Thriller Bark Quotes

A racist cop pulls over a black driver for little reason other than the fact that the driver is black and a recent robbery was committed by a couple of young black guys in a white community. The cop quickly realizes the driver is not one of the robbery suspects. He sees a man with a wife and two small children. They are not a couple of young punks. Still,he persists. Why? “He asks to see the driver’s license and registration. While locating the appropriate documents, the black driver respectfully volunteers that he is legally carrying a handgun. The cop panics—is it the image of a black man with a gun? He barks out conflicting orders and then shoots the man to death, in front of his family. Why? “Is it because the cop is an insensitive racist? Maybe he wasn’t trained or taught any better? Perhaps he lived a completely different life in a completely different world than that of the black man. In this cop’s world, were all black men potential criminals, people to be watched, people to be feared?

Diesel was about to place the cockroach on the casket, and my purse rocked out with “Thriller” again. “Excuse me,” I said. And I answered my phone. “I’m beginning to appreciate Hatchet,” Wulf said to Diesel. Diesel smiled. “She has her moments. And she makes cupcakes.” I disconnected and stuffed my phone into my pocket. “Well?” Diesel asked. “It was Glo. Her broom ran away again.” “I would appreciate it if we could get on with this without more interruption,” Wulf said in his eerily quiet voice, his eyes riveted on mine. “Lighten up,” I said to Wulf. “Glo lost her broom again. This is a big deal for her. And what have we got here anyway…a dead guy and a Stone. Do you think they can wait for three minutes longer?” Diesel gave a bark of laughter, and Wulf looked like her was trying hard not to sigh. - Diesel, Lizzy, and Wulf, page 306-307.

Keto wasn’t just any dog. He was vicious, trained to be a killing machine when called on. Pack had invested much time and effort into training Keto. He hadn’t barked before attacking the murderer. It was close to a stealth attack. Probably flew through the air the final eight or ten feet. Mouth open wide, upper and lower incisors ready to rip the prey apart painfully, efficiently.  And the killer’s screams weren’t just any screams. They were shrieks, the kind arising from sheer terror. Knowing your means of defense are dead, as dead as you soon will be.  

A racist cop pulls over a black driver for little reason other than the fact that the driver is black and a recent robbery was committed by a couple of young black guys in a white community. The cop quickly realizes the driver is not one of the robbery suspects. He sees a man with a wife and two small children. They are not a couple of young punks. Still,he persists. Why? “He asks to see the driver’s license and registration. While locating the appropriate documents, the black driver respectfully volunteers that he is legally carrying a handgun. The cop panics—is it the image of a black man with a gun? He barks out conflicting orders and then shoots the man to death, in front of his family. Why? “Is it because the cop is an insensitive racist? Maybe he wasn’t trained or taught any better? Perhaps he lived a completely different life in a completely different world than that of the black man. In this cop’s world, were all black men potential criminals, people to be watched, people to be feared?

It seemed for a moment as if something was there, loitering between the knurled and towering cherry trees, a flash of a presence as stark as the sight of the snow against their bare branches and cracked, piceous bark. Unblinking, I watched the edge of the lake, waiting for it to reappear, but whatever it had been was gone, vanished under cover of a willow tree, lofty and dense, rearing over the lake, its branches dripping all the way to the ground. The tree’s lament had been transformed into a thing of such beauty I was tempted to go and hide within it.

At the very end of the street the bitumen gave way to reddish-orange dirt. And then it stopped altogether. Proud gumtrees blocked the road, their bark peeling off to fall on the ground like withered grey skin. The hot, evening breeze caused the gums to sway; the rustle of dry leaves like a whisper...

How dare you talk shit about me in my place?" "This place belongs to the institution, not you." He barked. "And I pay the institution to call it mine. Look, what business do you have with me?

Flanked on both sides, the relentless pursuit of the creatures intensified, their rampage tearing through the forest with a destructive force. The deafening cacophony of snapping branches and splintering trees reverberated through the air, echoing like the collision of runaway locomotives, piercing their very souls with terror. During the chaos, Ajax's presence remained steadfast. His strident barks kept reminding the family of his valiant presence as he kept up with the attackers. His resiliency to defend his family-pack resonated throughout the turmoil. God knows what they’ll do to him if they get their… hands on him, now thought Carter, fully admitting to himself that these were indeed Sasquatches—the dreaded Bigfoots of legend.

Their dogs pulled on their leashes, snarled and barked. They were eager for meat. Dorring guessed that over the years they’d gotten a taste for prisoner.

And their voices had a keenly musical quality. It wasn't that the animal people barked out literal instrumental notes or sand when they spoke. Rather, their words ignited emotional responses Nina had previously only experienced through music. When they were worried, she experienced the squeals of violins, the quick-heartbeat thrum of a thriller soundtrack. Risk and Reign's bickering had the impact of a rattling gourd and snare drum. Oli's hopeful questions were reminiscent of the lo-fi hip-hop Nina played when she studied.

Without electronics to help me through my miserable life, I decided that I’d start working out. It would be great. My dad has a weight room in the basement that he doesn’t really use anymore, so I could lift down there. I began fantasizing about becoming huge and having girls all over me, which helped me through the rest of the evening, but of course I never actually got to lifting. All I did was lie down and dream, until school bitch slapped me into consciousness the following morning." - Michael

goal? Through the dirty passenger window, the condos and apartments I eyed gave way to small homes, which eventually gave way to shanties built out of rusted aluminum siding. Thirty minutes later, the vehicle stopped outside what seemed like a warehouse or a small factory—odd, even for a shanty neighborhood. I stepped out of the vehicle and, for the first time since I had been in Thailand, I heard crickets singing, the occasional dog barking, and the rustle of tree leaves filled my ears. My driver