Freak Quotes

Quotes tagged as "freak" Showing 1-30 of 39
Jennifer Niven
“Dear friend, You are not a freak. You are wanted. You are necessary. You are the only you there is. Don’t be afraid to leave the castle. It’s a great big world out there. Love, a fellow reader”
Jennifer Niven, Holding Up the Universe

Katherine Dunn
“They thought to use and shame me but I win out by nature, because a true freak cannot be made. A true freak must be born.”
Katherine Dunn, Geek Love

Julie Hockley
“The problem is normal was'nt in my DNA. I was destined to be forever freakish.”
Julie Hockley, Crow's Row

Stieg Larsson
“There is nothing to talk about" she said. "I'm just a freak that's all.”
Stieg Larsson, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo

Donna Lynn Hope
“The most interesting people are the unusual. No one writes about or discusses the average, the ordinary, or the common; they write about and discuss the weird, the mad and the different, so if you are one, even though the opinions of others are of no importance, you are, in their eyes, significant enough to notice and remember.”
Donna Lynn Hope

Yuna Kagesaki
“Well, you're right. I'm a Freak."


"I love being bullied. Being hit and kicked by others gets me totally excited. That's what kind of freak I am.
Sorry if that bothers you.”
Yuna Kagesaki, AiON Volume 1

“Facebook is that successful guy you’re supposed to want to date, but you can’t keep your mind off the beautiful freak in the corner. Twitter is my freak.”
Jennifer Harrison, Write like no one is reading 2

Michael Bassey Johnson
“A deaf and dumb in the mist of morons is a renowed talkative among brains.”
Michael Bassey Johnson

RoAnna Sylver
“They'll use guns and they'll use words, and the worst part of all is that you might listen when they say you're a freak or a monster, and you might start to believe it.
But they are lying.”
RoAnna Sylver, Chameleon Moon

Jazz Feylynn
“When someone says "don’t freak," wouldn’t a person think that maybe they should freak?”
Jazz Feylynn, Colorado State of Mind

“Trust me, I am nuts!”
Cass van Krah

Truman Capote
“Well, it wasn't no revelation to me cause I always knew she was a freak.”
Truman Capote, Other Voices, Other Rooms

Jaxon Reed
“Have you ever watched kids on a playground? There will be one kid taller than all the rest. He’s out there playing, and he’s the tallest one. But he doesn’t know he’s tall. Maybe on some level it registers with him that the other kids in his class are shorter, that he has to look down to meet their eyes when he’s close to them, but he never really thinks much about it. “Later, if the difference stays and he remains taller than others, somebody will say something about his height. Maybe they’ll tease him and call him a freak. Then he’ll fully realize he’s taller than normal. He still won’t think much about it, though, until others point it out to him all the time.”
Jaxon Reed, The Empathic Detective

“Some long for acceptance while others fear for anything ordinary.”
Dominic Riccitello

Michael  Grant
“Sam always felt like a fool in this room. He sat in a too-big chair at one end of the table. Astrid was at the other. Her hands were on the table, slender fingers flat on the surface.
Dekka sat scowling, irritated, though Sam wasn’t sure at whom she was directing her dark mood. A piece of something blue was stuck in one of her tight cornrows—not that anyone was foolish enough to point it out or laugh.
Dekka was a freak, the only one besides Sam in this room. She had the power to temporarily cancel gravity in small areas. Sam counted her as an ally. Dekka was not about talking without end and getting nothing done.
Albert was the best-dressed person in the room, wearing an amazingly clean and seemingly un-salty polo shirt and relatively unwrinkled slacks. He looked like a very young businessman who had stopped by on his way to a round of golf.
Albert was a normal, though he seemed nevertheless to have an almost supernatural ability to organize, to make things happen, to do business. Looking at the group through hooded eyes, Sam knew Albert was probably the most powerful person in the room. Albert, more than any other person, had kept Perdido Beach from starving.
Edilio slumped, holding his head with both hands and not making eye contact with anyone. He had a submachine gun propped against his chair, a sight that had become all too normal.
Edilio was officially town marshal. Probably the mildest, most modest and least-assuming person in the council, he was in charge of enforcing whatever rules the council created. If they ever got around to actually creating any.
Howard was the wild card in the group. Sam still wasn’t sure how he had managed to talk his way onto the council. No one doubted that Howard was smart. But no one thought he had an honest or ethical bone in his body. Howard was chief toady to Orc, the glowering, drunken-boy-turned-monster who had fought on the right side a couple of times when it had really counted.
The youngest member was a sweet-faced boy named John Terrafino. He was a normal, too—Mary’s little brother. He seldom had much to say and mostly listened. Everyone assumed he voted however Mary told him to. Mary would have been there, but she was simultaneously indispensable and fragile.
Seven council members. Astrid as chairperson. Five normals, two freaks.”
Michael Grant, Lies

Michael  Grant
“He’s a murdering chud,” Zil was yelling.
“What do you want to do? Lynch him?” Astrid demanded.
That stopped the flow for a second as kids tried to figure out what “lynch” meant. But Zil quickly recovered.
“I saw him do it. He used his powers to kill Harry.”
“I was trying to stop you from smashing my head in!” Hunter shouted.
“You’re a lying mutant freak!”
“They think they can do anything they want,” another voice shouted.
Astrid said, as calmly as she could while still pitching her voice to be heard, “We are not going down that path, people, dividing up between freaks and normals.”
“They already did it!” Zil cried. “It’s the freaks acting all special and like their farts don’t stink.”
That earned a laugh.
“And now they’re starting to kill us,” Zil cried.
Angry cheers.
Edilio squared his shoulders and stepped into the crowd. He went first to Hank, the kid with the shotgun. He tapped him on the shoulder and said, “Give me that thing.”
“No way,” Hank said. But he didn’t seem too certain.
“You want to have that thing fire by accident and blow someone’s face off?” Edilio held his hand out. “Give it to me, man.”
Zil rounded on Edilio. “You going to make Hunter give up his weapon? Huh? He’s got powers, man, and that’s okay, but the normals can’t have any weapon? How are we supposed to defend ourselves from the freaks?”
“Man, give it a rest, huh?” Edilio said. He was doing his best to sound more weary than angry or scared. Things were already bad enough. “Zil, you want to be responsible if that gauge goes off and kills Astrid? You want to maybe give that some thought?”
Zil blinked. But he said, “Dude, I’m not scared of Sam.”
“Sam won’t be your problem, I will be,” Edilio snapped, losing patience. “Anything happens to her, I’ll take you down before Sam ever gets the chance.”
Zil snorted derisively. “Ah, good little boy, Edilio, kissing up to the chuds. I got news for you, dilly dilly, you’re a lowly normal, just like me and the rest of us."
“I’m going to let that go,” Edilio said evenly, striving to regain his cool, trying to sound calm and in control, even though he could hardly take his eyes off the twin barrels of the shotgun. “But now I’m taking that shotgun.”
“No way!” Hank cried, and the next thing was an explosion so loud, Edilio thought a bomb had gone off. The muzzle flash blinded him, like camera flash going off in his face.
Someone yelled in pain.
Edilio staggered back, squeezed his eyes shut, trying to adjust. When he opened them again the shotgun was on the ground and the boy who’d accidentally fired it was holding his bruised hand, obviously shocked.
Zil bent to grab the gun. Edilio took two steps forward and kicked Zil in the face. As Zil fell back Edilio made a grab for the shotgun. He never saw the blow that turned his knees to water and filled his head with stars.
He fell like a sack of bricks, but even as he fell he lurched forward to cover the shotgun.
Astrid screamed and launched herself down the stairs to protect Edilio.
Antoine, the one who had hit Edilio, was raising his bat to hit Edilio again, but on the back swing he caught Astrid in the face.
Antoine cursed, suddenly fearful. Zil yelled, “No, no, no!”
There was a sudden rush of running feet. Down the walkway, into the street, echoing down the block.”
Michael Grant, Hunger

Michael  Grant
“Hello, freak,” Drake said.
Lana backed away, but too late. Drake leveled his gun at her.
“I’m right-handed. ’Least I used to be. But I can still hit you from this distance.”
“What do you want?”
Drake motioned toward the stump of his right arm. It was gone from just above the elbow. “What do you think I want?”
The one time she’d seen Drake Merwin, he had made her think of Pack Leader: strong, hyper alert, dangerous. Now, the lean physique looked gaunt, the shark’s grin was a tight grimace, his eyes were red-rimmed. His stare, once languidly menacing, was now intense, burning hot. He looked like someone who had been tortured beyond endurance.
“I’ll try,” Lana said.
“You’ll do more than try,” he said. He convulsed in pain, face scrunched. A low, eerie moan escaped his throat.
“I don’t know if I can grow a whole arm back,” Lana said. “Let me touch it.”
“Not here,” he hissed. He motioned with his gun. “Through the back door.”
“If you shoot me, I can’t help you,” Lana argued.
“Can you heal dogs? How about if I blow his brains out? Can you heal that, freak?”
Michael Grant

Michael  Grant
“Go, Breeze,” someone yelled.
But another voice yelled, “Quit showing off, stupid mutant.”
Brianna stopped dead. Her dress settled back into place. “Who said that?”
Zil. The same jerk who had picked on Jack over the phones.
“Me,” Zil said, stepping forward. “And don’t bother trying to look tough. I’m not scared of you, freak.”
“You should be,” Brianna hissed.
Suddenly there was Dekka, up off her chair, hand extended between Brianna and Zil. “No,” she said in her deep voice. “None of that.”
Quinn joined her. “Dekka’s right, we can’t be having fights and stuff here. Sam will shut this place down.”
“Maybe we should have two different clubs,” a seventh grader named Antoine said. “You know, one for freaks and one for normals.”
“Man, what is the matter with you?” Quinn demanded.
“I don’t like her acting like she’s so cool, is all,” Zil said, stepping beside Antoine.
“You should be on our side, Quinn. Everyone knows you’re a normal,” another kid, Lance, said. “Well…kind of normal. You’re still Quinn.”
Michael Grant, Hunger

Michael  Grant
“The food is ready,” Zil announced to loud cheers.
“But we have something more important to do, first, before we can eat.”
“We have to carry out some justice.”
That earned a silent stare until Turk and Hank started raising their hands and yelling, showing the crowd how to act.
“This mutant, this nonhuman scum here, this freak Hunter…” Zil pointed, arm stretched out, at his captive. “This chud deliberately murdered my best friend, Harry.”
“Na troo,” Hunter said. His mouth still didn’t work right. Brain damage, Zil supposed, from the little knock on his head. Half of Hunter’s face drooped like it wasn’t quite attached right. It made it easier for the crowd of kids to sneer at him, and Hunter, yelling in his drooling retard voice, wasn’t helping his case.
“He’s a killer!” Zil cried suddenly, smacking his fist into his palm.
“A freak! A mutant!” he cried. “And we know what they’re like, right? They always have enough food. They run everything. They’re in charge and we’re all starving. Is that some kind of coincidence? No way.”
“Na troo,” Hunter moaned again.
“Take him!” Zil cried to Antoine and Hank. “Take him, the murdering mutant scum!”
They seized Hunter by the arms. He could walk, but only by dragging one leg. They half carried, half marched him across the plaza. They dragged him up the church steps.
“Now,” Zil said, “here is how we’re going to do this.” He waved his hand toward the rope that Lance was unspooling back through the plaza.
An expectant pause. A dangerous, giddy feeling. The smell of the meat had them all crazy. Zil could feel it.
“You all want some of this delicious venison?”
They roared their assent.
“Then you’ll all grab on to the rope.”
Michael Grant, Hunger

Michael  Grant
“Sorry, folks, but the maximum occupancy is seventy-five,” Albert said. Then he spotted Jack. “Jack, how’s it going?”
“What? Oh, fine.” Jack was confused as to how to proceed. He didn’t want to wait in line if Brianna wasn’t even inside.
“You look like a man with a question,” Albert prompted.
“Well, I’m kind of looking for Brianna. We had this…it’s a…tech thing. You wouldn’t understand.”
“Breeze is already inside.”
One of the kids in the line said, “Of course she is, she’s a freak. They always get in.”
A second kid nodded. “Yeah, the freaks don’t wait in lines. Bet she didn’t have to pay, either.”
Albert said, “Hey, she got here a little before you guys did and she waited. And she paid.” Then to Jack. “Go ahead in.”
“See?” the first kid crowed. “He’s one, too.”
“Dude, he set up my sound system,” Albert said. “What have you done for me other than stand here and bust on me?”
Michael Grant, Hunger

Michael  Grant
“The intruders spoke no words as they rushed in. Five boys carrying baseball bats and tire irons. They wore an assortment of Halloween masks and stocking masks.
But Derek knew who they were.
“No! No!” he cried.
All five boys wore bulky shooter’s earmuffs. They couldn’t hear him. But more importantly, they couldn’t hear Jill.
One of the boys stayed in the doorway. He was in charge. A runty kid named Hank. The stocking pulled down over his face smashed his features into Play-Doh, but it could only be Hank.
One of the boys, fat but fast-moving and wearing an Easter Bunny mask, stepped to Derek and hit him in the stomach with his aluminum baseball bat.
Derek dropped to his knees.
Another boy grabbed Jill. He put his hand over her mouth. Someone produced a roll of duct tape.
Jill screamed. Derek tried to stand, but the blow to his stomach had winded him. He tried to stand up, but the fat boy pushed him back down.
“Don’t be stupid, Derek. We’re not after you.”
The duct tape went around and around Jill’s mouth. They worked by flashlight. Derek could see Jill’s eyes, wild with terror. Pleading silently with her big brother to save her.
When her mouth was sealed, the thugs pulled off their shooter’s earmuffs.
Hank stepped forward. “Derek, Derek, Derek,” Hank said, shaking his head slowly, regretfully. “You know better than this.”
“Leave her alone,” Derek managed to gasp, clutching his stomach, fighting the urge to vomit.
“She’s a freak,” Hank said.
“She’s my little sister. This is our home.”
“She’s a freak,” Hank said. “And this house is east of First Avenue. This is a no-freak zone.”
“Man, come on,” Derek pleaded. “She’s not hurting anyone.”
“It’s not about that,” a boy named Turk said. He had a weak leg, a limp that made it impossible not to recognize him. “Freaks with freaks, normals with normals. That’s the way it has to be.”
“All she does is—”
Hank’s slap stung. “Shut up. Traitor. A normal who stands up for a freak gets treated like a freak. Is that what you want?”
“Besides,” the fat boy said with a giggle, “we’re taking it easy on her. We were going to fix her so she could never sing again. Or talk. If you know what I mean.”
He pulled a knife from a sheath in the small of his back. “Do you, Derek? Do you understand?”
Derek’s resistance died.
“The Leader showed mercy,” Turk said. “But the Leader isn’t weak. So this freak either goes west, over the border right now. Or…” He let the threat hang there.
Jill’s tears flowed freely. She could barely breathe because her nose was running. Derek could see that by the way she sucked tape into her mouth, trying for air. She would suffocate if they didn’t let her go soon.
“Let me at least get her doll.”
Michael Grant, Lies

Christina Engela
“This was his first trip on the Ossifar Distana, his first real splash in life. Look what it got him. Mister Smiff liked anonymity. He kept a low profile, often traveling under assumed names, claiming to be anything from a banker to a (very) successful life insurance salesman. He’d never broken the law, at least not irreparably. He was quite generous, well liked, sponsoring many charities anonymously – which is why it was so surprising to find him floating face down in the private spa in his apartment, murdered. He had been murdered, unless it was a freak shaving accident. Those old razors weren’t called cut-throats for nothing. Yikes.”
Christina Engela, Dead Man's Hammer

Deyth Banger
“The Sinister 1 freak me out, so creeepy so many mysteries, so many puzzles, so many reverses. This just freak me out...”
Deyth Banger

Deyth Banger
“1408 Film by Stephen King freak me out, the story also freak me out. But watching the film how is made, how much reverses were shown just terrified me. The ending was suprising!”
Deyth Banger

Rainbow Rowell
“He already thought she was a weirdo, and this was just going to make her seem that much weirder. Did the bearded lady get excited when cute guys came to her freak show?”
Rainbow Rowell, Fangirl

“I think every writer has a little freak in ‘em.”
A.D. Posey

Shaun David Hutchinson
“In this bubble of time, I wasn't a freak and he wasn't a bully, and we could be friends without anyone knowing, and at least for now, that was enough.”
Shaun David Hutchinson, The Apocalypse of Elena Mendoza

Deyth Banger
“If you to get progress... less fuck is the formula + label people... and put yourself in high status...
you are there and you own the room... you ain't jealous, you ain't freak or blame.”
Deyth Banger, How to Talk to Anyone

Deyth Banger
“Welcome to the freak show… BASTARDS!”
Deyth Banger, Jokes From A

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