Femme Fatale Quotes

Quotes tagged as "femme-fatale" Showing 1-30 of 47
Gillian Flynn
“I’ve grown quite weary of the spunky heroines, brave rape victims, soul-searching fashionistas that stock so many books. I particularly mourn the lack of female villains — good, potent female villains. Not ill-tempered women who scheme about landing good men and better shoes (as if we had nothing more interesting to war over), not chilly WASP mothers (emotionally distant isn’t necessarily evil), not soapy vixens (merely bitchy doesn’t qualify either). I’m talking violent, wicked women. Scary women. Don’t tell me you don’t know some. The point is, women have spent so many years girl-powering ourselves — to the point of almost parodic encouragement — we’ve left no room to acknowledge our dark side. Dark sides are important. They should be nurtured like nasty black orchids.”
Gillian Flynn

Donna Lynn Hope
“If its danger you seek, come on over. I covet tranquility but beget the tempest storm.”
Donna Lynn Hope

Donna Lynn Hope
“The spider's web: She finds an innocuous corner in which to spin her web. The longer the web takes, the more fabulous its construction. She has no need to chase. She sits quietly, her patience a consummate force; she waits for her prey to come to her on their own, and then she ensnares them, injects them with venom, rendering them unable to escape. Spiders – so needed and yet so misunderstood.”
Donna Lynn Hope

“Blow on, ye death fraught whirlwinds! blow,
Around the rocks, and rifted caves;
Ye demons of the gulf below!
I hear you, in the troubled waves.
High on this cliff, which darkness shrouds
In night's impenetrable clouds,
My solitary watch I keep,
And listen, while the turbid deep
Groans to the raging tempests, as they roll
Their desolating force, to thunder at the pole.

Eternal world of waters, hail!
Within thy caves my Lover lies;
And day and night alike shall fail
Ere slumber lock my streaming eyes.
Along this wild untrodden coast,
Heap'd by the gelid' hand of frost;
Thro' this unbounded waste of seas,
Where never sigh'd the vernal breeze;
Mine was the choice, in this terrific form,
To brave the icy surge, to shiver in the storm.

Yes! I am chang'd - My heart, my soul,
Retain no more their former glow.
Hence, ere the black'ning tempests roll,
I watch the bark, in murmurs low,
(While darker low'rs the thick'ning' gloom)
To lure the sailor to his doom;
Soft from some pile of frozen snow
I pour the syren-song of woe;
Like the sad mariner's expiring cry,
As, faint and worn with toil, he lays him down to die.

Then, while the dark and angry deep
Hangs his huge billows high in air ;
And the wild wind with awful sweep,
Howls in each fitful swell - beware!
Firm on the rent and crashing mast,
I lend new fury to the blast;
I mark each hardy cheek grow pale,
And the proud sons of courage fail;
Till the torn vessel drinks the surging waves,
Yawns the disparted main, and opes its shelving graves.

When Vengeance bears along the wave
The spell, which heav'n and earth appals;
Alone, by night, in darksome cave,
On me the gifted wizard calls.
Above the ocean's boiling flood
Thro' vapour glares the moon in blood:
Low sounds along the waters die,
And shrieks of anguish fill the' sky;
Convulsive powers the solid rocks divide,
While, o'er the heaving surge, the embodied spirits glide.

Thrice welcome to my weary sight,
Avenging ministers of Wrath!
Ye heard, amid the realms of night,
The spell that wakes the sleep of death.
Where Hecla's flames the snows dissolve,
Or storms, the polar skies involve;
Where, o'er the tempest-beaten wreck,
The raging winds and billows break;
On the sad earth, and in the stormy sea,
All, all shall shudd'ring own your potent agency.

To aid your toils, to scatter death,
Swift, as the sheeted lightning's force,
When the keen north-wind's freezing breath
Spreads desolation in its course,
My soul within this icy sea,
Fulfils her fearful destiny.
Thro' Time's long ages I shall wait
To lead the victims to their fate;
With callous heart, to hidden rocks decoy,
And lure, in seraph-strains, unpitying, to destroy.”
Anne Bannerman, Poems by Anne Bannerman.

Gil Brewer
“She looked hot enough to catch fire, but too lazy to do anything but just lie there and smoke.”
Gil Brewer, The Vengeful Virgin

James J. Caterino
“Ever since I could remember, She was all that mattered.”
James J. Caterino, She

Mav Skye
“Be dangerous, darling, for the whole world rises and falls at your feet.”
Mav Skye, Wanted: Single Rose

“I’ve never considered myself a femme fatale as I’ve never seduced anyone and ruined their lives. At least as far as I know.”
Scarlett Johansson

Alice Munro
“To be a femme fatale you don't have to be slinky and sensuous and disastrously beautiful, you just have to have the will to disturb.”
Alice Munro

Charles Nodier
“Do not be alarmed if they look paler than the other maidens of Greece. They are scarcely of this Earth, and seem to be shaking off the sleep of a past life.”
Charles Nodier, Smarra & Trilby

Ljupka Cvetanova
“Pandora opened the box with the new high-heels, put them on and went out to town.”
Ljupka Cvetanova, The New Land

Gil Brewer
“She looked like a vixen, and that’s what she was; she had all the instincts of a female fox. She was the proverbial predatory female. She had what she wanted, now, and she was content. There was just the getting completely away with it that counted.”
Gil Brewer, Sin for Me

Alexandr Blok
“From sunset she appeared,

Her cloak pierced by a bloom

Of unfamiliar climes.

She summoned me somewhere

Into the northern gloom

And aimless winter ice.

And bonfire burned 'mid night,

And with its tongues the blaze

Did lick the very skies.

The eyes flashed fiery light,

And falling as black snakes

The tresses were released.

And then the snakes encircled

My mind and lofty spirit

Lay spread upon the cross.

And in the snowdust's swirl

To black eyes I am true,

To beauty of the coils.

(untitled: "From sunset she appeared")”
Alexander Blok, The Silver Age of Russian Culture: An Anthology

Michael Ondaatje
“I know the devices of a demon. I was taught as a child about the demon lover. I was told about a beautiful temptress who came to a young man's room. And he, if he were wise, would demand that she turn around, because demons and witches have no back, only what they wish to present to you.”
Michael Ondaatje, The English Patient

Mav Skye
“Velva’s face glowed in the streetlight. “Sir Sun, don’t you see? I am your violent violet. And you are mine.”
Mav Skye, Wanted: Single Rose

Mav Skye
“I have a present for you.”
He raised his eye brows. “I don’t like your surprises.”
“You’ll like this one. Close your eyes.”
Mav Skye, Wanted: Single Rose

“We are diamonds in the rough
Through the thrust and toil, we come out strong
We are the breath of the earth,
Our wombs tell of humanity's birth
We are seeds splattered on putrid soils
Still we sprout, through every storm
We are not here to survive,
We are here to live...
Inward and outward
In the incandescence of our existence
Yes, our voices may sometimes be broken
But our spirit remains indestructible.
We are women, unapologetically!”
Chinonye J. Chidolue

James Ellroy
“Don't make a career out of underestimating me." — Claire de Haven”
James Ellroy, The Big Nowhere

Grace Curley
“Her smile cut sharper than a knife’s edge.”
Grace Curley, The Light that Binds Us

Valery Bryusov
“Thus spoke the Beauty and her voice had a cheerful ring, and her face was aflame with a great rejoicing. She finished her story and began to laugh quietly, but not cheerfully. The Youth bowed down before her and silently kissed her hands, inhaling the languid fragrance of myrrh, aloe and musk which wafted from her body and her fine robes. The Beauty began to speak again.

'There came to me streams of oppressors, because my evil, poisonous beauty bewitches them. I smile at them, they who are doomed to death, and I feel pity for each of them, and some I almost loved, but I gave myself to no one. Each one I gave but one single kiss — and my kisses were innocent as the kisses of a tender sister. And whomsoever I kissed, died.'

The soul of the troubled Youth was caught in agony, between two quite irresolvable passions, the terror of death and an inexpressible ecstasy. But love, conquering all, overcoming even the anguish of death's grief, was triumphant once again today. Solemnly stretching out his trembling hands to the tender and terrifying Beauty, the Youth exclaimed, 'If death is in your kiss, o beloved, let me revel in the infinity of death. Cling to me, kiss me, love me, envelop me with the sweet fragrance of your poisonous breath, death after death pour into my body and into my soul before you destroy everything that once was me!'

'You want to! You are not afraid!' exclaimed the Beauty.

The face of the Beauty was pale in the rays of the lifeless moon, like a guttering candle, and the lightning in her sad and joyful eyes was trembling and blue. With a trusting movement, tender and passionate, she clung to the Youth and her naked, slender arms were entwined about his neck.

'We shall die together!' she whispered. 'We shall die together. All the poison of my heart is afire and flaming streams are rushing through my veins, and I am all enveloped in some great holocaust.'

'I am aflame!' whispered the Youth, 'I am being consumed in your embraces and you and I are two flaming fires, burning with the immense ecstasy of a poisonous love.'

The sad and lifeless moon grew dim and fell in the sky — and the black night came and stood watch. It concealed the secret of love and kisses, fragrant and poisonous, with gloom and solitude. And it listened to the harmonious beating of two hearts growing quieter, and in the frail silence it watched over the final delicate sighs.

And so, in the poisonous Garden, having breathed the fragrances which the Beauty breathed, and having drunk the sweetness of her love so tenderly and fatally compassionate, the beautiful Youth died. And on his breast the Beauty died, having delivered her poisonous but fragrant soul up to sweet ecstasies.

("The Poison Garden")”
Valery Bryusov, The Silver Age of Russian Culture: An Anthology

Guy de Maupassant
“A boat with an awning and containing four women came slowly downstream towards them. The woman at the oars was small, lean, and past her prime. She wore her hair pinned up inside an oilskin hat. Opposite her a big blonde dressed in a man's jacket was lying on her back at the bottom of the boat with a foot resting on the thwart on either side of the oarswoman. The blonde was smoking a cigarette and with each jerk of the oars her bosom and belly quivered. At the very stern of the boat under the awning two beautiful, tall, slender girls, one blonde and the other brunette, sat with their arms round each other's waists watching their two companions.

A shout went up from La Grenouillere: "Aye-aye! Lesbos!" and suddenly a wild clamor broke out. In the terrifying scramble to see, glasses were knocked over and people started climbing on the tables. Everyone began to chant "Lesbos! Lesbos! Lesbos!" The words merged into a vague howl before suddenly starting up again, rising into the air, filling the plain beyond, resounding in the dense foliage of the tall surrounding trees and echoing in the distance as if aimed at the sun itself.”
Guy de Maupassant, A Parisian Affair and Other Stories

Valery Bryusov
“Night fell. The full moon shone sweetly and tremulously, bewitching and foreboding with rays which were cold and funereally silent. The heart of the Youth was filled with an apprehensive fear as he went up to his window. His hand, clutching the edge of the yellow curtain, hesitated and vacillated for a long time before he resolved to draw the curtain slowly aside. The yellow linen rustled as it slowly gathered, and its rustle was like the barely audible hissing of a serpent in the forest's undergrowth; and the thin brass rings jingled and scraped against the brass curtain rod.

The Beauty stood beneath the window and looked at the window and waited. And the heart of the Youth shuddered, and he could not make out whether his heart was seized by ecstasy or terror.

The black braids of the Beauty were undone and fell on her naked shoulders. A sharply outlined shadow lay on the ground beside her. Illuminated from the side by the moon, she stood like some distinct and well-defined spectre. That half of her face which was illuminated by the moon, as well as her shoulders and her arms, were deathly white, as white as her robe. The folds of her white robe were severe and dark. Dark was the azure of her eyes, mysterious her frozen smile. A smooth, burnished clasp, fastened at the shoulder, gleamed dully against the strange tranquility of her body and garments. She began to speak softly, and her words, ringing like the fine silver chains of a lighted censer, gave forth a fragrance of ambergris, musk and lily.

("The Poison Garden”
Valery Bryusov, The Silver Age of Russian Culture: An Anthology

Mladen Đorđević
“Woman is like a russian roulette", i've used to say, "it doesn't matter how many you dodge away or find the ones that would steal your breath and makes you sweat, at the end of the day, the fatal one always finds you. It is simply the law of the Love Gun.”
Mladen Đorđević, Svetioničar - Vesnici oluje

Guy de Maupassant
“On the land adjoining La Grenouillère strollers were sauntering under the gigantic trees which help to make this part of the island one of the most delightful parks imaginable. Busty women with peroxided hair and nipped-in waists could be seen, made up to the nines with blood red lips and black-kohled eyes. Tightly laced into their garish dresses they trailed in all their vulgar glory over the fresh green grass. They were accompanied by men whose fashion-plate accessories, light gloves, patent-leather boots, canes as slender as threads and absurd monocles made them look like complete idiots.”
Guy de Maupassant, A Parisian Affair and Other Stories

Alexander Ferrick
“When I was young, I used to watch a lot of old movies and read a lot of books, and I was always amazed at how every one of them had some helpless damsel who was oh so happy to fall into the hero’s arms, and I’m not that kind of girl"- Yvonne”
Alexander Ferrick, HACK3R

“Remember, curiosity killed the cat."

She was wrong of course. Curiosity could never kill this cat. But yes, a pair of beautiful brown eyes could.”
Saurbh Katyal, The Invisible Woman

Pierre Choderlos de Laclos
“N’avez-vous pas dû en conclure que, née pour venger mon sexe & maîtriser le vôtre, j’avais su me créer des moyens inconnus jusqu’à moi?”
Pierre Choderlos de Laclos, Les Liaisons dangereuses

A.D. Aliwat
“A challenge, a surprise: the kind of girl you can’t forget. They write songs about this type of girl; make her into a character in the movies.”
A.D. Aliwat, In Limbo

A.D. Aliwat
“If I’m an angel, I’m the angel… of death.”
A.D. Aliwat, In Limbo

Madeline Miller
“The world was made of mysteries, and I was only another riddle among the millions. I did not answer him, and though he pretended frustration, I began to see that it pleased him in some strange way. A door that did not open at his knock was a novelty in its own right, and a kind of relief as well. All the world confessed to him. He confessed to me.”
Madeline Miller, Circe

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