Muzzle Quotes

#1. It is an astonishing thing that historians will look back and puzzle over, that in the 21st century, American women were such hunted creatures. Even as Republicans try to wrestle women into chastity belts, the Vatican is trying to muzzle American nuns. #Quote by Maureen Dowd

#2. I joined the army to learn how to kill my father. An irony; the only time the old man ever showed a glimmer of satisfaction with me was when I announced I was dropping out of college and enlisting. He thought I wanted to make the world safe for democracy, when in fact I wanted to make it safe from him. I intended to sign up under a false name. Become competent with a rifle. Then one night, while my father slept, I would sneak away from basic training, press the muzzle to his head - Harry Hines the failed and violent Pennsylvania farmer, Harry Hines the wife abuser and son beater, laying into me with his divining rods till my back was freckled with slivers of hazelwood - and blast him to Satan's backyard while he dreamed whatever dreams go through such a man's mind. #Quote by James K. Morrow

#3. I'd never touch you in any way other than to make you come." Ah, fuck. This man was going to need a muzzle. How was she going to keep her girl parts dry if he continued to remind her about making her wet? "You #Quote by Milly Taiden

#4. Alpha's muzzle curled in disbelief, but he went on watching Fiery intently. "Mad? In what way?" "Insane," Fiery told him. "Like a dog with the water-madness" - at this several Packmembers gasped and growled nervously - "but not that. His jaws foamed and he had fits, but he was in control. Very much in control. He rules his Pack with fear. #Quote by Erin Hunter

#5. Life ... had been defined as motion; man's life was purposeful motion; what was the state of a being to whom purpose and motion were denied, a being held in chains but left to breathe and to see all the magnificence of the possibilities he could have reached, left to scream "Why?" and to be shown the muzzle of a gun as sole explanation? #Quote by Ayn Rand

#6. The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes
The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes
Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening
Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains
Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys
Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap
And seeing that it was a soft October night
Curled once about the house, and fell asleep #Quote by T. S. Eliot

#7. As well have a talon as a finger, a muzzle as a mouth,
as well have a hollow as a heart. #Quote by Robert Hayden

#8. Finally, I sat up. "So, I suppose you should do something, wolfie. Hunt maybe?"
A grunt, the tone saying no.
"Run? Get some exercise?"
Another grunt, less decisive, more like a maybe.
He pushed to his feet, wobbly, still adjusting to his new center of gravity. He gingerly moved one fore paw, then the next, one rear paw, then the other. He picked up the pace, but still slow as he circled the clearing. A snort, like he'd figured it out, and broke into a lope, stumbled and plowed muzzle first into the undergrowth.
I stifled a laugh, but not very well, and he glowered at me.
"Forget running, a nice, leisurely stroll might be more your speed."
He snorted and turned fast. When I fell back, he gave a growling chuckle.
"Still cant resist throwing your weight around, can you? #Quote by Kelley Armstrong

#9. Your packmate?
Ren lowered his head. My second
I'm sorry. My father rested his muzzle on Ren's shoulder.
Ren whimpered softly, leaning into my father. #Quote by Andrea Cremer

#10. Muzzle the owner if the dog barks all night. #Quote by Marty Rubin

#11. Between the disfigurement and the muzzle, it's nearly impossible to catch what she's saying. Always, though, while tripping and stumbling to the music, she looks out into her audience and tells the story about her mother. Most people laugh and yell for her to lift her skirts, but every so often she'll spot someone weeping and swear they can understand her every word. #Quote by David Sedaris

#12. Prussia: freedom of movement with a muzzle. Austria: an isolation cell in which screaming is allowed. #Quote by Karl Kraus

#13. It has taken almost half my life away from Ireland for me to truly feel what home really is, and it is not what I was expecting. In the end it was not a place, or a past, or any sort of single, dazzling epiphany. It was all the little things. Cold butter spread thick on sweet wheaten bread or hot, subsiding potatoes; the scent of wet, black soil; a bushy spine of grass on a one-track road; wide iron gates leading to high beech corridors; the chalky smell of a cow's wet muzzle, and, most of all, in Seamus Heaney's words, the sound of rivers in the trees. #Quote by Trish Deseine

#14. She was only a few yards from the door. If she lunged, she could be safely inside with solid metal between her and the bear. But she had called to him, and he had come. The tranquilizer dart that she had shot on the sea ice now lay in front of her. Impossibly, inexplicably, the bear had brought it back to her. She felt light-headed, and she knew she was shaking. She raised her eyes to look at the bear.
He was a mass of shadows at the edge of the station floodlights. She could make out the shape of his muzzle and the hunch of his shoulders. "Cassandra Dasent," he said. His voice was a soft rumble.
She felt as if her heart had stopped beating. #Quote by Sarah Beth Durst

#15. Fleetfoot turned to look up at Celaena, her golden eyes full of question. Celaena reached down to stroke the warm head, the long ears, the slender muzzle. But the question remained. Celaena said, "She's never coming back." The dog kept waiting. #Quote by Sarah J. Maas

#16. You can sail in the desert with a ship of fools. You can smuggle in Moses and his book of rules. But you can't take a mother and give her back her son. What kind of freedom is bought with a gun? People like to build their prison walls when they're afraid to look inside ... a thousand points of light are the muzzle flashes in the night. And the freedoms you profess to hold won't bring the dead back from the cold. #Quote by Bruce Dickinson

#17. Ben rubbed his muzzle over Kyle's shoulder in a way that I think was supposed to be reassuring. Kyle sucked in a breath. Either it hurt, or the reminder that the werewolf was big enough to rub his shoulder without much effort wasn't exactly reassuring.
"Ben, when was the last time you brushed your teeth?" asked Kyle.
Or else Ben's breath was really bad. #Quote by Patricia Briggs

#18. How could I not fall in love with him," she asked. And on the tail end of her words, her bedroom door flew open and closed just as fast.

Jen bent over, panting heavily as she looked up at Sally.

"Hey Sally girl. Who we falling in love with?" Jen asked breathlessly.

"Jen, what's wrong?" Sally paused and then decided on a better question. "What have you done now?"

Jen stood up and took two deep breaths. Seeming to have regained her wind, she spoke quickly.

"First off, I've changed my mind. I don't want you to name your first born after me."

Sally interrupted. "Thank goodness for that," she muttered.

"I want you to name your entire freaking litter after me," Jen growled. "Do you know what I've been through?" Jen's arms were flinging around as she glared at Sally. "I did that little strip tease to try and keep things from escalating with the rest of the pack and Decebel was beyond pissed. I had to sneak out of the gathering room and make a run for it. I've been running through the freaking forest trying to throw him off by changing back and forth so that I could place my clothes that I carried in my freaking muzzle. CARRIED IN MY MUZZLE SALLY! I put them in different places to throw off him off my scent." Jen went over to Sally's window and was trying to judge the danger of using it as an exit. #Quote by Quinn Loftis

#19. For Blitz, meanwhile, an almost tragic dilemma had begun. As time passed, he and Giuseppe understood each other better and better, conversing and playing together on the floor with immense amusement, and so he found himself madly in love also with Giuseppe, as well as Nino. But Nino was always out, and Giuseppe always at home: thus it was impossible for him to live constantly in the company of both his loves, as he would have wished. And in consequence, with either one, he was always tortured by regret: and if he was with one, the mere mention of the others name or a smell that recalled him was enough for his homesickness to stream behind him, like a banner against the wind. At times, while he was on sentry duty outside Ninos school, suddenly, as if at a message brought him by a cloud, he would begin to sniff the sky with a mournful whimper, recalling the incarcerated Giuseppe. For a few minutes, a dissension would rend him, drawing him in two opposite directions at the same time; but finally, having overcome his hesitation, he would dash toward the San Lorenzo house, his long nose cleaving the wind like a prow. But at his destination, unfortunately, he found the door barred; and all his cries, mortified by the muzzle, passionately calling for Giuseppe, were in vain; for Giuseppe, though hearing him and suffering in his solitary room, longing to let him in, was unable to do so. Then, resigning himself to his destiny of waiting outside doors, Blitz would stretch out there on t #Quote by Elsa Morante

#20. When her muzzle grew more white than brown, the chipmunk forgot that she and the squirrel had had nothing to talk about. She forgot the definition of "jazz" as well and came to think of it as every beautiful thing she had ever failed to appreciate: the taste of warm rain; the smell of a baby; the din of a swollen river, rushing past her tree and onward to infinity. #Quote by David Sedaris

#21. Don't blame me, Pongo,' said Lord Ickenham, 'if Lady Constance takes her lorgnette to you. God bless my soul, though, you can't compare the lorgnettes of to-day with the ones I used to know as a boy. I remember walking one day in Grosvenor Square with my aunt Brenda and her pug dog Jabberwocky, and a policeman came up and said the latter ought to be wearing a muzzle. My aunt made no verbal reply. She merely whipped her lorgnette from its holster and looked at the man, who gave one choking gasp and fell back against the railings, without a mark on him but with an awful look of horror in his staring eyes, as if he had seen some dreadful sight. A doctor was sent for, and they managed to bring him round, but he was never the same again. He had to leave the Force, and eventually drifted into the grocery business. And that is how Sir Thomas Lipton got his start. #Quote by P.G. Wodehouse

#22. Kushner slipped up behind the vehicle. With the speed of a weasel, he pressed the muzzle of his revolver against the rear window and pulled the trigger. The bullet crashed into Kid Dropper's brain. #Quote by Norvell W. Page

#23. Wolf's fur was speckled with drops of blood that had beaded on it like rain. The gravel in the alley shone in the half-light from the distant street lamps. The wolf's muzzle, a little shorter and broader than I had seen on Wild Kingdom, was drawn back, black lips from fangs striped white and red like peppermints. Its eyes were blue, rather than any proper lupine shade, and gleamed with a sort of demented awareness. #Quote by Jim Butcher

#24. Sunsets are loved because they vanish.
Flowers are loved because they go.
The dogs of the field and the cats of the kitchen are loved because soon they must depart.
These are not the sole reasons, but at the heart of morning welcomes and afternoon laughters is the promise of farewell. In the gray muzzle of an old dog we see goodbye. In the tired face of an old friend we read long journeys beyond returns. #Quote by Ray Bradbury

#25. ... a wolf creature with yellow fur and black stripes. It were about the size of a real
large dog. I can remember it to this day, cos it were the first one I had ever seen.
It had a long muzzle and stripes on its sides like a tiger. The tail were thick and
the fur so fine and smooth it were like it didn't have hair. It's like a wolf, I heard
me mother say and indeed it looked like those wolves I seen in me fairytale books.
It stared at us with huge black eyes, then it opened its jaw real slow til I thought it
could swallow a baby. I'll go bail if it were not the most bonny, handsomest thing I
ever seen.. #Quote by Louis Nowra

#26. In my dreams a small wolf slept inside of me and it wasn't comfortable. It moved it's heels and elbows and paws, struggled to make space between my lungs, stomach, bladder. Occasionally a scrabbling claw punctured something and I woke. What were you dreaming? Arabella wanted to know. I knew what it was dreaming. It was dreaming of being born. The form and scale of its occupancy shifted. Sometimes its legs were in my legs, its head in my head, its paws in my hands. Other times it was barely the size of a kitten, heartburn hot and fidgety under my sternum. I'd wake and for a moment feel my face changed, reach up and touch the muzzle that wasn't there. #Quote by Glen Duncan

#27. Cinema captures the sound of speech close up and makes us hear in their materiality, their sensuality, the breath, the gutturals, the fleshiness of the lips, a whole presence of the human muzzle (that the voice, that writing, be as fresh, supple, lubricated, delicately granular and vibrant as an animal's muzzle), to succeed in shifting the signified a great distance and in throwing, so to speak, the anonymous body of the actor into my ear: it granulates, it crackles, it caresses, it grates, it cuts, it comes: that is bliss. #Quote by Roland Barthes

#28. So that's a fox?' Firepaw whispered. 'What an ugly muzzle!'
'You can say that again!' agreed Graypaw.
'I was following one of those when we first . . . met,' whispered Firepaw.
'More likely it was following you, you idiot!' hissed Graypaw. #Quote by Erin Hunter

#29. [Fireheart] was interrupted by a screech from Cloudtail. "Fireheart! Fireheart, Brightpaw isn't dead!"
Fireheart spun around and raced across the clearing to crouch beside Brightpaw. Her white-and-ginger fur, which, she had always kept so neatly groomed, was spiky with drying blood. On one side of her face the fur was torn away, and there was blood where her eye should have been. One ear had been shredded, and there were huge claw marks scored across her muzzle. #Quote by Erin Hunter

#30. I turned to Ren, dropping my head low to honor the fallen alpha. The circled wolves did the same. I lifted my muzzle first, my howl singing out the pain of Ren's death, mourning him. One by one my packmates joined the song. Our howls filled the library, spilling into the winter night. The death song grew as the wolves still outside raised their voices to honor the lost young warrior. The chorus of wolf cries, full of heartache, swelled in the night, carrying Ren's memory to the very stars. #Quote by Andrea Cremer

#31. You got a vicious animal inside you. It wants to snap, it wants to attack, but it's harmless because some woman fitted a muzzle on it. Now, how do you imagine it feels about that muzzle? How do you think it will regard the woman the moment that muzzle is off, and she is within biting distance? #Quote by Thomm Quackenbush

#32. My head is so full of memories!" Cinderheart wailed. "I feel as though there are two lives inside me, not one. How can it be my choice to make? Doesn't Cinderpelt have a choice? I can't make her a warrior! She was a medicine cat!"
Lionblaze pressed his muzzle closer. "She chose you", he murmured. "She gave you the choice".
Cinderheart began to tremble. Lionblaze could sense her mind whirling. "You can only live one life, Cinderheart. It's your choice! This is your destiny, not Cinderpelt's. She lived her own life".
Cinderheart gasped. Then her pelt smoothed. She lifted her chin. "Then I choose the life of a warrior". Her blue eyes shone. "And I choose you".
A breeze stirred the ferns. Lionblaze glimpsed a pale gray shape appear like a shadow beside Cinderheart. Stepping back in surprise, he saw it peel away from her and drift up like a cobweb carried by the wind. A soft voice whispered, Thank you.
Lionblaze's fur stood on end. "Did you see that?
Cinderheart was watching the shadow disappear into the trees. "It was Cinderpelt", she breathed. "I've set her free".
Lionblaze purred loudly. "Will you fight alongside me?"
Cinderheart pressed her muzzle fiercely against his. "Always". #Quote by Erin Hunter

#33. Murderers - serving life sentences - were caring for their dying fellow inmates. Washing their bed-sore covered bodies, changing their diapers, holding their hands while they took their last breath. It was the other side of death, not the one at the end of a sudden muzzle flash, but the slow and wrenching kind, leaving plenty of time for hard reflection. #Quote by Lisa R. Cohen

#34. Most merciful God, accept these two poor sinners into your arms. And keep the doors ajar for
the coming of the rest of us, because you are witnessing the end, the absolute, irrevocable, fantastic
end. I've finally realized what is happening. It is our last fling. We are doomed henceforth. Must
screw our courage to the sticking point and face up to our impending fate. We [255] shall be all of us
shot at dawn. One hundred cc's apiece. Miss Ratched shall line us all against the wall, where we,,,
face the terrible maw of a muzzle-loading shotgun which she has loaded with Miltowns! Thorazines!
Libriums! Stelazines! And with a wave of her sword, blooie! Tranquilize all of us completely out of
existence. #Quote by Ken Kesey

#35. Goosefeather appeared from the gorse tunnel and padded straight to his den. He didn't even stop to ask how Leopardfoot was. Bluefur pressed back the urge to rake his muzzle with her claws. He's supposed to be the Clan medicine cat, for StarClan's sake! #Quote by Erin Hunter

#36. Death was a rodent that ate its way inch by inch through your entrails, chewed at your liver and stomach, severed tendon from organ, until finally, when you were along in the dark, it sat gorged and sleek next to your head, its eyes resting, its wet muzzle like a kiss, a promise whispered in your ear. #Quote by James Lee Burke

#37. Attempts to thwart or muzzle the media continued as well. At a conservative caucus meeting in Charlottetown in August 2007, journalists assembled in the lobby of the hotel, as they usually do at such gatherings, to talk to caucus members as they passed by. The [Prime Minister's Office] communications team, however, was not prepared to allow it. Taking their cue, or so it appeared, from a police state, they had the RCMP remove the reporters from the hotel. #Quote by Lawrence Martin

#38. Double-knotted to a bedpost, not that it's any of your business. That boy was always too trusting for his own good. You'd think by now he'd know better. But no. He's got to be stupid. Personally, I'd tie the bitch up, muzzle her, and ride her around the room with spurs on, but no one ever asks my opinion, do they? No. What do I know? I'm only omniscient. (Savitar) #Quote by Sherrilyn Kenyon

#39. This is the Sandman,' Francisco said. 'Its non-lethal mode is derived from the same technology as the Sleeper guns that you're already familiar with, but with far greater range and accuracy.' He pressed a button just above the rifle's trigger guard and a glowing, blue holographic sight appeared in the air above the weapon. 'This targeting array will identify and track multiple targets through heat signature, electromagnetic emissions or movement. It's also capable of up to twelve times' magnification for long-range sniping. If it should prove necessary the weapon can also be switched to lethal mode which fires magnetically accelerated microslugs, which have the stopping power of a bullet but are much lower in mass, giving it greatly increased ammo capacity. Each clip holds two hundred and fifty rounds, allowing for sustained rapid fire if necessary. The Sandman fires almost silently, with no muzzle flash and without the need for a suppressor, making it an ideal stealth weapon. It also has a full thermoptic camouflage coating tied into the system on board your ISIS armour. You have ten minutes to fire the weapon on the range in order to better familiarise yourself with it. Any questions?'

'Are they going to be in the shops in time for Christmas?' Shelby asked. #Quote by Mark Walden

#40. It had butterfly wings, like flakes of patterned wax. Under the wings it had a hairy body with tiny horns. Its fur looked very dry in the hot summer rays. It had an ox's head, no bigger than her thumbnail, with a pink muzzle drawn into a grimace. A white splodge between its nostrils. The impossible detail of a scar on its bottom lip. There was warmth and a heartbeat in its body like that of a newborn chick. #Quote by Ali Shaw

#41. The single word that counted on Wednesday was the one that came from the muzzle of a gun, addressed to somebody on their knees. Better to choose our hour than to accept this. We know each other. We've known each other from the time of Crocodilopolis. [Letter unsent] #Quote by John Berger

#42. Fifty yards away. The muzzle velocity of a M16 is 3,100 feet per second. Three feet in a yard, which means he has two-thirds of a second left on Earth. #Quote by Rick Yancey

#43. Muzzle a dog and he will bark out of the other end. #Quote by Malcolm Lowry

#44. You see, Lady Celia?" he said in his harsh rasp. "A man can do anything he wants if he has a woman alone."
Her pleasure died instantly. Had this just been about teaching her a lesson?
Anger roared up in her. How dare he? Remembering the pistol, she shoved it up under his chin and cocked the hammer. "And if he does, the woman has a right to defend herself. Don't you agree?"
The surprise on his face was immensely gratifying, but it didn't last long. Eyes narrowing, he leaned closer to hiss, "Go ahead then. Fire."
She swallowed. Though there was no ball, the powder alone would do serious damage. She could never...
While she hesitated, he removed the pistol from her numb fingers. His glittering gaze bore into her. "Never brandish a gun unless you're prepared to use it."
She crossed her arms over her chest, feeling suddenly exposed. "Most men would be cowed by the very sight of a pistol," she muttered.
"I wasn't."
"You're not most men," she said tightly.
He acknowledged that with a curt nod. Then he walked over to one of the pots, aimed down at the dirt, and fired. When the smoke cleared from the muzzle flash, he noted the lack of a hole in the dirt and faced her.
"Powder." He glared at her. "Did it occur to you that unless you fired at point-blank range, you might merely anger the man you're aiming for?"
"I only need it for men who get close to me," she bit out.
"All the same, the next time you need to protect yourself, #Quote by Sabrina Jeffries

#45. True leadership will not be measured by the ability to muzzle dissent, or to intimidate and harass political opponents at home. The people of the world want change. They will not long tolerate those who are on the wrong side of history. #Quote by Barack Obama

#46. In the deserted forest, Firestar crouched beside Spottedleaf's trembling body. Blood welled at her neck, soaking Firestar's cheek as he pressed against her. "Spottedleaf! Please don't go". Dovewing heard a sob in his mew. "You promised you'd be there to welcome me".
Spottedleaf gave a tiny shake of her head. "That was never going to happen my love. I cannot journey with you anymore. I'm so sorry".
Firestar pawed at her. "No! I still need you!"
"Let her go" A she-cat shimmered into view, her gray fur long and matted.
"Yellowfang?" Firestar looked at her, his green eyes pleading. "Don't let her disappear. Please."
"This was her destiny." Yellowfang touched her muzzle to Firestar's head. "Let her follow it."
"But she said she'd wait for me in StarClan!" Firestar's mew caught in his throat.
Spottedleaf looked up at him and opened her mouth as if she wanted to say something. A small gasp escaped her; then she fell limp. Her fur started to blur, leaving a faint outline and then nothing but bloodstained grass. Firestar's head drooped. #Quote by Erin Hunter

#47. How long he stood he did not know, but there was a foolish and yet delicious sense of knowing himself as an animal come from the forest, drawn by the fire. He was a thing of brush and liquid eye, of fur and muzzle and hoof, he was a thing of horn and blood that would smell like autumn if you bled it out on the ground. He stood a long time, listening to the warm crackle of the flames. #Quote by Ray Bradbury

#48. Send it and end it, kid."
Court would fire, sending a boat-tail round across fields and lakes, over cabins and farms, and, more often than not, much more often than not, he'd hit his target, thereby ending the "threat."
He'd send it, and he'd end it.
He thought back to those days, the fundamentals of the craft, and he fought again to remain calm. He forced himself not to feel any emotion at all. Any increase in heart rate, fluctuation in breathing, new sweating on his skin that could cause reflex muscle contractions. Anything different with his body at the moment he fired would affect his shot. It could send the round out of the barrel one hundredth of an inch from where he wanted the muzzle positioned for firing, but translated out across 1.81 miles, the round would end up several feet off target. #Quote by Mark Greaney

#49. I must have roamed dementedly about for a time in the streets. When I at last got back to my own place, Faustine was again there ahead of me, coiled torpid in the bed like a loathsome boa-constrictor. She was already in the never-never land where ghouls like her belonged. I covered her face with one of the pillows, pressed down upon it with the weight of my whole body, held it there until she should have been dead ten times over. Yet when I removed the pillow to look, the black of strangulation was missing from her face. She was still in that state of suspended animation that defied me, a taunting smile visible about her lips.

I had a gun in my valise, from years before when I'd been on an engineering job in the jungles of Ecuador. I got it out, looked it over. It was still in good working order, although it only had one bullet left in it. That one would be enough. She wasn't going to escape me! I pressed the muzzle to her smooth white forehead, mid-center. "Die, damn you!" I growled, and pulled the trigger back. It exploded with a crash. A film of smoke hid her face from me for a minute. When it had cleared again, I looked.

There was no bullet-hole in her skull!

A black powder-smudge marked the point of contact. The gun dropped to the floor with a thud. That ineradicable smile still glimmered up at me, as if to say: "You see? You can't." I rubbed my finger over the black; the skin was unbroken underneath. A blank cartridge, that must have be #Quote by Cornell Woolrich

#50. A huge fireplace and Dutch oven of fieldstone filled one wall. Over them hung a long muzzle-loading rifle, powder horn, and bullet pouch. On the mantel were candle molds, a coffee mill, an iron and trivet, and a rusty kettle. An iron cauldron, big enough to boil a missionary in, swung at the end of a long arm in the fireplace, and below it, like so many black offspring, were a cluster of small pots. A wooden butter churn held the door open, and clusters of Indian corn hung from the molding at aesthetic intervals. A colonial scythe stood in one corner, and two Boston rockers on a hooked rug faced the cold fireplace, where the unwatched pot never boiled. Paul #Quote by Kurt Vonnegut Jr.

#51. It is the Soviet Union that runs against the tide of history ... [It is] the march of freedom and democracy which will leave Marxism-Leninism on the ash heap of history, as it has left other tyrannies which stifle the freedom and muzzle the self-expression of the people. #Quote by Ronald Reagan

#52. Then I put the hot barrel beneath my chin.

"No." Zoeller lurched toward me, eyes wide. "No, Laney."

I curled my finger around the trigger and he froze. I could see his white sclera. I'd never seen him frightened. I was only half-serious but his fear made it feel suddenly real.

"Don't," he said.

"This is all I want. It's all I can think about."

"It's defeat. You're too strong for this."

"No I'm not." I laughed, the muzzle digging into the soft meat beneath my jaw. "I'm weak, like you said."

"You're better than me. I'm broken, Laney. I'm a sociopath."

"If you're a sociopath, you can't feel compassion. You don't care whether I live or die."

"I do. I need you. I've never met anyone like you."

I rolled my eyes. "Spare me the suicide hotline bullshit. I've heard it all before. You know what the definition of insanity is? Doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. Well, I'm sick of this. Things are going to change."

"Don't leave me," he said.

The parallel of my words to Dad startled me. That gleam in his eyes wasn't madness. It was tears.

Was this really happening?

Look at every terrible thing he's done to me.

Look at every good thing he didn't have to do, but did. #Quote by Leah Raeder

#53. The habits of Franciscan nuns still shrouded all but their faces, and so each of the new nun's features were emphasized, read forty times over in astonishment. Outlined in a stiff white frame of starched linen, Sister's eyes, nose, and mouth leapt out, a mask from a dream, a great raw-boned jackal's muzzle. #Quote by Louise Erdrich

#54. The Marquess screamed. All this time, she had been small and cowering, nothing like herself, a shadow of a shadow. But when Nod sunk his squarish teeth into her dark skin, she screamed and hissed - and then suddenly stood. She stared at the creature clamping down on her wrist. He shook his muzzle to get a better grip on her. Her spine straightened, and September saw her face settle into its old self, a face used to power, to getting her way, and never balking at any single thing.

"How dare you," the Marquess snarled. "How dare you put your teeth on me?" She clamped her hand down on his snout and tore him free of her flesh. Shadow-blood welled up and fell. The tip of his elephant-like nose stretched far longer than September would have thought possible. It sought and found her wound as she held him fast. She threw him aside like a doll; his weight shattered a crate stamped with Pluto's Fancy Mushrooms. Dark soil spilled out. The Marquess reached down and opened the shadow of the box, her eyes blazing. She opened it as herself, as the Marquess in all her fury and beauty and terror. #Quote by Catherynne M. Valente

#55. I know I'm the one who put limits on this ... this thing," she said, and bit her lower lip, suddenly nervous. "But I'm pretty sure we're not quite done with each other."
He looked at her for what felt like a long time. "You want another night."
Still unable to take her eyes off his mouth, she didn't muzzle herself. "I want as long as it takes."
He cupped her jaw, lifting her head up so that she was looking into his eyes again. "Don't make promises you can't keep."
"What makes you think I can't keep it?"
"Because you seem to like things one night at a time," he said in that low, sexy voice. "But no way is one more night going to be enough. #Quote by Jill Shalvis

#56. Many people come into company full of what they intend to say in it themselves, without the least regard to others; and thus charged up to the muzzle are resolved to let it off at any rate. #Quote by Lord Chesterfield

#57. Shut your gob, You tell me nothing in my kennel. Here, I am Queen Bitch, and you will muzzle yourself. Kebibi Ahuda to prisoner #Quote by Tamora Pierce

#58. Bree grit her teeth and lunged for him but Brian held her back and Will spoke up instead. "You go away!" Will cried back angrily. "I know you did sumting dat made my mommy mad at my daddy. Is you fault!" "I suggest you put a muzzle on your brat and get back in the living room," Bernardo ordered. "Careful, Father. This is none of your concern," Alessandro said. "Are you kidding me?" Bree asked. "Of course this is his concern because he's the only one you give a damn about. You'll do anything for him. Absolutely anything even if it means betraying me or Will or God forbid Gianni." "That is not true. I would never - " "It is true!" Bree yelled. "Everything you've done has proven that." "Look, every marriage has problems and that is no reason to turn back on the vows you made to each other," Bernardo pointed out. "You made a promise to honor the terms of the O'Reiley/Dardano vendetta. Be careful before you renege on those vows, Mrs. Dardano." "You and your stupid vendetta!" Bree hissed. "Begun by a man who couldn't handle the fact that he couldn't have what he wanted! God it must be genetic. Well, I guess I shouldn't blame you, Alessandro. Knowing Bernardo and Adriano, at least you come by it honestly. #Quote by E. Jamie

#59. Big Brown Moose

I'm a big brown moose,
I'm a rascally moose,
I'm a moose with a tough, shaggy hide;
and I kick and I prance
in a long-legged dance
with my moose-mama close by my side.

I shrug off the cold
and I sneeze at the wind
and I swivel my ears in the snow;
and I tramp and I tromp
over forest and swamp,
'cause there's nowhere a moose cannot go.

I'm a big brown moose,
I'm a ravenous moose
as I hunt for the willow and yew;
with a snort and a crunch,
I rip off each bunch,
and I chew and I chew and I chew.

When together we slump
in a comfortable clump --
my mountainous mama and I --
I give her a nuzzle
of velvety muzzle.
Our frosty breath drifts to the sky.

I'm a big brown moose,
I'm a slumberous moose,
I'm a moose with a warm, snuggly hide;
and I bask in the moon
as the coyotes croon,
with my moose-mama close by my side. #Quote by Joyce Sidman

#60. Now standing in one corner of a boxing ring with a .22 caliber Colt automatic pistol, shooting a bullet weighing only 40 grains and with a striking energy of 51 foot pounds at 25 feet from the muzzle, I will guarantee to kill either Gene Tunney or Joe Louis before they get to me from the opposite corner. This is the smallest caliber pistol cartridge made; but it is also one of the most accurate and easy to hit with, since the pistol has no recoil. I have killed many horses with it, cripples and bear baits, with a single shot, and what will kill a horse will kill a man. I have hit six dueling silhouettes in the head with it at regulation distance in five seconds. It was this type of pistol that Millen boys' colleague, Abe Faber, did all his killings with. Yet this same pistol bullet fired at point blank range will not dent a grizzly's skull, and to shoot a grizzly with a .22 caliber pistol would simply be one way of committing suicide #Quote by Ernest Hemingway,

#61. There were no milestones in the Copper Country. Often a traveler could only measure the progress of a journey by the time it took to get from each spoiled or broken thing to the next: a half-day's walk from a dry well to the muzzle of a cannon poking out of a sand-slope, two hours to reach the skeletons of a man and a mule. The land was losing its battle with time. Ancient and exhausted, it visited decrepitude on everything within its bounds, as though out of spleen. #Quote by K.J. Bishop

#62. she must, Anna thought, need to sleep with some kind of pads over them to keep her eyeballs moist. Whatever nose had once sat in the middle of her face had melted into a small, pug-like muzzle, while oversized cheek implants added an almost whimsical touch of chipmunk. Lips too lush for even a twenty-year-old were the finishing touch, ballooning out from her face, turning up at the ends, and making a normal chin look weak and recessive atop a tight, corded neck. The Joker, Anna thought. The thick curls of a platinum wig tumbled about this hodgepodge of readjusted features, undoubtedly hiding a hairline a good five #Quote by Suzanne Munshower

#63. I'll shoot," she murmured against his rock-solid pecs, burrowing the muzzle of her Glock into his abdomen.
"Go ahead, sweetheart. Add it to the tally for the night. It'll sting like a bitch, but I guarantee it won't kill me. #Quote by Zoe Forward

#64. A lesson learned at the muzzle has the virtue of never being forgotten. #Quote by George Horace Lorimer

#65. Tad blinked, then coughed out a robust laugh. "Oh my God, dude. Where's Max? You need a fucking muzzle. #Quote by Kora Knight

#66. I chuckled. "Yeah, okay." He relaxed, sinking back in his chair, mirroring my smile. "But you know the old saying," I told him. His brow furrowed. "What old saying?" "Two people can keep a secret," I said, "if one of them is dead." He barely had time for the shock to register on his face as I grabbed his wrist and yanked up his right hand. I pressed the muzzle to his temple and his hand to the barrel. "No," he gasped, just before I pulled the trigger and painted his desk cherry red. #Quote by Craig Schaefer

#67. Why hello!" she said, and the dog jumped and pressed its front paws against her knees, then actually licked her with a dry, paper tongue. Ceony laughed and scratched behind its ears. It panted with excitement. "Wherever did you come from?"
The door squeaked again, announcing Mg. Thane's arrival. He looked a little tired, but no worse for wear, and still wore that long indigo coat. "This one won't give me hives," he said with a smile that beamed in his eyes. "It's not the same, but I thought it would do, for now."
Wide-eyed, Ceony slowly stood, the paper dog yapping in its whispery voice and nudging her ankles with its muzzle. "You made this?" she asked, feeling her ribs knit over her lungs. "This . . . this is what you were doing last night?"
He scratched the back of his head. "Were you up? I apologize - I'm not used to having others in the house again. #Quote by Charlie N. Holmberg

#68. That could have happened, really, it could have, if he hadn't shoved his muzzle into her crotch. Her breath swooshed out of her as she stood there in shock. He. Was. Sniffing. Her. Pussy. And she didn't know what to do. #Quote by Milly Taiden

#69. She's the queen of the herd."
"May I touch her?"
"If she'll let you. She doesn't take to strangers well."
I took a hesitant step forward and reached out my hand. Terror approached me with confidence, then ducked her muzzle beneath my palm. Once she came closer, for a moment, I feared she was going to trample me. But then she brushed gently against my side.
"She wants you to ride her." Jockey looked at me. "This is an honor."
All thoughts of bailing out quietly went to hell with that statement. Why not? How often did you get a chance to ride a Night Mare? #Quote by Donna Augustine

#70. I don't speak out because I am an actor nor will I keep silent because I am an actor. I respect my profession, but it endows me with no special privileges; but it also does not limit me or muzzle me. I am a person and a citizen with the attendant responsibilities of voice and vote. #Quote by Theodore Bikel

#71. She tried to push away that memory. Her brave winged friend, dying from poison, his muzzle in her lap, looking at her trustingly as she raised her dagger to end his misery ... Gods, #Quote by Rick Riordan

#72. It's a good weapon, bolt actioned. It's really just a modern-day version of the basic Remington 700," said Steven. "Let's pay attention to see if it's outfitted with a suppressor or a muzzle brake. Both of those attachments reduce recoil by about half, which will affect our second shot if we miss on the first go-around. There #Quote by Bobby Akart

#73. Savitar stroked his chin. "Interesting, isn't it? What do you have to say about that, Fury?"
The muzzle vanished. "They're on crack."
Savitar shook his head. "Anyone else on crack? #Quote by Sherrilyn Kenyon

#74. So long as men live together on earth and need means to deal with one another - their only substitute, if they abandon money, is the muzzle of a gun. #Quote by Ayn Rand

#75. I am learning to abandon the world
before it can abandon me.
Already I have given up the moon
and snow, closing my shades
against the claims of white.
And the world has taken
my father, my friends.
I have given up melodic lines of hills,
moving to a flat, tuneless landscape.
And every night I give my body up
limb by limb, working upwards
across bone, towards the heart.
But morning comes with small
reprieves of coffee and birdsong.
A tree outside the window
which was simply shadow moments ago
takes back its branches twig
by leafy twig.
And as I take my body back
the sun lays its warm muzzle on my lap
as if to make amends. #Quote by Linda Pastan

#76. The night had fallen. I had let my tools drop from my hands. Of what moment now was my hammer, my bolt, or thirst, or death? On one star, one planet, my planet, the Earth, there was a little prince to be comforted. I took him in my arms, and rocked him. I said to him:
"The flower that you love is not in danger. I will draw you a muzzle for your sheep. I will draw you a railing to put around your flower. I will
"
I did not know what to say to him. I felt awkward and blundering. I did not know how I could reach him, where I could overtake him and go on hand in hand with him once more.
It is such a secret place, the land of tears. #Quote by Antoine De Saint Exupery

#77. The young man could stand it no more.
What is this? I've been ambushed by a night patrol
in full daylight! Your blitherings try to keep me
from the presence of a holy man,
but I know what light led me here, the same
that turned the golden calf into words in a sacred story.
A saint is a theater where the qualities of God can be seen.
Don't try to keep me out. Puff on this candle, and your face will get burned! Rather try blowing out the sun, or fitting a muzzle on the sea!
Old bats like you dream that their cave-dark
is everywhere, but it's not. #Quote by Rumi

#78. What passed in the mind of this man at the supreme moment of his agony cannot be told in words. He was still comparatively young, he was surrounded by the loving care of a devoted family, but he had convinced himself by a course of reasoning, illogical perhaps, yet certainly plausible, that he must separate himself from all he held dear in the world, even life itself. To form the slightest idea of his feelings, one must have seen his face with its expression of enforced resignation and its tear-moistened eyes raised to heaven. The minute hand moved on. The pistols were loaded; he stretched forth his hand, took one up, and murmured his daughter's name. Then he laid it down seized his pen, and wrote a few words. It seemed to him as if he had not taken a sufficient farewell of his beloved daughter. Then he turned again to the clock, counting time now not by minutes, but by seconds. He took up the deadly weapon again, his lips parted and his eyes fixed on the clock, and then shuddered at the click of the trigger as he cocked the pistol. At this moment of mortal anguish the cold sweat came forth upon his brow, a pang stronger than death clutched at his heart-strings. He heard the door of the staircase creak on its hinges - the clock gave its warning to strike eleven - the door of his study opened; Morrel did not turn round - he expected these words of Cocles, "The agent of Thomson & French."

He placed the muzzle of the pistol between his teeth. Suddenly he heard a c #Quote by Alexandre Dumas

#79. Harland could see the dark yawn of eternity in the muzzle of Lancaster's .45. #Quote by H.A. DeRosso

#80. What did I care about my hammer, about my bolt, about thirst or death? There was, on one star, on one planet, on mine, the Earth, a little prince to be consoled! I took him in my arms. I rocked him. I told him, 'The flower you love is not in danger ... I'll draw you a muzzle for your sheep ... I'll draw you a fence for your flower ... I' I didn't know what to say. How clumsy I felt! I didn't know how to reach him, where to find him ... It's so mysterious, the land of tears. #Quote by Antoine De Saint Exupery

#81. Proper circus you make,' Berkley said, with a snort of laughter Laurence considered unnecessary, when they landed in the clearing and set the dog down; it promptly went tearing around the parade ground yelling at the dragons. For their part they were only interested and curious until the dog bit a too-inquisitive Dulcia on the tender nip of her muzzle, at which she hissed in anger; the dog yelped and fled back to the dubious shelter of Temeraire's side; he looked down at it in irritation and tried unsuccessfully to nudge it away.
'Pray be careful of the creature; I have no idea how we should get or train another,' Laurence said, and Temeraire at last grumbling allowed it to curl up beside him. #Quote by Naomi Novik

#82. Ivypool backed away. She twisted and ducked under him as he leaped, but his claws sank into her tail and pinned her to the ground. Thistleclaw and Snowtuft attacked from opposite sides, snarling, slicing her ears. She struggled away from them, crashing into hard muscle. Hawkfrost was behind her now. He stabbed his claws into her shoulders. With a gasp, Ivypool saw his teeth flashing beside her throat. Then a black pelt flashed over the top of the gorse. Paws landed with a thump beside her.
"Get off her!" Hollyleaf yowled.
Ivypool's world spun as the black warrior slammed into Hawkfrost and sent him reeling into the gorse. Free from Hawkfrost's claws, Ivypool turned on Thistleclaw and Snowtuft. She began slashing with her front paws, remembering in a crystalline moment every moon of training. Hollyleaf reared up beside her, matching her blow for blow, as though she instinctively knew where Ivypool would strike next. Blood sprayed the forest floor as Ivypool sliced Snowtuft's muzzle and tore Thistleclaw's nose. Turning she kicked with hind legs and knocked Thistleclaw backward, then sank her teeth into Snowtuft's neck.
The white warrior screeched and ripped free from her jaws. Ivypool tasted his blood as he hared away through the bracken. She met Thistleclaw's gaze. Fear sparked in his eyes as she spat out a bloody clump of Snowtuft's fur.
"Run," she hissed. "Because if you stay, I will kill you".
Mouth open, Thistleclaw fled, disappearing through the #Quote by Erin Hunter

#83. I'll find out who's inside. Wait here and keep alert!' Hallam rasped. He skirted the main path to skulk towards one of the shuttered windows on the building's eastern wall. There was a crack in the wood and he gently inched closer to peer inside.
There was a hearth-fire with a pot bubbling away and a battered table made of a length of wood over two pieces of cut timber. A small ham hung from the rafters, away from the rats and mice. He couldn't see anyone but there was a murmur of voices. Hallam leaned in even closer and a young boy with hair the colour of straw saw the movement to stare. It was Little Jim. Thank God, the child was safe. Snot hung from his nose and he was pale. Hallam put a finger to his lips, but the boy, not even four, did not understand, and just gaped innocently back.
Movement near the window. A man wearing a blue jacket took up a stone bottle and wiped his long flowing moustache afterwards. His hair was shoulder-length, falling unruly over the red collar of his jacket. Tied around his neck was a filthy red neckerchief. A woman moaned and the man grinned with tobacco stained teeth at the sound. Laughter and French voices. The woman whimpered and Little Jim turned to watch unseen figures. His eyes glistened and his bottom lip dropped. The woman began to plead and Hallam instinctively growled.
The Frenchman, hearing the noise, pushed the shutter open and the pistol's cold muzzle pressed against his forehead.
Hallam watched the man's eye #Quote by David Cook

#84. When you hear about what someone else is going through, and you are unable to distance yourself from it or in any way muzzle your empathy and are inspired to actually do something, these are moments to learn from. #Quote by Henry Rollins

#85. To the left Derek raised his bloody muzzle from the ruined back of the fifth reeve.
"Don't bite!" Dumbass. Perfect wolf for you - isn't happy until he's got poisonous shit smeared all over his teeth. #Quote by Ilona Andrews

#86. The first step in a fascist movement is the combination under an energetic leader of a number of men who possess more than the average share of leisure, brutality, and stupidity. The next step is to fascinate fools and muzzle the intelligent, by emotional excitement on the one hand and terrorism on the other. #Quote by Bertrand Russell

#87. Of the quaking recruit, three pitched battles make a grim grenadier; and he who shrank from the muzzle of a cannon, is now ready to yield his mustache for a sponge. #Quote by Herman Melville

#88. I don't have to muzzle myself when I'm a civilian. When you're a governor, you kind of have to do it, because you represent the whole state. You have to leave your personal opinions to yourself a lot. I learned that. #Quote by Jesse Ventura

#89. Once, my grandmama told me a story about her great-grandmama. She'd come across the ocean, been kidnapped and sold. Said her great-grandmama told her that in her village, they ate fear. Said it turned the food to sand in they mouth. Said everyone knew about the death march to the cost, that word had come down about the ships, about how they packed men and women into them. Some heard it was even worse for those who sailed off, sunk into the far. Because that's what it looked like when the ship crossed the horizon: like the ship sailed off and sunk, bit by bit, into the water. Her grandmama said they never went out at night, and even in the day, they stayed in the shadows of they houses. But still, they came for her. Kidnapped her here, and she learned the boats didn't sink to some watery place, sailed by white ghosts. She learned that bad things happened on that ship, all the way until it docked. That her skin grew around the chains. That her mouth shaped to the muzzle. That she was made into an animal under the hot, bright sky, the same sky the rest of her family was under, somewhere far aways, in another world. I knew what that was, to be made a animal. #Quote by Jesmyn Ward

#90. You can say 'stop' or 'alto' or use any other word you think will work but I've found that a large bore muzzle pointed at someone's head is pretty much the universal language. #Quote by Clint Smith

#91. She reaches down into her bulging tote bag and pulls out a small plastic box with a hinged lid. It contains a round pill box with a threaded lid from which she tips out a vitamin pill, a fish-oil pill, and the enzyme tablet that lets her stomach digest milk. Inside the hinged plastic box she also carries packets of salt, pepper, horseradish, and hand-wipes, a doll size bottle of Tabasco sauce, chlorine pills for treating drinking water, Pepto-Bismol chews, and God knows what else. If you go to a concert, Bina has opera glasses. If you need to sit on the grass, she whips out a towel. Ant traps, a corkscrew, candles and matches, a dog muzzle, a penknife, a tiny aerosol can of freon, a magnifying glass - Landsman has seen everything come out of that overstuffed cowhide at one time or another. #Quote by Michael Chabon

#92. For man was created of the dust of the earth, but woman was made of a part of man, after that he was a living soul: yet was she not produced from Adam's foot, to be his too low inferior; nor from his head to be his superior, but from his side, near his heart, to be his equal; that where he is Lord, she may be Lady. #Quote by Rachel Speght

#93. Mosca usually kept Saracen on a muzzle and leash, but on their first night in Grabely a laughing ostler had made the mistake of assuming that if something waddles it is funny, and that if it is funny then it is harmless, and that if it is harmless there is nothing to be lost by removing its muzzle.... #Quote by Francis Harding

#94. 1I said, I will watch my ways and keep my tongue from sin; I will put a muzzle on my mouth while in the presence of the wicked. #Quote by Anonymous

#95. That dog is a wolf, is he not?'

'Aye, well, mostly.'

A small flash of hazel told him not to quibble.

'And yet he is thy boon companion, a creature of rare courage and affection, and altogether a worthy being?;

'Oh, aye,' he said with more confidence. 'He is."

She gave him an even look.

'Thee is a wolf, too, and I know it. But thee is my wolf, and best thee know that.'

He'd started to burn when she spoke, an ignition swift and fierce as the lighting of one of his cousin's matches. He put out his hand, palm forward, to her, still cautious lest she too, burst into flame.

'What I said to ye, before . . . that I kent ye loved me-'

She stepped forward and pressed her palm to his, her small, cool fingers linking tight.

'What I say to thee now is that I do love thee. And if thee hunts at night, thee will come home.'

Under the sycamore, the dog yawned and laid his muzzle on his paws.

'And sleep at they feet,' Ian whispered, and gathered her in with his one good arm, both of them blazing bright as day. #Quote by Diana Gabaldon

#96. Brambleclaw's tail filicked angrily. "Did there have to be so many lies?" He was staring at Squirrelflight. "Couldn't you have told me the truth?"
Squirrelflight dipped her head. "It was never my secret to tell. Leafpool had so much to lose".
"She lost everything anyway", Brambleclaw snarled.
"No, I didn't". Leafpool lifted her muzzle. "I watched my kits grow into fine warrior, and I still serve my Clan with all my heart".
Lionblaze felt his heart prick. Perhaps this was the truth that was most important. Leafpool had sacrificed so much and, even though her kits rejected her time and again, she'd never stopped loving them. In his darkest moments, he couldn't deny that.
"Brambleclaw, I'm sorry". Squirrelflight moved closer to the ThunderClan deputy. Her voice was stronger now, as if she was tired of being punished for something she had believed to be right. "You have to understand that I never intended to hurt you. I loved you, and was proud to raise these kits with you. You were a wonderful father".
"But I wasn't their father!" Brambleclaw hissed.
"Yes, you were!" Squirrelflight thrust her muzzle close to Brambleclaw's. Her eyes blazed. "Don't throw away everything just because you are angry with me!"
Lionblaze swallowed. "I was so proud to be your son".
Brambleclaw looked at him in surprise, as if he'd forgotton Lionblaze was there. Something in the deputy's expression changed. "And I couldn't have asked for a better son. And you #Quote by Erin Hunter

#97. I sob and clutch my stuffed bunny. Nick leaps up on my bed and squashes his body against mine, nuzzling my face with his muzzle until I lift it enough for him to lick away my tears.
While the pixie rages downstairs, I wrap my arms around Nick's furry body and cry into him. My shoulders quake from the effort of it. He whimpers once or twice and tries to lick my face some more, but mostly he watches the door, and eventually I stop with the pathetic sobbing stuff and just keep crying. #Quote by Carrie Jones

#98. Oh. Sorry about the muzzle. But it was necessary to protect you from your own stupidity. (Thorn) #Quote by Sherrilyn Kenyon

#99. The United States in the twenty-first century is not very much like nineteenth-century Prussia (Prussia today isn't much like Prussia then, either), but we still use its educational methods. We would never think of using its transportation methods (horsepower was literally horsepower), its communication methods (telegraphs), or its military technology (muzzle-loaders and bayonets). But government-run systems have a way of preserving themselves well past any rational point, which is why the United States still maintains the helium reserve it established for dirigible warfare - presumably to fight those nineteenth-century Prussians. #Quote by Kevin D. Williamson

#100. I was hiking a five-day loop - alone - in the Rocky Mountains when I rounded the switchback and saw a large body on the trail ahead. It had brown fur with a cinnamon tinge that was draped across dense, humped back muscle. A broad head lifted and I could see the dish-shaped muzzle was catching my scent. I knew bears. This was a grizzly. #Quote by Claire Cameron

#101. He seemed a kind of cannon loaded to the muzzle with facts, and prepared to blow them clean out of the regions of childhood at one discharge. #Quote by Charles Dickens