains are, like, smashed all over the pavement. And then i slice him up with my new katana!' 'Yeah, Lewis,' said Brooke. 'Funny joke. Way to lighten the mood, bruv.

She’s not just my rock, she’s my whole fucking world. I knew that from day one. My life began with her, and it’ll end with her.

Sickos never scare me. At least they’re committed.” —Selina Kyle (Michelle Pfeiffer)

I’ve always loved the defiance of the ocean. It’s moody, beautiful, and could kill you if you’re not smart enough to handle its currents.

He was a different person now, and not a better one, Oh, he could fight, he could swat sickos like flies; he was a bloody hero, wasn't he? He was Death himself. Riding a bike. But in the end, all he was doing was adding to the score of the dead. Was that all a hero was, then? A killing machine without a heart?

Pepper spray," he said, lightly touching her back. "Give it a second." "Pepper spray?" "You were a casualty of your own rescue." He pointed and she turned to look at the scene behind her. Over a dozen old ladies were beating the man with their purses and dousing him with pepper spray. Several police officers hovered nearby, as if they couldn't get close enough to help the guy. They didn't look like they were trying very hard. "What kind of sicko pervert are you?" one woman demanded. "Liz Sutton is one of us. You try to hurt her, you answer to all of us. You got that?" "Seniors to the rescue," Ethan told her.

If we make our own history, if we tell stories that bring us together, we'll be stronger. It'll give us something to believe in. The sickos can't do that – they're no better than animals – but we can. Every battle we win we have to tell the story over and over, so that we can win more battles. People love stories. They've told stories since even before they could write. Myths and legends, stories of heroes and villains, gods and monsters. Real things happened, the story got told and then the stories became legends. That's what we've got to do – tell our own heroic stories.

If you struggle to sleep at night, someone is thinking of you.

One of the reasons I love Murder is that victims are, as a general rule, dead... I don't make a habit of sharing this, in case people take me fore a sicko or- worse-a wimp, but give me a dead child, any day, over a child sobbing his heart out while you make him tell you what the bad man did next. Dead victims don't show up outside HQ to beg for answers, you never have to nudge them into reliving every hideous moment, and you never have to worry, and you never have to worry about what it'll do to their lives if you fuck up. They stay put in the morgue, light-years beyond anything I can do right or wrong, and leave me free to focus on the people who sent them there.

Adult men. Fucking adult men. Nutters, all of them. Can’t be trusted. Fucking sickos. Freaks. Killers. What was this man’s road to becoming Batman on a side street of inner-city Brisbane? How much good was in him? How much bad? Who was his father? What did his father do? What did his father not do? In what ways did other adult men fuck his life up?

They created the monster and then asked why I bite.

I am a pacifist, danm it! And now I'm bleeding. What is wrong with you, you sick sicko?

He’s hot as fucking sin, and I’d gladly kneel at church on Sunday for devouring that.

if Polanski had coerced Sharon into sleeping with two men, and filmed it, wasn’t that spousal abuse? “Roman’s a sicko,” Bugliosi had said. “He was making her do it.

Edison? Like Thomas?” “Who’s Edison Thomas?” “I mean Thomas Edison. The inventor?” Peabody explained. “The lightbulb?” “No, for Christ’s sake, this isn’t about lightbulbs. Like the sicko guy who married his own mother, then whined about it.” After a moment’s confusion, Peabody’s own lightbulb went off. “That’s Oedipus. I’m pretty sure that’s Oedipus.” “Edison, Oedipus, platypus. Whatever.

So, I just want to say thank you. To you, who is reading this book. Thank you for taking a chance on my world and allowing me to meddle with your mind for eight hours. I’ll buy you a drink when I meet you. —A

He embedded himself into my heart and I sewed my name across his limbs.

People expect monsters to come in nightmares, while forgetting to protect their dreams.

Most jobs left me out of money, not gaining any. And while I did shit because it was right, because the system failed the population, because sickos like Harold could walk free, I was still human. I had to eat. I had black hoodies to buy. I had lye and bleach to stock up on. Normal shit.

Sometimes people are just bad. There’s no reason why they’re bad, or no defining moment that made them snap, sometimes, they’re just evil.

Heaven won’t take me, and Hell won’t welcome my demons back.

A well-made lie will continue to burn the tip of your tongue well after you've been fed truth

It’s about who is still standing beside you after seeing you at your worst.

Oh my God. It is your nookie box. How many times have you had sex on that blanket?” “Never, you sicko. I make them stand.” “Asshole.

Oh my God. It is your nookie box. How many times have you had sex on that blanket?” “Never, you sicko. I make them stand.” “Asshole.

Every single day that I’m breathing means your days are guaranteed.

Sometimes you don’t even have to have sex at all, and for that kind of sicko, you charge double.

You've got to cram it into your thick heads: the sickos that sent us to this place are so stuffed with hate they've got to spew it out on someone, it almost doesn't matter who. If it's not one race, face or religion it'd be another. Right now it's us they vomit on. Next war it'll be some other poor beggars, then some others, then -' 'I want to go home!' the poor woman gasped, in between shakes and sobs. 'And I want to murder every last beast in this hellhole with my bare hands,' Girder raged. She had hands as big as dinner plates. 'The best we can do instead is live. Are you listening? The only way to beat them is by not dying. So shut up and survive, you miserable cow. And let the rest of us sleep.

Looks, intimidation, specialisation, special titles, awards, and any superlative status quo can never hide the deficient character of a toxic leech of calumny, and/or one's excessive sense of entitlement. Genuine diplomacy, true deep honesty, sincerity, and mutual respect are absent in an arrogant, offensive, defensive, deceptive, destructive, distractive, intimidating, abusive, defamatory, sicko, toxic, and sadistic, manipulative, unscrupulous, strategical, power player, fame whore.

Chase? He actually said that to you?” She frowned. “Yes.” “When?” “When we were in bed.” “Great timing,” Dee muttered. “Just like a man. We’ll just file him away under D for dumb ass and move on. There are plenty of fish in the sea. Or better yet, S for sicko.

I found the more I drank, the deeper I fell down a hole that swallowed all of me—my pain included.

But broken girls like me don’t get perfection like Jensen. Boys like him are reserved for the girls like him.

A well-made lie will continue to burn the tip of your tongue well after you’ve been fed truth.

Not the kind of dirty that you can scrub off in the shower, but the kind that digs its claws into your watered-down soul.

I don’t warm, I’m ice cold, and once someone fucks me over, I never forget.

His ice-blue eyes. Colder than the Atlantic Ocean, but hotter than the pits of Hell.

Heaven won't take me, and Hell won't welcome my demons back.

A well-made lie will continue to burn the tip of your tongue well after you've been fed truth.

Careful who you fall in love with, every girl has a crazy best friend. And if she doesn’t? She is the crazy best friend.

The thing about trust is that it can be broken.

Get off! Get off me, ‘Felix sobbed, sounding like a little kid. Marco kicked at the sickos, slashing with his knife. It was no good, though— there were just too many of them — and he himself toppled over, landing on his friend and smothering him. ‘It’s all right Felix, ‘he said. ‘I’m with you. It’s all right. You’re not alone. ‘He felt for Felix’s hand held it tight, as more gym bunnies blocked out the light, swamping them.

You hang that girl over anything that you think I can't kill, fuck, or fight, and you can bet your bottom dollar that I will slaughter, wreck, and knock out. She isn't my blind spot, she's the fucking switch to my rage. She is what makes me fucking crazy. She is what I rip for.

Here's a good one. God made man. Guns made man equal. Guns are the legacy of liberty. Just because...just because our magazine doesn't feature a naked woman on the cover! Hell, no, there's no naked women. The sickos would rather squeeze a trigger than a woman's breast. Guns are good old boys! They got them wham-whap two-fisted names, like...like Savage, Colt, Ruger, Baretta, Sigs, Winchester... Springfield! Browning! Luger. Smith & Wesson. Remington Viper. Glock. Don't forget Glock! Markov, Walther! H and K. Mauser parabellum. Anschutz. Magnum! All sorts of mags. I quit, you win. Mags are it.

The police up in the city had endless files filled with people who were so malevolent it was almost impossible to believe they were real. People for whom children were toys. When they were broken they were simply replaced.The internet helped these people connect. Helped them find the pictures to feed the habit, and then it helped them find what they wanted. Everything was available for a price. The fucking animals went online and ordered themselves a child to play with. They went online and found some other sicko who thought the same way they did and all of a sudden they weren’t deranged or evil—they were just part of a special club. Pete could actually feel the blood in his arms heat up just thinking about it.

As we've gotten older, our connection or bond has become stronger, and that's a testament for how strong it is because when we first laid eyes on each other, we were done. It was as though the universe fucking shifted anytime we were around each other after that. He embedded himself into my heart and I sewed my name across his limbs. We fight a lot, but we love hard and when it comes to him and me, one cannot exist without the other.

So what can all you pretty young addicts learn from this? Beware. Unhealthy people attract other unhealthy people-and girls on drugs attract bad guys like a wounded baby deer attracts vultures. When you're high every day, you are vulnerable every day. You are making your judgement all screwy. You will let bad people into your life. They will steal from you and manipulate you, and possibly fuck you while you are sleeping. They will take advantage of your numbness- that you aren't feeling what one should when one is treated atrociously. They will tell you that you look amazing when you're malnourished. They will shoot you up. They will encourage you to stay on drugs: they want you woozy, emaciated, and addicted so they can keep exploiting you. Strong. healthy people just don't interest the sickos of this world as much. You want to be one of the strong, healthy people- which is practically impossible when your using. I'm telling you all this in case you are young. It took so long for me to figure it all out! Now that I'm thirty-three- officially a woman-I'm finally getting there. Guys still buzz my apartment, but I don't always let them in.

unknown to everyone but Deborah, I was a twisted homicidal sicko myself.

Courtney!’ he shouted, but didn’t know if she could hear him. Where was she? ‘Courtney!’ There. He forced his way over to her and pulled the sickos from her back. She was bleeding from small cuts all over her, and her right arm was red from shoulder to fingertips, but she was still battling with her knife. DogNut took hold of her and started to drag her away, ignoring the sickos that grabbed at him from all sides. All his energy was ebbing away. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep this up. ‘Come on, Courtney,’ he said. ‘Don’t give up. You and me, girl. You and me.’ ‘You and me, Dog,’ said Courtney. ‘Love you, girl...’ ‘Love you, too...

Racistische KUT COP scheert kutje,

Lelijke wit voorhuid stinkt naar de Hel, net als je gezicht.

Sonnet 1178 Five little rich tourists sink in a sub, Wallets open without limit on a search-n-rescue op. A 1000 migrants die each year tryna cross the sea, Borders tighten in sheer fear with no show of mercy. People are only worth saving if their savings is super healthy. 50 Shades would be a Hitchcock film if the sicko had no money. Empathy is a far cry, life is never the issue. While next-door-neighbor cries of hunger, Netflix wets more tissue.

All my little sicko sluts who want to be spit-roasted… This is for you.

Sometimes it's not about blood. It's about who is still standing beside you after seeing you at your worst.

Royce Kane is not for one girl, he’s for every girl. He’s your mom’s secret fantasy and your father’s insecurity.

Who the fuck are you?

The moment he sees a glimpse of underwear, he will be officially in Sicko Land and he will be forced to make some kind of noise. Flushing, coughing, heavy footsteps. Talk to himself out loud. The moment he sees anything that in anyway will be considered a sexual act between. . . "Stani, the bins are done!" he yells out.

yum naem kao tod. It’s a salad made from fermented pork sausage and mashed-up, deep-fried rice balls, fresh ginger, lime, basil, peanuts, and chili. It’s

No nervoza s kojom se ispucala teška municija etiketiranja s ciljem denunciranja i isključivanja govori i o nečem drugom, da stara čarolija – nazovi nekoga nepoželjnim imenom i makni ga sa svoga puta – više ne djeluje i čak proizvodi neočekivane rezultate: diskvalificira (barem kod većine mladih ljudi) one koji se njome koriste i izbacuje ih iz ozbiljne rasprave Ukratko, ako me nazoveš "Srbinom" ili "Jugoslavenom" ili "komunjarom", ne govoriš ništa o meni, već sebe identificiraš kao fašista. Možda svjedočimo promjeni mentaliteta, no o tome teško da sada možemo suditi. Ovdje smo tek pokušali zacrtati glavne tendencije diskreditiranja svake alternative dominantnom društvenom i političkom modelu koje objedinjujejedan te isti mehanizam: konstrukcija "politike straha" kao legitimacijskog sredstva za uvođenje daljnjih represivnih mjera od državnog aparata. U globalnom kontekstu to je "doktrina šoka" o kojoj govori Naomi Klein, kada pokazuje da upravo strah u mnogim povijesnim prilikama (npr. državni udar Pinocheta u Čileu, azijska financijska kriza 1997., uragan Katrina, financijska kriza 2009. itd.) daje mogućnost vladama da provedu u djelo neke dotad nepopularne ekonomske reforme. U to, svakako, spada i privatizacija obrazovanja. Kao što je u SAD-u – kako to pokazuje Michael Moore u dokumentarnom filmu "Sicko" (2007.) - privatizacija zdravstva uspjela bez većih problema, između ostalog i zato jer su korporacije populističkim argumentima, koji svoje porijeklo vuku još iz neslavne McCarthyjeve ere pedestih, besplatno zdravstvo za sve kontinuirano prikazivale kao "socijalizam" (što i dalje čine u kontekstu minimalnih i nedostatnih reformi koje pokušava provesti Barack Obama), tako se u Hrvatskoj upravo "doktrinom šoka" (eto, to su vam komunisti i teroristi, ne slušajte ih!) po tom uzoru najprije nastoji privatizirati obrazovanje – a onda, dakako, zdravstvo te svi drugi segmenti u kojima obitava potencijal Profita.

What’s going on, Faust?” “Hive B. They’re running death matches for rich sickos to gamble on. Warden Lancaster and the guards are all in on it. That’s why nobody ever comes back from Hive B. They’re not on lockdown, Brisco. They’re dead.” Under two days of stubble, Brisco’s cheeks turned pale. “Jesus,” he breathed. “You’re serious.

How many men have you fucked in this bed?” “None, you sicko. I make them stand.

She’s a sicko, Hawk.” “Ah ain’t planning to screw her psyche, babe.

Otto Devereaux was a career scumbag of almost biblical proportions. We could show his full oeuvre, but it would take too long. Let’s just lead with some of the highlights. Murder, assault, extortion. His nickname was Home Depot because he liked using tools on his victims. He enforced for the legendary Ache brothers until someone decided that he was too violent for them. Then he worked on his own or for whatever desperate bad guy needed a true sicko.” He smiled at me. “Look, Jake, I don’t know how you got the drop on this guy, but what you did was a blessing for society.” “So,

Mack Gaffey, resident veterinarian and owner of Oak Falls Kennel for the Canine Challenged came to greet him. He was a tall, painfully thin man with a tuft of wiry gray hair sticking out in horns on his head and a pair of thick-rimmed glasses. “Sheriff, glad you could make it.” They shook hands. “Alright Mack,” Al said. “So you’ve had yourself some vandalism, huh?” Mack nodded and lead him around his white GMC. On hood of the van was a fogged-up ZipLock bag. “Some sicko took a dump on my van.” Mack held up the bag so Al could see the giant, steaming turd inside. “It’s human shit, Al. I did the tests this morning.” The sheriff frowned and started wiping the hand he shook Mack’s with against his pants. “Well, this stinks.” “You should smell it out of the bag, Sheriff.

Maybe she was holding out for something that wasn’t ever coming, waiting to feel that mythical lightning strike, that sizzle. What if that glittery expectation was all bull, cooked up by the same sickos who’d invented Valentine’s Day and Brazilian waxing?

I remember calling the council's cemetery department to ask about body decomposition in different soil types. Once they had verified that I was a novelist and not a sicko, they were extremely helpful.

female students,’ Tibbsy said. ‘The old dog,’ Moast laughed. Freddie felt her lip curl. She tried to reassure herself Moast was all right, just a bit…70s. Besides, she didn’t have to like him in order to agree they had to work together to find this sicko. What was she going to do? Sit at home on Twitter until she spotted something useful? ‘It didn’t go down well with everyone. There were a lot of those hard-line feminists at his university,’ Tibbsy continued. ‘A Dr Fielding reported him for “inappropriate behaviour

But beneath them all, at the very bottom of the stack, is a worn and slightly tattered magazine called African Mamas Sucking Hog. I flip through it real quick; a bunch of young black girls dressed like Kenyans giving fat-ass bikers blow jobs. I smile at this; Elroy the scholar. Elroy the sicko masturbator.

A few other staff headed to their cars, the distant sound of other vehicles leaving on various levels. Nothing out of the ordinary, yet my nerves returned. I got to my car, unlocked it, and slid in. I turned to put my purse on the seat beside me and froze. Lying on the passenger seat was a dead rat. With the door shut, I could smell the putrid stench, and I grabbed at the door handle to open it, shocked when it wouldn’t budge. Then I saw him. Standing next to the car, holding the door shut with the weight of his hands pressed on the metal. Ernest Morton. “That’s what happens to people who cross me,” he said, loudly enough for me to hear through the glass. I covered my nose, the odor hitting me. I leaned on the horn, the sound loud in the garage. He leered at me, then let go, laughing as he strolled away. I opened the door, stepping out, shaking. I looked over at the rat, furious and upset. Obviously, I was wrong about him moving on. He was still angry. But what kind of sicko did something like this? I grabbed my phone and called Aldo. He answered right away, his voice concerned. “Vi, baby—you okay?” “N-no.

I’d rather die than be of value to that sicko. You know what that means, right?” I curl my legs to my chest, bile gliding up my throat at the mere thought. “He’s going to rape me.

I won’t lie and say it’s not hypocritical to hope he catches the sicko who raped and killed all these women. It’s hypocritical because I’m also hoping he never catches me for torturing and killing a string of men.

You are the favor factor. Which means the person with favor doesn’t chase the one that needs the favor. If you know who you are then you better carry yourself like you’re the one who’s holding all the cards. If he knows what’s good for him, he will run after you. Because you multiple whatever he has in concentrated form. You are the favor factor so stop distributing your favor to someone who has not factored a covenant into the equation.

I nod, understanding everything. Understanding that no one, not even family, is going to save me. Understanding that this is all life is for me now, one sicko after another, lining up to take something from me.

As we've gotten older, our connection or bond has become stronger, and that's a testament for how strong it is because when we first laid eyes on each other, we were done. It was as though the universe just fucking shifted anytime we were around each other after that. He embedded himself into my heart and I sewed my name across his limbs. We fight a lot, but we love hard and when it comes to him and me, one cannot exist without the other.

Darkness welcomed me during a time that I needed to feel safe, now I bathe in it to keep me sane. Light doesn't give a fuck about the damned, so with the damned, I stayed.

Music is the only thing powerful enough to fill the voids in your soul. Music is the language of healing,

To my darkness. Because the bitch really came out to play with this one.

As if I know that this right here, with him inside of me is what home feels like,

truly believe that every girl needs a best friend, but not every girl needs a husband.

My body craves her, but my soul fucking needs her.

There’s a garage filled with a bar, pool tables, and cum-filled sofas to one side, and a fighting ring on the other. Typical type shit.

will love this man for the rest of my life, and when we both finally die, our souls will continue to find each other wherever we end up. Because you can’t fuck with fate.

Royce Kane is undeniably my best friend.

I thought there was something familiar about him until I realized he looks like Chuck Bass, only older and instead of the suit, he’s wearing an MC cut.

he was fifteen, released at eighteen. A bid for possessing child pornography a year later, and then our well-oiled system sent him back to the streets. That’s when he got smart and started trolling online with the other cyber creeps. The Internet is the biggest double-edged sword in our technological history, but it’s not going anywhere. The sickos get sicker and more numerous. The Internet gives them a hidden playground, and privacy laws actually protect them. Behind the group of beautiful women and waiting to be seated were a

Heaven won’t take me, and Hell won’t welcome my demons back. I’ll be left in purgatory again, only this time for real.

Girlfriends have sight. Wives have vision. You don’t marry for better or for better. What you manifest at your lowest is who you are at your highest. If you can’t stand with this man in the bad, then why would he want to celebrate you in the good? Get that spirit of girlfriend up off you. Wives stick and stay and pray that man through until he realizes the God in him is so much greater than what the devil has whispered to him.

Marriage is not gonna feel good all the time. You have to have it together for your husband when he doesn’t have it together for himself. As his wife you’re called to help, to heal and to provide peace in ways he can’t get on his own. That’s what your rib represents. R.I.B. Rest in the brokenness. Give that man his rib. Can you give him rest in his brokenness? Own your place as the rib. Play

Marriage is not gonna feel good all the time. You have to have it together for your husband when he doesn’t have it together for himself. As his wife you’re called to help, to heal and to provide peace in ways he can’t get on his own. That’s what your rib represents. R.I.B. Rest in the brokenness. Give that man his rib. Can you give him rest in his brokenness? Own your place as the rib. Play your position. Don’t let

... so if you like to vomit, try SICKOS. So good, you can't hold 'em down!

When I told people this, I invariably got the same reaction: disgust. Staying in the house where my family were slaughtered? What kind of sicko would want to do that?