“I need to get at Fate’s design in this. What exactly does it want of me? Did it pick me? Because Miss Brown…” he began with a calm warning. “I worked for Fate in the past. I slaved my ass off for her. Then she handed me over to Irony, a cruel bastard with a shit eating grin, and I worked for him too. I slaved for both, all my life, without stop, without wavering. I was a good employee to the universe. And then one day, I quit,” he said. “I’ve been MIA for near a decade. And it seems… I’ve been found.” She”
― Lucian Bane, quote from Reginald Bones: Part One
“You sound defensive. Do you think everybody is accusing you? Does your guilt demand everybody accuse you?” She looked down. “I don’t even need to see your eyes to know they’re loaded with shame.” She”
― Lucian Bane, quote from Reginald Bones: Part One
“How you like them stupids, Mr. Bones? Oh, your eyes say not a whole lot,” she mocked. Her breathless words said she’d taken a big risk and was prepared to accept the consequences. “Not so fun having your demons poked at, huh? Maybe I’ll get my tongue in your mouth next time and really tickle your devils.”
― Lucian Bane, quote from Reginald Bones: Part One
“Little shit. You can jack off, Bones said. As long as you’re not thinking of a woman. “Awwww, thank you Bonesy. Maybe we can pick up the latest edition of Playdog magazine. I bet the bald pussycats really get the hummer going.” Bones”
― Lucian Bane, quote from Reginald Bones: Part One
“Are you crazy?" The unexpected question threw him a moment. "I guess… if I was, I might not know it. And if I did know… I might not want to say." She”
― Lucian Bane, quote from Reginald Bones: Part One
“Bones informed dryly, watching him arrange his study tools just perfectly. You know there is a name for what you're doing. I believe it's called ... Bones tapped his temple. Something, something, disorder. "Very funny," Reginald muttered in a sing song tone. "You should try actually paying attention when I study. If you did, you'd know it's called obsessive compulsive disorder, or OCD, but that's not what I'm doing. This is simply me being exactly orderly." Right.”
― Lucian Bane, quote from Reginald Bones: Part One
“Scratch her arm? “No, she’s picking at her skin. It's a symptom," Reginald said. "One in the OCD family. It's called Dermatillomania or Excoriation. Often due to stress or anxiety, or depression." Or an STD.”
― Lucian Bane, quote from Reginald Bones: Part One
“Time was nothing. Seconds were days, were years, were the breaths that caught between their mouths and the bite of Neil's fingernails against his palms, the scrape of teeth against his lower lip and the warm slide of a tongue against his.”
― Nora Sakavic, quote from The King's Men
“This is how people behave when their dailiness is destroyed, when for a few moments they see, plain and unadorned, one of the great shaping forces of life. Calamity fixes them with her mesmeric eye, and they begin to scoop and paw at the rubble of their days, trying to pluck the memory of the quotidian - a toy, a book, a garment, even a photograph - from the garbage heaps of the irretrievable, of their overwhelming loss.”
― Salman Rushdie, quote from The Ground Beneath Her Feet
“All those beings who revealed truths to me and who were no longer there, seemed to me to have lived a life from which I alone profited and as though they had died for me. It was sad for me to think that in my book, my love which was once everything to me, would be so detached from a being that various readers would apply it textually to the love they experienced for other women. But why should I be horrified by this posthumous infidelity, that this man or that should offer unknown women as the object of my sentiment, when that infidelity, that division of love between several beings began with my life and long before I began writing? I had indeed suffered successively through Gilberte, through Mme de Guermantes, through Albertine. Successively also I had forgotten them and only my love, dedicated at different times to different beings, had lasted. I had anticipated the profanation of my memories by unknown readers. I was not far from being horrified with myself as, perhaps, some nationalist party might be in whose name hostilities had been provoked and who alone had benefited from a war in which many noble victims had suffered and died without even knowing the issue of the struggle which, for my grandmother, would have been such a complete reward. And the single consolation she never knew, that at last I had set to work, was, such being the fate of the dead, that though she could not rejoice in my progress she had at least been spared consciousness of my long inactivity, of the frustrated life which had been such a pain to her. And certainly there were many others besides my grandmother and Albertine from whom I had assimilated a word, a glance, but of whom as individual beings I remembered nothing; a book is a great cemetery in which, for the most part, the names upon the tombs are effaced.”
― Marcel Proust, quote from Time Regained
“-Atención -decía Bobby Thompson-. Éste es uno de los lobos que camina entre ustedes.”
― Richard Bachman, quote from The Running Man
“As bread is sweet to us,” he said, “so is the blood of the poor to the rich who drink it.” It”
― Mario Puzo, quote from The Sicilian
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