Discover the most popular and inspiring quotes and sayings on the topic of Blasts. 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 Blasts Quotes And Sayings by 97 Authors including Mark Twain,George R R Martin,Tahereh Mafi,Robert Burns,Erich Maria Remarque for you to enjoy and share.
What, warder, ho! the man that can blow so complacent a blast as that, probably blows it from a castle.
heavy bonecrushing armor-smashing blades.
Ignite, my love. Ignite.
When chill November's surly blast make fields and forest bare.
Bombardment, barrage, curtain-fire, mines, gas, tanks, machine-guns, hand-grenades - words, words, but they hold the horror of the world.
The bombers opened their bomb bay doors, exerted a miraculous magnetism which shrunk the fires, gathered them into cylindrical steel containers, and lifted the containers into the bellies of the planes. The containers were stored neatly in racks.
All of their faces are cluttered with the shrapnel of rebellion, as if a grenade of alienation has exploded in their midst, piercing every possible soft point of flesh-from earlobes and nostrils to eyebrows, lips, and tongues-with metal studs and rings.
Young men, come and blow things up.
The A-bomb is dynamite.
Strung out on lasers and slash back blazers.
At dusk they pour from the sky. They blow across the ramparts, turn cartwheels over rooftops, flutter into the ravines between houses. Entire streets swirl with them, flashing white against the cobbles. Urgent message to the inhabitants of this town, they say. Depart immediately to open country.
It's exploding bags, aerosol cans Southbound buses, Peter Pan They left it up to us again I thought you knew the drill It's kill or be killed.
Funny how easily you could look this shit up online. Explosives, bombs, Molotov cocktails, IEDs . . . anything you wanted. Learning how to blow someone up was easier than buying a frigging beer.
Gloating sack of fictional cellular miss-firings. "Wow,
I was said of these bombs (referring to FAI bombs) that they were 'impartial'; they killed then man they were thrown at and the man who threw them.
Bloody flaming ashes
I do not like this word "bomb." It is not a bomb. It is a device that is exploding.
What small account The All-living seems to take of this thin flame Which we call life. He sends a moment's blast Out of war's nostrils, and a myriad Of these our puny tapers are blown out Forever.
**** the torpedoes! Full speed ahead!
Blast ignorant people with high-powered streams of information and wisdom, but only when fire hoses are not readily available.
british bombshell" -grant
Excellent. They were flammable.
Hundreds of butts in piles on the ground to mark the spot, their lives sucked out of them by their users in panicked distressed frenzy, their souls floating around the insides of lungs while their outsides were dropped, stamped on and deserted
Pretty much everything exploded.
Financial hydrogen bombs built on personal computers by 26-year-olds with MBAs.
The past is a grenade that explodes when thrown.
Like mortars in old war films, they are often ready to destroy the opponent's unsupported defences.
the remnants of wars
Bombs were generally the tools of cowards or the desperate, those who either had no stomach for looking their opponents in the eyes or those who were so outclassed that honor had become a dangerous and entirely unaffordable affectation.
Listen carefully: The difference between explosive dysentery and explosive device is huge. Still they blew up my lunch anyway.
A pod's activated ahead of us, releasing a gush of steam that parboils everyone in its path, leaving the victims intestine-pink and very dead.
excoriated and burned, mapped and measured and meted
cubes to blow torches.
Leaves," Ronan Lynch's voice said, full of intention.
"Dust," Adam Parrish said.
"Wind," Blue Sargent said.
"Shit," Henry Cheng added.
Cinders. Embers. Ashes.
And boom goes the dynamite.
The clans began to bombard the outer force field with rockets, missiles, nukes, and harsh language.
TEAMWORK: A few harmless flakes working together can unleash an avalanche of destruction.
A blast in the human breast is nothing to boast of.
Exactly what they-- Peter James
THE LUCIAN BANE BOOM TEAM:
It wasn't a bang or a boom. It was the dampest, most corpulent eruption in the history of terminal flatulence.
A bomb makes more noise than a caress, but for each bomb that destroys, there are millions of caresses that nourish life.
I heard what sounded like twenty rockets exploding nearby, because twenty rockets exploded nearby.
It's not a bomb, you ignorant fuck! It's a grenade!
TORCHES NEW ENGLAND
broke into a blaze of effulgence.
It is the job of the creator to explode. It is the task of the academic to walk around the bomb site, gathering up the shrapnel, to figure out what kind of an explosion it was, who was killed, how much damage it was meant to do and how close it came to actually achieving that.
Pack pack kill kill
I see walking bombs on the street
Hearts not beating, but ticking
All bombing is terrorism.
The enemy bombards our front not only with a drumfire of artillery, but also with a drumfire of printed paper. Besides bombs, which kill the body, his airmen also throw down leaflets which are intended to kill the soul.
Warm fuzzies?"
"I don't do warm fuzzies."
Well, we can't win 'em all.
"I do scorching blazes," he muttered under his breath. "That sear you alive.
The fires pool and strut; they flow up the sides of the ramparts like tides; they splash into alleys, over rooftops, through a carpark. Smoke chases dust; ash chases smoke. A newsstand floats, burning.
Don't fight them anymore.I'm going to go with them."
"No. I won't let them take you."
"You have to," I begged.
He was breathing hard, every part of him braced and ready to attack. We locked gazes, and a thousand messages seemed to flow between us as the old electricity crackled in the air.
An atom-blaster is a good weapon, but it can point both ways.
Dark accurate plunger down the successive knell
Of arch on arch, where ogives burst a red
Reverberance of hail upon the dead
Thunder like an exploding crucible!
Thomson's small oil sketches of the last years palpitate and throb. They are as direct in attack as a punch in the nose.
Genius as an explosive power beats gunpowder hollow; and if knowledge, which should give that power guidance, is wanting, the chances are not small that the rocket will simply run amuck among friends and foes.
I won't hesitate to detonate, I'm short fused.
As crude a weapon as a cave man's club, the chemical barrage has been hurled against the fabric of life.
I have a passing fondness for explosions.
That was concerning on so many levels.
The tiny match we've been fooling with just set off an explosion.
Fuck this. Let's just blow some shit up.
Image of a girl holding a blaster to a twin's temple. "Remember, bi***. You can't spell 'danger' without DNA."
Blam.
To have that powder blown up your nose is rather like being shot out of a rifle barrel lined with Baroque paintings and landing on a sea of electricity.
I like fast plots with things that explode.
The issue isn't the accuracy of the bombs you have, it's how you use the bombs you have - and more importantly, whether you ought to use bombs at all.
Blessed be shock. Blessed be the part of us that protects us from too much pain and sorrow. At the heart of life is a fusebox.
What twists or rage greater than we could ever guess had savaged skylines, thousands of lives?
The explosions, like the urban legends, are a great way of bringing people in to watch, because it's really fun, and you know we're always going to give you a satisfying ending.
The assailants spread out in a formation, giving her the opportunity to turn her back. But she couldn't. Cinderella scrunched her nose up. "Blast.
Me howling blasts drive devious, tempest-tossed, / Sails ripped, seams opening wide, and compass lost.
I'm out here to bomb, period. That's what I started for. I didn't start writing to go to Paris, I didn't start writing to do canvases. I started writing to bomb ... destroy all lines.
Clinton's bombing campaign has caused all of these problems to explode
Gods and Thunders!
And so, with a torn sleeve and a keyboard on which cigarette
ash can rest, writers ended up arsonists of recycled material with
a blanket over fast burning fires to send fragments of reality to the
sky for people to manage any way they wish. Or can." (intro "Throwing Dice on a Chessboard
I guess whoever built and buried that IED out there in the desert will never know how far that blast traveled. But all things ripple out, cause shrapnel.
'Blasto' is a new game for Sony Playstation. It's an awesome three-dimensional game, and I play the character Blasto who's sort of a Flash Gordon barrel-chested superhero who goes to Uranus and shoots these little green alien Fascist guys. He rescues babes; he goes on wild rides.
Did you hear about this genius that got on a plane and set fire to his feet? Turns out he had bombs in his shoes and the problem all started when the flight attendants asked him nicely to extinguish his feet. He was wearing exploding sneakers. The new Nike Air-Jihads!
heavy demolition unit.
Execute their airy purposes.
Sieges weathered.
If it works, it will be plenty dramatic. And I suppose that if it doesn't work, it will be even more dramatic, what with the blast."
"David, I think you just made a joke."
He frowned, utterly perplexed. "Did I?
I was devastated by the atrocious bombings that struck London today. These vicious acts have cut us all to the core, for they are an attack on humanity itself. [7th July 2005 - on London bombings
All right," I said. "Let's show these Seattle assholes how we do things in Vegas. Jennifer?" She held up the detonator. I nodded. "Light 'em up!" 41. One click of the detonator, so fast her fingers blurred, and the alley erupted in a blast of crumpled metal and flame.
The scream of the twelve-inch shrapnel is more penetrating than the hiss from a thousand Jewish newspaper vipers. Therefore let them go on with their hissing.
Banks burn, boys die bullet-eyed, mothers scream realization the vast tonnage of napalm
For raging wind blows up incessant showers
I don't know how to blow stuff up. You were hurting, and I wanted to help, but I didn't know how, so I blew something up.
Whack 'em, stack 'em and pack 'em.
But now the shots began - not many, but one shot is a fusillade if there have been no shots before.
But the war outside refused to be ignored for long. Antiaircraft guns rattled. Shrapnel skittered like claws across the roof. The bombs drew closer until their reports were followed by lower, more ominous sounds - the dull thud of walls collapsing.
Blows are what awaken us & help to break the dream. They show us the insufficiency of this world & make us long to escape, to have freedom.
I bomb atomically, Socrates' philosophies and hypotheses
Can't define how I be dropping these mockeries.
Lyrically perform armed robbery,
Flee with the lottery, possibly they spotted me ...
I'm not getting much penetration here!" Gibbs yelled.
"Aim for an open mouth!" Walsh barked. "It's their weakest point! When you empty the cartridge, load armour piercing rounds!"
Alan shouted, "For the record, I'm very uncomfortable firing ballistics inside a space ship!
Barrage balloons dotted the sky like blind whales bobbing around in the wrong element.
Doomed people celebrate peace with sky bombs.
It's a bomb. Just like you.
I want an explosion the size of Cleveland.