Predator And Prey Quotes

“Woe to the deer who is courted by the charismatic wolf, or to the fly who is not immune to the sweet, sultry songs of the spider.”
― Nenia Campbell, Bleeds My Desire

“From here on," Kanin said, "you will have to decide what kind of demon you will be. Not all meals will come to you so easily, ignorant and seeking to do you harm. What will you do if your prey invites you inside, offers you a place at the table? What will you do if they flee, or cower down, begging you not to hurt them? How you stalk your prey is something you must come to terms with, or you will quickly drive yourself mad. And once you cross that threshold, there is no coming back from it.”
― Julie Kagawa, The Immortal Rules

“We would not be Human if we did not prefer to be the devourers rather than the devoured, but either is a blessing. Should your life be required of you, rest assured that it is required by Life.”
― Margaret Atwood, The Year of the Flood

“The predators must prey. The prey must be predated. They only wish to be preyed upon by someone who'll do the job properly.”
― Chuck Palahniuk, Not Forever, But For Now

“No man can tame a predator by acting like prey.”
― Tamerlan Kuzgov

“Infants never learn to soothe themselves to sleep. They learn, abandoned in seclusion, that no matter the volume of their despondence, no matter the force of their tears, when they are alone and frightened, no-one will ever come to their rescue. Infants do not soothe themselves. They merely surrender. And it is caged in their cribs where the infants learn, in the face of their demons, to remain silent and submitting.”
― C.SeanMcGee, Alex and The Gruff

“The animals who play with the most abandon are the predators."

"But surely prey are almost never safe enough to play.”
― Brenda Cooper, Edge of Dark

“An exceptional Sensei has traits such as patience and integrity. Otherwise, natural fighting ability, cruelty and aggressive behavior may be observed in most animal predators.”
― Soke Behzad Ahmadi, CHOKI MOTOBU Original MMA Fighter

“Predators prey on the weak; poets prey on brilliant ideas.”
― Michael Bassey Johnson, Song of a Nature Lover

“Then again, that's how the most successful predators work, she thinks ruefully. We stumble into their traps and do their work for them while we're busy getting on with the business of living.”
― Kimberly Morgan, On Angels and Rabbit Holes

“Vulnerability--not hunger, not anger, and certainly not spite--is the key to predator-prey relationships. The skill and viciousness of the hunter matters less than the size, speed, strength, health, and ferocity of the hunted. Vulnerability explains why large predators tend to kill the old, young, and sick members of prey populations. Predators eat the mild and weak because those are the animals they can catch and kill.”
― Jon T. Coleman, Vicious: Wolves and Men in America

“She could imagine how it would be. That was the worst part. The suggestive taunts that made her feel clumsy and hyper-vigilant, the soft touches that could spring like a trap—they painted a very vivid picture of what it would be like to fuck him, yes. He would not be nice or gentle, but he would be good, and he would gore her heart like any other trophy in this place just as soon as he was done playing with it.”
― Nenia Campbell, Raise the Blood

“Once you kill the predator inside you, you become prey.”
― Tamerlan Kuzgov

“When it comes to death, nature is much more cruel to predators than predators are to their own prey”
― Elizabeth Lowell, Warrior

“Bandit or demon, human or beast, none of it made any difference. The bandits had made this a situation of predators and prey. Only living mattered. Everything else was nothing more than an afterthought.”
― Drew Hayes, Split the Party

“And for the partridge there was the sun suddenly shut out, the foul flailing blackness spreading wings above, the roar ceasing, the blazing knives driving in, the terrible white face descending – hooked and masked and horned and staring-eyed. And then the back-breaking agony beginning, and snow scattering from scuffling feet, and snow filling the bill’s wide silent scream, till the merciful needle of the hawk’s beak notched in the straining neck and jerked the shuddering life away.

And for the hawk, resting now on the soft flaccid bulk of his prey, there was the rip and tear of choking feathers, and hot blood dripping from the hook of the beak, and rage dying slowly to a small hard core within.

And for the watcher, sheltered for centuries from such hunger and such rage, such agony and such fear, there is the memory of that sabring fall from the sky, and the vicarious joy of the guiltless hunter who kills only through his familiar, and wills him to be fed.”
― J.A. Baker, The Peregrine

“He started for the door, thinking of crimson velvet and burning eyes- and a woman's face swam into view.
Ah. A quarry. A victim of his plots and of his villainy.
He diverted his course, intercepting the woman. She was on the arm of an older man, her father.
Val swept her an abrupt bow. "Miss Royle. Sir."
Hippolyta Royle was the only daughter of Sir George Royle, who had gone to the East Indies to make his fortune and had done quite a good job indeed. The result was that Miss Royle had a dowry with few rivals in England.
"Your Grace." The lady's face, oval and proud and naturally olive-complexioned, paled at the sight of him.
Actually, he was rather used to that sort of reaction to his sudden appearance.
Blackmailer, and all.
He took her hand and brought it to his lips, peering over her knuckles. Her fingers were trembling. "Might I have the pleasure of this next dance, Miss Royle?"
Oh, she wanted to deny him, he could tell. Her full berry-red lips were pressed together, her dark brows gathered. The lady did not look entirely happy.
A state of affairs that didn't escape her father. "My dear?"
She patted the elderly man's hand. "It's nothing, Papa. It's just so hot in here."
"Then perhaps if we venture close to the windows-"
"Oh, but I insist on a turn on the floor," Val purred, his pulse racing, his nostrils flared. If she darted for cover he'd spring and sink his teeth into her. She was prey- his prey, and he'd not let her go. She was a prize and he'd parade her before all.”
― Elizabeth Hoyt, Duke of Sin

“Deirdre’s consciousness flooded with unbidden images. Her foot on a man’s throat; her gun against a man’s head; her hand wrapped around power; her seat atop a throne of yellowed bone, a kingdom spread out below her in bloodstained wasteland. In return: offerings, worship.

Worship: apes eating their own young, faces smeared in meatjelly.
Worship: jackbooted soldiers marching over corpse-strewn battlefields.
Worship: a father staring at the severed hands and feet of his own child.

Inside her gut, an instinctive gospel heaved itself into her diaphragm. The scripture said there were two kinds of people in the world: predators and prey. All other truths were secondary. Deirdre could be a predator in exchange for worship. If not…”
― S.R. Hughes, The War Beneath

“In this godforsaken city, predators make fortunes, and the prey? The prey either end up praying or doing drugs.”
― Soroosh Shahrivar, Tajrish

“Vulnerability is the biggest attraction to all predators. But your survival instincts are also at the highest when in danger. Use them, don't let fear shut them down.”
― Mitta Xinindlu

“Have you ever wondered why humans buy their dogs toys that squeak? It’s because the squeak mimics the sound of an animal fighting for its life, and the dog gets excited. Sometimes those squeaky, desperate sounds of struggle just make a predator want to bite even more.”
― Harley LaRoux, Her Soul to Take