Discover the most popular and inspiring quotes and sayings on the topic of Dismember. 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 Dismember Quotes And Sayings by 94 Authors including Tahereh Mafi,Joe Biden,Jeff Buckley,Ann Leckie,Donna Schoenrock for you to enjoy and share.
Mortification. I'm draped in it. Painted in it. Buried in it.
I guess every single word I've ever said is going to be dissected now.
I want to be ripped apart by music ...
Sit up straight, Dlique. Don't dismember your sister, Dlique, it isn't nice. Internal organs belong inside your body, Dlique.
I may tear you apart but I'll put you back together.
What I love I destroy. What I destroy, I love.
I like deconstructing things. I like cutting the legs out from under something that feels secret.
death had just shred a tear
The M.E. dissected pieces of a corpse to tell a story, while Drayco tried to bring them back from the dead, jagged piece by jagged piece.
Strip me bare, peel me apart, layer by layer, steal my heart,
Burn me to ground, tear me in pieces, cut me in parts, but love me.
The science fiction method is dissection and reconstruction.
What I'd like is a lobotomy, a clean job, the top of my head neatly sawn off and designated contents removed.
She thinks of all that will have to be done to dismantle a life.
He suspended thinking; his mind was a bloody vacancy, like a room in which there has been a butchering.
Our meddling intellect Misshapes the beauteous forms of things We murder to dissect
I like to dissect girls. Did you know I'm utterly insane?
Person slaughtered: Me. Method used: Dimple. The guy has a dimple.
Emulation embalms the dead; envy, the vampire, blasts the living.
A crude puppet impaled by her puppet master.
Yep, she was a disastrophe. Pathetic.
Just kill me. My life is nothing without you. Drive me mad. Let me be your sustenance. Eat my soul. You're ... you're tearing me apart!
You cut up a thing that's alive and beautiful to find out how it's alive and why it's beautiful, and before you know it, it's neither of those things, and you're standing there with blood on your face and tears in your sight and only the terrible ache of guilt to show for it.
Creep, clobber, squawk. Repeat.
All too soon this body
Will lie on the ground,
Cast aside, deprived of consciousness,
Like a useless scrap of wood.
My New Obsession ... is YOUR DESTRUCTION!!
Sometimes you must destroy first
If the sword of oppression be permitted to lop off one limb without opposition, reiterated strokes will soon dismember the whole body.
To eat is to appropriate by destruction.
I have a lot of work to do today;
I need to slaughter memory,
Turn my living soul to stone
Then teach myself to live again.
There is nothing in the world more stubborn than a corpse: you can hit it, you can knock it to pieces, but you cannot convince it.
My mother," he said, "has invited us to a ball."
Elena pulled a blade from one of the butter-soft forearm sheaths that had been a gift from Raphael. "Excuse me while I stab myself in the eyes-and disembowel myself while I'm at it.
There are innumerable ways to murder a person, but the most subtle and pernicious of these is to mutilate the soul of the innocent by denying or downgrading their uniqueness and their beauty.
Pluck my heart
From my flesh
And eat it.....
But that was too simple: the idea of a man split into two by a dividing axe. Better: a man crushed into a hundred pieces of rubble, vainly trying to remember how they - he - had once fitted together. -
Cadavers' intestines hanging like a parade streamers off the sides of tables, skulls bobbing in boiling pots, organs strewn on the floor being eaten by dogs ...
Come . . . come to me. . . . Let me rip you. . . . Let me tear you. . . . Let me kill you. . . .
his head to be cut off
Killing rips the soul apart.
I want a sword to slit her end to end and then, with one hundred more cuts, dice her body into small pieces and leave the bloodied,quivering remains of skin, muscle, and soulless guts on her front lawn, arranged in a gruesome scarlet letter.
The destructive character knows only one watchword: make room; only one activity: clearing away ...
The destructive character is young and cheerful. For destroying rejuvenates in clearing away traces of our own age ...
I shall cut off her head and fill her mouth with garlic, and I shall drive a stake through her body.
To make yourself, it is also necessary to destroy yourself.
Most sacrilegious murder hath broke ope
Let's unleash Death upon this day.
Those who intend to destroy me, underestimate my ability to regenerate.
I release you. I evict you from my heart. Because if I don't do it now, I never will.
In the act of tearing something apart, you lose its meaning.
Her victim - of necessity she must put him away from her - he must be removed from her presence, from this world. She must destroy the evidence of her offense. What was
Recycle the body through fire; scatter the remains back into the earth.
Death like style is the removal of rubbish.
I will tear this folly from my heart, though every fibre bleed as I rend it away!
Now that, said the monster, is how destruction is properly done.
Masks beneath masks until suddenly the bare bloodless skull.
Drown'd, all drown'd,
In that great sea which nothing disembogues.
Dear, the man can't be eviscerated because he has no viscera. He's a walking colon. If you cut him open, you only end up covered in crap.
Let the dead bury the dead.
Break my heart. Break it in pieces. I give you my permission.
Endow the Living - with the Tears - You squander on the Dead.
Teach us the names of what we have destroyed.
Destruction is very satisfying
Bomb me, make me vaporise
Kill the head, the body will die.
This will be a new amputation. You've been a part of my flesh, underneath all my skin. Your removal will bleed and leave me lame for a time.
Disarm, disarm. The sword of murder is not the balance of justice. Blood does not wipe out dishonor, nor violence indicate possession.
I would like to explode, flow, crumble into dust, and my disintegration would be my masterpiece.
Does that body require disposal, sir?
What do you have in mind - inhumement, entombment, inurnment, interment? Some people lately just prefer in-sarcophogus-ment.
Kill my envy, command my tongue, trample down self. Give
It wasn't until I had performed by first autopsy that I realized that even the drabest human exteriors could contain the most beautiful viscera. After that, I would console myself for the plainness of my fellow bus-riders by dissecting them in my imagination.
Turn the key deftly in the oiled wards,
And seal the hushed Casket of my Soul.
hardly had my knife severed the head of each, before the whole body began to melt away and crumble into its native dust, as though the death that should have come centuries ago had at last assert himself and say at once and loud, "I am here!
I have butchered many men. All are innocent and equaled when they are on the table. All are exquisite and grotesque. -Dr. Spencer Black
I will not exorcise you - I'd miss your fragrance, the soft tread of your step on the stair
Undrape! you are not guilty to me, nor stale nor discarded,
I see through the broadcloth and gingham whether or no,
And am around, tenacious, acquisitive, tireless, and cannot be shaken away.
Quickly, say something unfeeling. Mock my letters. Threaten my beetles. Just do something, anything reprehensible.
Today I have so much to do: I must kill memory once and for all, I must turn my soul to stone, I must learn to live again Unless ... Summer's ardent rustling Is like a festival outside my window.
She whipped her tentacles away from his fingers decapitating the dead lobster-dog and its body fell from the ceiling fan.
Once upon a time, Dan had hated that body, smashed it, kicked it, beat it into a bleeding pulp, but now he wanted to crawl into it, or kill it and maim it, to possess it, eat, tear, destroy it and never leave it again.
Are you badly hurt?"
"Hideously," said the king, without sounding injured at all. "I am disemboweled. My insides may in an instant become my outsides as I stand here before you.
My organs are dead, my bones are cracked, my skin is a sieve, punctured by pins and needles of pain.
I'm a writer, so I like dissecting things.
Shatter all your fear.
What for do we nail down the dead?
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone, Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone. Silence the pianos and with muffled drum Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
I grew up in a hospital and as a child I played in the dissecting room
Wake up and smell the corpses.
Sweeping from butcher's stalls, dung, guts, and blood,
Drown'd puppies, stinking sprats, all drench'd in mud,
Dead cats, and turnip-tops, come tumbling down the flood.
I'll break you with my love and put you back together.
I need my skull in one piece. Crushing it would be like taking a wrecking ball to some secret museum before anyone ever got to see what's inside.
The nineteenth century lynching mob cuts off ears, toes, and fingers, strips off flesh, and distributes portions of the body as souvenirs among the crowd.
With destruction comes renovation.
We can know nothing till after this grave debate. The soul must withdraw, for this is not its hour. Now the knife must divide the flesh, and lay the ravage bare, and do its work completely.
What will break me into a million pieces so that I am beyond repair, beyond usefulness?
To waste! You are unknown and unwanted, save by me. This, because you are fairly adept at the various embalming arts and you occasionally compose a clever epitaph.
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Devouring Time and envious Age, all things yield to you; and with lingering death you destroy, step by step, with venomed tooth whatever you attack.
You ask me to plow the ground. Shall I take a knife and tear my mother's bosom? Then when I die she will not take me to her bosom to rest.
That is what deconstruction is made of: not the mixture but the tension between memory, fidelity, the preservation of something that has been given to us, and, at the same time, heterogeneity, something absolutely new, and a break.
I like to deconstruct things, deconstruct genres and stories.