Quotes Jim Butcher - page 4
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I'm pretty sure lurking in a dark alley to mug me with your apology isn't the usual way to go about saying you're sorry. But I didn't read that Mars-Venus book, so who knows.
My head was throbbing, and my hands were shaking, but I went down the ladder to my workroom - and started figuring out how to rip someone's heart out of his chest from fifty miles away. Who says I never do anything fun on a Friday night?
Hers was a beauty so pure that it was nearly painful to behold--Athena heading out on a Friday night.
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I followed him through the halls of the enormous church until we got to the staff's kitchen. He went to the fridge, opened it, and came out with a bottle of bourbon. He poured some into a coffee cup, drank it down, and poured some more. He offered me the bottle. No, thanks. Aren't you supposed to drink vodka? Aren't you supposed to wear a pointy hat and ride on a flying broomstick? Touche, I said.
I didn't want to believe that killing was deep inside of me. I didn't want to think about the part of me that took a dark joy in gathering all the power it could and using it as I saw fit, everything else be damned. There was power to be had in hatred, too, in anger and in lust, in selfishness and in pride. And I knew that there was some dark corner of me that would enjoy using magic for killing—and then long for more. That was black magic, and it was easy to use. Easy and fun. Like Legos.
Mab turned back to me and eyed me up and down. She quirked one eyebrow, very slightly, somehow conveying layers of disapproval toward multiple aspects of my appearance, conduct, and situation, and said, 'Finally.' 'There’s been a lot on my mind,' I replied. 'It seems unlikely that your cares will lighten,' Queen Mab replied. 'Improve your mind.'
In the action business, when you don't want to say you ran like a mouse, you call it 'taking cover.' It's more heroic.
All power is the same. Magic. Physical strength. Economic strength. Political strength. It all serves a single purpose-it gives its possessor a broader spectrum of choices. It creates alternative courses of action.
I lunged, low and quick, and drove about a foot of cold steel into his danglies. Hey, I don't care what kind of fearie or mortal or hideous creature you are. If you've got danglies, and can loose them, that's the kind of sight that makes you reconsider the possible genitalia-related ramifications of your actions real damned quick.
Yeah, but I forgot to take my George Orwell-shaped multivitamins along with my breakfast bowl of Big Brother Os this morning.
So we get a plan," I said. "Any suggestions?" "Blow up the building," Kincaid said without looking up. "That works good for vampires. Then soak what's left in gasoline. Set it on fire. Then blow it all up again." "For future reference, I was sort of hoping for a suggestion that didn't sound like it came from that Bolshevik Muppet with all the dynamite.
Then you know that Sam was the true hero of the tale,' Sayna said. 'That he faced far greater and more terrible foes than he ever should have had to face, and did so with courage. That he went alone into a black and terrible land, stormed a dark fortress, and resisted the most terrible temptation of his world for the sake of the friend he loved. That in the end, it was his actions and his actions alone that made it possible for light to overcome darkness.
Death is only frightening from the near side.