Whore Quotes

“A bitch always smokes." He looks back at Lucy. "A bitch is the opposite of a whore. A bitch doesn't need anybody. Or she wants people to think she doesn't need anybody. And she smokes to prove it.”
― C. JoyBell C., Saint Paul Trois Chateaux: 1948

“Bitch."
"Slut."
"Whore."
"Cunt."
I kicked Joyce in the shin. I draw the line at cunt.”
― Janet Evanovich, Four to Score

“Bawdy in thoughts, precise in words,
Ill-natured though a whore,
Her belly is a bag of turds,
And her cunt a common shore.”
― John Wilmot, The Complete Poems

“Ancient whore secret:
to give enjoyable head,
enjoy giving head.”
― Asa Akira, Dirty Thirty: A Memoir

“Then, if to make your ruin more,
You'll peevishly be coy,
Die with the scandal of a whore
And never know the joy.”
― John Wilmot, The Complete Poems

“If she captured Tamlin’s power once, who’s to say she can’t do it again?” It was the question I hadn’t yet dared voice.
“He won’t be tricked again so easily,” he said, staring up at the ceiling. “Her biggest weapon is that she keeps our powers contained. But she can’t access them, not wholly—though she can control us through them. It’s why I’ve never been able to shatter her mind—why she’s not dead already. The moment you break Amarantha’s curse, Tamlin’s wrath will be so great that no force in the world will keep him from splattering her on the walls.”
A chill went through me.
“Why do you think I’m doing this?” He waved a hand to me.
“Because you’re a monster.”
He laughed. “True, but I’m also a pragmatist. Working Tamlin into a senseless fury is the best weapon we have against her. Seeing you enter into a fool’s bargain with Amarantha was one thing, but when Tamlin saw my tattoo on your arm … Oh, you should have been born with my abilities, if only to have felt the rage that seeped from him.”
I didn’t want to think much about his abilities. “Who’s to say he won’t splatter you as well?”
“Perhaps he’ll try—but I have a feeling he’ll kill Amarantha first. That’s what it all boils down to, anyway: even your servitude to me can be blamed on her. So he’ll kill her tomorrow, and I’ll be free before he can start a fight with me that will reduce our once-sacred mountain to rubble.” He picked at his nails. “And I have a few other cards to play.”
I lifted my brows in silent question.
“Feyre, for Cauldron’s sake. I drug you, but you don’t wonder why I never touch you beyond your waist or arms?”
Until tonight—until that damned kiss. I gritted my teeth, but even as my anger rose, a picture cleared.
“It’s the only claim I have to innocence,” he said, “the only thing that will make Tamlin think twice before entering into a battle with me that would cause a catastrophic loss of innocent life. It’s the only way I can convince him I was on your side. Believe me, I would have liked nothing more than to enjoy you—but there are bigger things at stake than taking a human woman to my bed.”
I knew, but I still asked, “Like what?”
“Like my territory,” he said, and his eyes held a far-off look that I hadn’t yet seen. “Like my remaining people, enslaved to a tyrant queen who can end their lives with a single word. Surely Tamlin expressed similar sentiments to you.” He hadn’t—not entirely. He hadn’t been able to, thanks to the curse.
“Why did Amarantha target you?” I dared ask. “Why make you her whore?”
“Beyond the obvious?” He gestured to his perfect face. When I didn’t smile, he loosed a breath. “My father killed Tamlin’s father—and his brothers.”
I started. Tamlin had never said—never told me the Night Court was responsible for that.
“It’s a long story, and I don’t feel like getting into it, but let’s just say that when she stole our lands out from under us, Amarantha decided that she especially wanted to punish the son of her friend’s murderer—decided that she hated me enough for my father’s deeds that I was to suffer.”
I might have reached a hand toward him, might have offered my apologies—but every thought had dried up in my head. What Amarantha had done to him …
“So,” he said wearily, “here we are, with the fate of our immortal world in the hands of an illiterate human.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Thorns and Roses

“I think the word whore is something ignorant people throw around when they have nothing else.”
― Taylor Jenkins Reid, The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo

“I've known a lot of whores in my life," added Gore, [...]. "Both men and women. And in general, I've always found them to be good company, with a highly evolved sense of honor. A whore will never cheat you, they have too much integrity for that. But you, Mr. Swift, you give the profession a bad name.”
― John Boyne, A Ladder to the Sky

“You're such a sucker for sweet talk that you'd lie with every scumbag who comes your way.”
― Ahmed Mostafa

“A tired man lay down his head
in a dusty room so dim,
and for so long his wife did shake
and yell to waken him.

Meanwhile his thoughts, his dreams, did stir
of sandy, red bullfights,
of powder-blasts in the air
and carnival delights.

Yet still his wife was in despair
in a dusty room so dim,
for she knew death was a whore
not far from tempting him.”
― Roman Payne

“A whore can always turn herself into a good little cook over time.”
― Michel Houellebecq, Soumission

“Puttana is too good for the likes of her."
A puttana is an Italian whore, and in Italy whores have a somewhat more reputable standing than they do elsewhere. For centuries they've been glorified in both classic opera and popular song. Among their many trustworthy attributes, Italian whores are reputed to be responsible for the development of a much beloved pasta sauce, pasta puttanesca, a spicy and salty dish made with capers and anchovies. Its chief attraction, aside from its wonderful flavor, is that it can be prepared quickly- in other words, between clients.”
― Meredith Mileti, Aftertaste: A Novel in Five Courses

“(…) to press me hotly, and we dance, sexes soldered, hot, burning, saying: Open your legs, God, I want you like hell, I could take you right here. Whore, whore, whore at last.”
― Anaïs Nin

“What is the world coming to, when you can't trust a whore named Snake?”
― Edward Conlon, Blue Blood by Conlon, Edward (2004) Paperback

“All I can tell you for certain is that at this very moment I'm speaking to you I could do with a really foul whore – I'd like her fresh from the seat of a close stool, her arse reeking of shit, and her cunt smelling of fish. Ho there, Thérèse! You whose filthiness dates back to the Flood, you who haven't wiped your arse since you were baptized and you whose vile cunt stinks for ten miles around, bring all that over here, I beg you, and add a turd, too, if you like.”
― Marquis de Sade, The 120 Days of Sodom

“I was the whore
I was bound to bore”
― Sijdah Hussain, Red Sugar, No More

“Not even once have most of us seen, having sex, any of the many people we are dead sure are sleeping around.”
― Mokokoma Mokhonoana

“Subtle! Subtlety is bourgeois. Brecht us that when he popped drama’s cherry. He fucked drama until it stopped being subtle, like a lady, and started being useful, like a whore.”
― David Burr Gerrard, Short Century

“she is a slut (M.B.)”
― Korr Heckman

“For a whore, if you must be one, must surely benefit more if of the male line. A female thus titled would be shamed, thrown out of her home, and stoned in the courtyard,”
― E.Y. Laster, Of Captivity & Kings

“It was she who did away with my generation’s virginity. She taught us much more than we should have learned, but she taught us above all that there’s no place in life sadder than an empty bed.”
― Gabriel García Márquez, Of Love and Other Demons

“This is not where I was meant to be. Born to the wrong house, by a stroke of misfortune. The girls here have it all. Men in whorehouses exist only to serve. We are their guards, tailors, cooks and their musicians. Forever in the shadows. If only I could be a woman. With soft hands, big breasts and long hair. To have men fawn all over me, to see them rise and fall. Alas, but all I have is small feet.”
― Ekta Kumar, Box of Lies: A Love Story, Without Love

“I’m tired
I’m so tired
Like an old whore
Like robots after the machines war”
― Sobhan Ganji, Plastic Panther

“St. Augustine: “The Church is a whore, but she’s my mother.” She is a mess and has many illegitimate children. But she is also our momma and managed to give birth to us and to give us enough of the truth that we have been able to ask the questions that we have in this book.”
― Shane Claiborne, The Irresistible Revolution: Living as an Ordinary Radical

“Indeed, our love is only worth what they accept! Those who speak has no humility! Who we see on the outside is a reflection of who we are on the inside! The man of god is one who strive to be just like Jesus! It's a humbling experience to hear the words of wisdom spoken from swine themselves.

It is the truth that lies behind not remembering. Every ounce of spit is the truth to your lies. And that intimates you so bad to your core.

You only hate someone because she came into your life not only changed it, but disrupted your whole concept and belief that you are unable to acknowledge the fact, you are a pathological lair.

Dedicated to my ex (Leng “KT Johnson” Xiong)”
― Candy Lee

“María Alejandrina Cervantes, about whom we used to say that she would only go to sleep once and that would be to die, was the most elegant and the most tender woman I have ever known, and the most serviceable in bed, but she was also the most strict.”
― Gabriel García Márquez

“All singers were half mad. In songs the hero always saved the maiden from the monster's castle. But life was not a song... And there are no heroes here; only whores.”
― George R.R. Martin, A Dance with Dragons

“I let my head drop back against his shoulder.

I let go of the part of me that heard their words- whore, whore, whore-

Let go of the part that said those words alongside them- traitor, liar, whore-

And I just became.

I became the music, and the drums, and the wild, dark thing in the High Lord's arms.

His eyes were wholly glazed- and not with power or rage. Something red-hot and edged with glittering darkness exploded in my mind.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Mist and Fury

“Treat a whore like a lady and a lady like a whore.”
― Wilson Mizner

“The red discharge between a woman’s legs, the pain of no
scar, the misery of no wound, that either leads her to extreme
shame or a child, which I reckon were the same to my mother. Is
that what is supposed to be the essence of womanhood?”
― Miramoon