“Nothing says you're sorry like a dead bunny.”
“He was like Superman, but with fangs and oddly impaired morals.”
“Mercy is not a proper Indian name."..........."Rash Coyote Who Runs With Wolf. We could shorten it to Dinner Woman.”
“Take a note: it usually works better if you wait until I do something stupid before getting mad at me.”
“Wolves eat coyotes," Gordon said[...] If he weren't an old man, I had some rude things I could have said to that.
"Yes," observed Adam blandly. "I do."
Yep. That was the one that came to mind. And he didn't even blush when he said it. Maybe Gordon would miss the double entendre. But he grinned cheerfully at Adam.”
“I can turn into a coyote," I said. "My mom tells me I must get it from my father."
Calvin's jaw dropped, then his face froze. "Your mother was a white woman," he said urgently. "You can't turn into a coyote."
"Can, too," I said indignantly. It was one thing for me to tell him he was lying--I knew I was right. It was an entirely different matter for him to tell me I was lying.
"Can't."
"Can."
"Can't"
"Can, too."
"Mercy," Adam said with an exaggerated patience tinged with humor. He knew I was doing it on purpose. That was okay but he wasn't angry anymore.
"Cannot," said Calvin.
"Knock it off, both of you. Neither of you is five.”
“No-pocket jeans are only slightly less irritating than thong underwear.”
“He stopped what he was doing and pulled out his magic phone.
Okay, the phone wasn't magic, but it does things my computer struggles with.”
“I woke in the morning to the sound of Adam's stomach growling under my ear.
"Sorry," he said. "Too many changes and not enough food."
I patted his hard belly and kissed it. "Poor thing," I told it. "Doesn't Adam treat you right? No worries, I'll go feed you."
My head bounced when Adam laughed.”
“Someday, I'm going to meet some supernatural creature who tells me everything I should know up front and in a forthright manner - but I'm not going to hold my breath.”
“Things change whether you want them to, or not--unless you are dead. Don't hold so hard to the past that you die with it.”
“I like that people can just look at you and know that you are taken, that you are mine.” He closed his eyes and laughed. “And yes, I know that sentiment is at the top of the Women’s Liberation Movement’s list of things not to say to a modern woman.”
“Mine. He was mine, and not even death would take him from me—not if I could help it.”
“Are we going to Portland?" I asked. "Or Multnomah Falls?"
He smiled at me. "Go to sleep."
I waited three seconds. "Are we there yet?"
His smile widened, and the last of the usual tension melted from his face. For a smile like that, I'd...do anything.”
“Trouble seems to follow me around, waiting to club me with a tire iron.”
“Son of a bitch. I would kill him. I didn't care if he was Coyote or the son of Satan. He was a dead man walking.”
“Death is not such a bad thing. What would be a bad thing would be living without challenges. Without knowing defeat, we cannot know what victory is. There is no life without death.”
“Mmm, he rumbled into my ear. I thought that being married meant that I never go to bed hungry.”
“Mercy," he said,"in a fair fight between near equals, I'll back you every time. It's the demons, vampires, and river devils I worry about, and I'm working on that.”
“All change brings bad things and good things to replace the bad and good things that were before. It is natural to look back and say it was better before—but that does not make it true. Different is not worse. It is just different.”
“Some of the fae have an odd idea of bride send-offs," he explained "including, according to Zee, kidnapping." "I forgot about that." And I was appalled because I knew better. "Bran and Samuel are probably more of a danger than any of the fae," I told him. "Someday, I'll tell you about some of the more spectaculare wedding antics Samuel's told me about." Some of them made kidnapping look mild.”
“I used my history degree about twice a year whether I needed to or not.”
“It was complicated. I understood it, mostly, but I had to think a little sideways to do it.”
“Feeling scared yet? Want to go somewhere safe?" "It won't help, will it? We'd just run into Godzilla or the Vampire from Hell. Trouble just follows you around." "Hey, Trouble. Let's find out what your mysterious Indian wanted us to know.”
“I suppose we must work on being gracious and grateful until we can do for ourselves. Someday the wheel of fate will put us in a position to be of use to them, and we will remember how much easier it is to give help than it is to accept it.”
“I didn't like anyone except me having their hands all over him. There had been possession in Wolf's touch, and Adam belonged to me.”
“Usually the people I do know are sufficient to spawn any number of nightmares without inventing any.”
“You okay now ?" he asked.
"Okay."
He tightened his arms and lifted me off my feet. "Mercy?" he growled into my ear. I wrapped my legs around his waist. " Yeah" , I said. "Me too.”
“For all the things we've seen... my goodness, the world still has more to show us, doesn't it?”
“Oh, Jason, I couldn't get my locker open...I know, I tried twisting it right, then left, but it wouldn't budge. I guess I'm just not strong enough. Could you help me? Please? Oh, great. Oh, Jason, you're so strong...
Seriously? That was me now?
On the other hand , a guy was following me.”
“Defenestration,” I said. “‘The act of throwing someone through a window.”
“Mas, logo ao outro dia, seus parceiros,
Todos nus e da cor da escura treva,
Decendo pelos ásperos outeiros,
As peças vem buscar que estoutro leva.
Domésticos já tanto e companheiros
Se nos mostram, que fazem que se atreva
Fernão Veloso a ir ver da terra o trato
E partir-se co eles pelo mato.
É Veloso no braço confiado
E, de arrogante, crê que vai seguro;
Mas, sendo um grande espaço já passado,
Em que algum bom sinal saber procuro,
Estando, a vista alçada, co cuidado
No aventureiro, eis pelo monte duro
Aparece e, segundo ao mar caminha,
Mais apressado do que fora, vinha.
O batel de Coelho foi depressa
Polo tomar; mas, antes que chegasse,
Um Etíope ousado se arremessa
A ele, por que não se lhe escapasse.
Outro e outro lhe saem; vê-se em presa
Veloso, sem que alguém lhe ali ajudasse,
Acudo eu logo, e, enquanto o remo aperto
Se mostra um bando negro descoberto.
Da espessa nuvem setas e pedradas
Chovem sobre nós outros, sem medida,
E não foram ao vento em vão deitadas,
Que esta perna trouxe eu dali ferida;
Mas nós, como pessoas magoadas,
A reposta lhe demos tão tecida,
Que em mais que nos barretes se suspeita
Que a cor vermelha levam desta feita.
E, sendo já Veloso em salvamento,
Logo nos recolhemos pera a armada,
Vendo a malícia feia e rudo intento
Da gente bestial, bruta e malvada,
De quem nenhum milhor conhecimento
Pudemos ter da Índia desejada
Que estarmos inda muito longe dela.
E assi tornei a dar ao vento a vela.
Disse então a Veloso um companheiro
(Começando-se todos a sorrir):
"Oula, Veloso amigo, aquele outeiro
É milhor de decer que de subir.”
“Creating art is a lonely task, which is why we introverts revel in it, but when we have fans looming over us, it becomes loneliness of a different sort. We become cage animals watched by zoo-goers, expected to perform lest the crowd grow bored or angry. It's not always bad. Sometimes we do well, and the cage feels more like a pedestal”
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