Category: Quotations Page 15 of 28

Highlights from January: Lines Worth Repeating

Highlights from the Month
Here’s a collection of my favorite phrases/sentences/paragraphs from last month that I haven’t already used for something. (I probably will skip audiobooks, my transcription skills aren’t what they should be).

Apparently, the theme for January is: Coffee.

Family Business

Family Business by S. J. Rozan

I’d have snorted, but that’s my mother’s signature response, and I’m trying to avoid it.

“I’ve spent the afternoon online trying to look under Jackson Ting’s rocks, and I can’t even find his rocks.”

“I love it when you talk dirty.”

“You’re the more experienced investigator in this partnership, and I’m always trying to learn from you.”

Not that Chinatown doesn’t still have corruption, self-dealing, and general evil. But now it’s more like everywhere else.”

“Meaning?”

“Small-time crime’s still all over the place—illegal gambling, people getting mugged, merchants cheating customers—but the big-ticket stuff has gotten more… abstract. Cerebral. White collar. And more integrated with the rest of the city. Your corruption is now our corruption.”

“The melting pot, a beautiful thing.”

“Ah. Now there you might be onto something.”

“I’m not just a pretty face, you know. In fact I’m not any kind of a pretty face.”

“Fishing for compliments never works.”

“It does when you do it.”

“Because I deserve them.”


Bloodlines

Bloodlines by Peter Hartog

EVI [Engineered Virtual Intellect] controlled everything, right down to the lunch menu. To some, it was scary, but the machines hadn’t taken over just yet.

I had no idea what they were waiting for.

I live by a few simple rules, one of which is when someone offers you coffee, you say yes. Unless that someone is trying to kill you, in which case you accept the coffee under advisement.

Adding caffeine to my frayed nerves was probably not one of my brightest ideas. I had a penchant for collecting bad habits and decided not to turn a new leaf just then.

“What do you know of genetic resequencing and engineering?” Besim asked.

“About as much as the next guy,” I replied. “Meaning, nothing.”


Where the Drowned Girls Go

Where the Drowned Girls Go by Seanan McGuire

“Heroism is addictive. Mybe that’s why it sounds so much like ‘heroin.'”


Nice Dragons Finish Las

Nice Dragons Finish Last by Rachel Aaron

“We bend the rules of the universe on a daily basis. Presumptuousness is the base line for entry.”

He should be focusing on how to appease his own family so he could remain alive and uneaten, not worrying about his conscience. Real dragons didn’t have consciences, anyway. His certainly hadn’t done him any good.

Beside him, Svena was observing the back and forth with the sort of bored impatience of a sports caster watching a veteran boxer taking on a volunteer from the audience.


The Hobbit

The Hobbit, or There and Back Again by J.R.R. Tolkein

It does not do to leave a live dragon out of your calculations, if you live near him.


Bye Bye Baby

Robert B. Parker’s Bye Bye Baby by Ace Atkins

The coffee tasted as if it had been made fresh in the last week or two. But I drank it anyway.


Reconstruction

Reconstruction by Mick Herron

Some days, it would be better if you’d stayed in bed.

No, there was a level deeper than that—some days it would be better if, the night before, you’d reached some previously unattainable plateau of drunkenness; a level at which you didn’t simply sleep through the following day, but it didn’t technically exist—it was a hole in your calendar, forever out of reach.

Even now, with rush hour fading, people piled past like lemmings. Which, she’d lately read, weren’t the suicidal types legend painted; the abrupt declines in their population less to do with mass clifftop dives than with hungry predators—arctic foxes, owls and the like. Which was more realistic, but disappointing too. Suicide had been the one thing everyone knew about lemmings. Now it turned out they didn’t even have that going for them. If they weren’t depressed before, that should do it.


How to Save a Superhero

How to Save a Superhero by Ruth Freeman

“You’ve had lots of adventures for someone your age,” said Ms. Swift quietly, “maybe not all bad, but not all good either. You know, I think that’s why I came to love books so much. When I was young, I wasn’t very happy. My parents were older and very strict. They didn’t have much time for me, but I found I could always go somewhere else, somewhere wonderful, between the covers of a book. And one of my very favorite places was the world of the river in this book [The Wind in the Willows].”


The Jackals

The Jackals by Adam Shaw

In hindsight, I probably should have noted that this meant to stay away, but clues aren’t easy to pick up on when you’re twenty-two.

Word traveled from one person to another like head lice or fleas…

Next to one of them sits a small Power Rangers action figure I snuck up there when we moved. Despite Lauren checking on those plants every day, it took her three months to notice it. As a reward, she said, I could keep it up there.

The coffee comes at me like a drunk aunt coming in for a kiss at a family reunion, and it hits me like a hot slap to the face.

(Image by DaModernDaVinci from Pixabay)

The Friday 56 for 1/28/22: The Jackals by Adam Shaw

The Friday 56This is a weekly bloghop hosted by Freda’s Voice.

RULES:
The Friday 56 Grab a book, any book.
The Friday 56 Turn to Page 56 or 56% on your ereader. If you have to improvise, that is okay.
The Friday 56 Find a snippet, short and sweet.
The Friday 56 Post it

from 56% of:
The Jackals

The Jackals by Adam Shaw

As soon as I step out the front door, I exhale. The chilly downtown air hits me all at once, and I’m forced to recognize the beads of sweat resting in my hairline, the moistness of Rob’s post-workout filth on my shirt, the goosebumps traveling up and down my arms. I quit my job. Apparently, I’m moving.

“Jack!”

Beth is smiling. Her pale skin shines against the red brick of the wall behind her. Her hair is down, and she’s wearing the same red flannel she wore the day I got back to Lafayette. A couple golden strands cling to it near her right shoulder, but she either doesn’t notice them or doesn’t care. It only takes her eyes a couple seconds to notice the box of belongings under my arm, though, the bat signal of a corporate walk of shame, and her smile disappears.

The Friday 56 for 1/21/22: Nice Dragons Finish Last by Rachel Aaron

The Friday 56This is a weekly bloghop hosted by Freda’s Voice.

RULES:
The Friday 56 Grab a book, any book.
The Friday 56 Turn to Page 56 or 56% on your ereader. If you have to improvise, that is okay.
The Friday 56 Find a snippet, short and sweet.
The Friday 56 Post it

from Page 56 of:
Nice Dragons Finish Last

Nice Dragons Finish Last by Rachel Aaron

“…believe it or not, I don’t normally get into back-alley brawls with strange men.”

“Well, if anyone deserved breaking your ‘no slamming people into walls’ streak over, it would be Bixby’s idiots.”

“I only got half of them,” he reminded her. “You did the other. Credit where credit is due.”

Marci laughed. “If by ‘credit’ you mean ‘assault and battery charges,’ then I guess you’re right.” She shook her head and turned to flash him a warm smile. “You know, we make a pretty good team.”

Julius felt that smile all the way to his toes.

The Friday 56 for 1/14/21: Where the Drowned Girls Go by Seanan McGuire

The Friday 56This is a weekly bloghop hosted by Freda’s Voice.

RULES:
The Friday 56 Grab a book, any book.
The Friday 56 Turn to Page 56 or 56% on your ereader. If you have to improvise, that is okay.
The Friday 56 Find a snippet, short and sweet.
The Friday 56 Post it

from Page 56 (and a little bit of 57) of:
Where the Drowned Girls Go

Where the Drowned Girls Go by Seanan McGuire

The matron narrowed her eyes. “Can scarecrows talk?” she repeated, tone clearly implying that there was only one right answer, and it wasn’t the one she expected from Emily.

…Silence and blending into the background were Cora’s forte. She was good at it. But she was also a hero, and heroes didn’t stand idly by while someone smaller was victimized.

“Scarecrows don’t talk,” she scoffed, loudly enough and clearly enough to guarantee she would be overheard. The matron stiffened. Cora acted like she hadn’t noticed, continuing blithely, “They’re just straw stuffed into old potato sacks. If scarecrows could talk, that would mean straw could talk, and if straw could talk, grass would be able to talk, and no one could mow their lawns.”

The Friday 56 for 1/7/21: Bloodlines by Peter Hartog

The Friday 56This is a weekly bloghop hosted by Freda’s Voice.

RULES:
The Friday 56 Grab a book, any book.
The Friday 56 Turn to Page 56 or 56% on your ereader. If you have to improvise, that is okay.
The Friday 56 Find a snippet, short and sweet.
The Friday 56 Post it.

from Page 56% of:
Bloodlines

Bloodlines by Peter Hartog

“What the f*** are you doing, Holliday?” Deacon hollered from the kitchen.

He leaned against one of the tables with arms folded across his chest.

“It’s what we police-types like to call ‘looking for clues,’” I retorted, irritated by the question. “Shake down the premises, go through his sock drawer, locate the virtual workstation, and mine it for information. You should try it sometime.”

“I get that,” he replied amiably. “But I doubt a vampire’s gonna hide its secrets inside an office, do you?”

The Friday 56 for 12/24/21: A Dream About Lightning Bugs by Ben Folds

The Friday 56This is a weekly bloghop hosted by Freda’s Voice.

RULES:
The Friday 56 Grab a book, any book.
The Friday 56 Turn to Page 56 or 56% on your ereader. If you have to improvise, that is okay.
The Friday 56 Find a snippet, short and sweet.
The Friday 56 Post it.

from Page 56 of:
A Dream About Lightning Bugs

A Dream About Lightning Bugs: A Life of Music and Cheap Lessons by Ben Folds

A few years ago, I volunteered to be a substitute teacher for my kids’ seventh-grade music class. Just for a day. That’s all I had to do. I knew most of the kids in the class anyway. It should have been a breeze.

It wasn’t.

If I didn’t fully appreciate the public school music teachers of my youth before 11 a.m. that day, by noon I damn well did. As I stood before the class, a lifetime of experience performing in front of people went straight out the window. The forty-five-minute affair was absolutely exhausting. Kids, 1—Folds, 0. Animals, every one of them! I am no music teacher and I bow to each and every man and woman who is. I especially bow to the ones who can see that these children are not animals and recognize which ones could use a push, or a hand, like I did when I was younger.

The Friday 56 for 12/17/21: Risen by Benedict Jacka

The Friday 56This is a weekly bloghop hosted by Freda’s Voice.

RULES:
The Friday 56 Grab a book, any book.
The Friday 56 Turn to Page 56 or 56% on your ereader. If you have to improvise, that is okay.
The Friday 56 Find a snippet, short and sweet.
The Friday 56 Post it

from Page 56 of:
Risen

Risen by Benedict Jacka

“Verus,” he said, crossing the path to meet me.

I nodded.

Talisid glanced at the long sightlines around us, the Greenway stretching in both directions with the Olympic Stadium – to one side and the view over London to the other, “A little exposed.”

“Hiding isn’t really an option for me these days,” I said. “How can help you?”

Our relationship had changed, and I could feel it in the way Talisid addressed me. For all the years I’d been meeting like this with Talisid, he’d always been the more powerful. He’d never used if to threaten me; he was too courteous for that, in his well-bred way. But always, in our dealings, Talisid had been the one to set the terms. Not anymore.

The Friday 56 for 12/10/21: Grave Reservations by Cherie Priest

The Friday 56This is a weekly bloghop hosted by Freda’s Voice.

RULES:
The Friday 56 Grab a book, any book.
The Friday 56 Turn to Page 56 or 56% on your ereader. If you have to improvise, that is okay.
The Friday 56 Find a snippet, short and sweet.
The Friday 56 Post it

from Page 56 of:
Grave Reservations

Grave Reservations by Cherie Priest

“You’re really going out on a limb here, aren’t you?” she asked.

He shook his head and gazed balefully at the clippings. “This case has never made any sense, and we’ve never had any real leads, Something about it just … stuck in my craw, as they say.”

“Who says that?”

“My late wife’s family, in North Carolina. They have a wide selection of colorful expressions in circulation out there.” He used his index finger to move a few of the paper scraps around. “Consensus is that the murders were part of an interrupted robbery … but that explanation never felt right. This isn’t that kind of hotel, you know what I mean? We’re in the wrong part of town for a cheap shakedown, and this isn’t the kind of place that a tech CEO would choose for legitimate business activities.”

The restaurant manager sauntered by with a plate of pungent chicken wings and a lifted eyebrow.

“No offense,” Grady called over his shoulder.

The Friday 56 for 12/3/21: Love & Bullets: Megabomb Edition by Nick Kolakowski

The Friday 56This is a weekly bloghop hosted by Freda’s Voice.

RULES:
The Friday 56 Grab a book, any book.
The Friday 56 Turn to Page 56 or 56% on your ereader. If you have to improvise, that is okay.
The Friday 56 Find a snippet, short and sweet.
The Friday 56 Post it

from 56% of:
Love & Bullets: Megabomb Edition

Love & Bullets: Megabomb Edition by Nick Kolakowski

His eyes rolled from side to side, trying to lock on me, but I made a point of standing directly behind him.

“What now?” he asked.

I scanned the empty corridor. “Where’s your partner?”

“What?”

“The guy you’re on shift with.” He shook his head. “Had to leave.”

I would choose to believe that for the moment. “Where’s that FBI guy?”

“He had to leave, too.” Another swallow. “Somebody called something in. Something big.”

What was bigger than me wiping out most of this county’s police force, along with its corrupt sheriff and probably a few townies? Suddenly I understood how Elvis must have felt when he heard about the Beatles for the first time, overshadowed by something far bigger. I was tempted to ask about the nature of the emergency, but my soul would have been crushed if he’d said my infamy was eclipsed by a shootout at the local meth lab.

The Friday 56 for 11/26/21: All the Lonely People by Mike Gayle

The Friday 56This is a weekly bloghop hosted by Freda’s Voice.

RULES:
The Friday 56 Grab a book, any book.
The Friday 56 Turn to Page 56 or 56% on your ereader. If you have to improvise, that is okay.
The Friday 56 Find a snippet, short and sweet.
The Friday 56 Post it

from Page 56 of:
All the Lonely People

All the Lonely People by Mike Gayle

The sense of relief Hubert felt when he saw Joyce walking toward him as he waited outside the entrance to the Regal was enormous. Her desire to go to the pictures with him hadn’t been an elaborate dream, a figment of his imagination, or a practical joke. She was here, she was really here, and the sight of her made him grin from ear to ear. She was, he thought, even more beautiful freed from the confines of her Hamilton’s uniform of demure black dress with dainty white bow and lacy collar. Sporting a navy-blue duster coat over a flowery lemon dress with green heels, she was a vision of spring and Hubert told her so.

“Thank you,” she replied. “The dress is new. I made it myself from a pattern in Vogue. Mum wasn’t sure about the color but I think it’s cheerful, don’t you?”

Hubert smiled.

“It’s like a piece of sunshine on a dull gray day.”

Joyce gave him an admiring glance.

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