James Patterson · 405 pages
Rating: (82.5K votes)
“Basically, I have two speeds.... Hostile or smart-aleck. Your choice.”
“They turned to Angel. "We will call you Little One," the leader said, obviously deciding to dispense with the whole confusing name thing.
"Okay," said Angel agreeably. "I'll call you Guy in a White Lab Coat." He frowned.
"That can be his Indian name," I suggested.”
“What I said yesterday didn't mean anything! I love everyone in the flock! Plus, it was the Valium talking!"
"Uh-huh. You just keep telling yourself that. You looove me."
Max: (tries to punch him)
"Pick a tree. I'll go carve our initials in it."
Max: (screams and runs into bathroom)”
“Max, you're the last of the hybrids who still has...a soul.' ... 'She doesn't have soul,' Gazzy scoffed. 'Have you ever seen her dance?”
“You looove me. (holds out arms) You love me this much.”
“Tell me again what we're doing here," I said, running a continuous scan of our surroundings.
Fang popped some Cracker Jack into his mouth. "We're here to watch manly men do manly things."
I followed Fang's line of sight: He was watching the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders, who were not doing manly things, by any stretch of the imagination.”
“De tall, dark vun--dere's nothing special about him at all," ter Borcht said dismissively of Fang, who hadn't moved since the doctor had come in.
Well, he's a snappy dresser," I offered. One side of Fang's mouth quirked.”
“You don't speak much, do you?" ter Borcht said, circling him slowly.
Fittingly, Fang said nothing.
Vhy do you let a girl be de leader?" ter Borcht asked, a calculating look in his eye.
She's the tough one," Fang said.
Dang right, I thought proudly.
Is dere anysing special about you?" asked ter Borcht. "Anysing vorth saving?"
Fang pretended to think, gazing up at the ceiling. "Besides my fashion sense? I play a mean harmonica.”
“Fang: "There is one bright side to this."
Max: "Yeah? What's that?" The new and improved Erasers would mutilate us before they killed us?
Fang: *grins* You looove me. (holds out arms) You love me this much.
Max: My shriek of appalled rage would probably be heard in California, or maybe Hawaii.”
“Fang: “Let them blow up the world, and global-warm it, and pollute it. You and me and the others will be holed up somewhere, safe. We’ll come back out when they’re all gone, done playing their games of world domination."
Max: “That’s a great plan. Of course, by then we won’t be able to go outside because we’ll get fried by the lack of the ozone layer. We’ll be living at the bottom of the food chain because everything with flavor will be full of mercury or radiation or something! And there won’t be any TV or cable because all the people will be dead! So our only entertainment will be Gazzy singing the constipation song! And there won’t be amusement parks and museums and zoos and libraries and cute shoes! We’ll be like cavemen, trying to weave clothes out of plant fibers. We’ll have nothing! Nothing! All because you and the kids want to kick back in a La-Z-Boy during the most important time in history!”
Fang: “So maybe we should sign you up for a weaving class. Get a jump start on all those plant fibers.”
Max: "I HATE YOU!!!"
Fang: "NO YOU DOOOOOON'T!!"
Voice: "You two are crazy about each other.”
“I vill eat nine Snikuhs bahs visout bahfing”
“Fang felt a cold jolt, then dismissed it. Max wasn’t dead. He would know, somehow. He would have felt it. The world still felt the same to him; therefore, Max was still in it.”
“Meaning what? We're going to pretend nothing's going on? That's stupid. The only way to deal with any of this is to get it out in the open."
Have you been watching Oprah again?”
“Fang’s hand gently smoothed my hair off my neck. My breath froze in my chest, and every sense seemed hyperalert. His hand stroked my hair again, so softly, and then trailed across my neck and shoulder and down my back, making me shiver.
I looked up. 'What the heck are you doing?'
'Helping you change your mind,' he whispered, and then he leaned over, tilted my chin up, and kissed me.”
“What are you doing here?” [ndr prison]
Selling Girl Scout cookies,” I said. “Want some? The Samoas are terrific.”
(Max II to Max)”
“I don't damsel well. Distress, I can do. Damseling? Not so much.”
“So you have you price," I said with a mouthful of crumbs. "Your soul for a cookie." Fang made sure Dr. Martinez wasn't looking and then shot me the bird.”
“Max, if you survive your final test, can you steal me one of those magic outfits for me?"
I'll try to get one for each of us. Hey! 'If'?”
“Besides my great fashion sense? I play a mean harmonica.”
“We will destroy you,” the Flyboys droned. “You have no escape.” That was the most imaginative, threatening thing the whitecoats had programmed these ’droids to say? “Talk about lame,” Fang muttered.”
“Walking over to Iggy, he poked him with his shoe. "Does anysing on you vork properly?"
Iggy rubbed his forehead with one hand. "Well, I have a highly developed sense of irony."
Ter Borcht tsked. "You are a liability to your group. I assume you alvays hold onto someone's shirt, yes? Following dem closely?"
"Only when I'm trying to steal their dessert," Iggy said truthfully.”
“Sighing, she gave a brief nod. “I was supposed to win. I was supposed to finish you off. They never counted on you winning. And then you didn’t kill me. It was awful.”
“You’re welcome,” I said, feeling fresh anger ignite. “I’ll try not to humiliate you by letting you live next time.”
(Max II to Max)”
“I didn't think he was a robot...but I did wonder if his emotions had been designed out of him. Of course, with a guy, how could I tell? Ha ha!”
“I vill now destroy de Snickuhs bahs!"-Gazzy”
“Let's just say that if these scientist had been using their brilliance for good instead of evil, cars would run off water vapor and leave fresh compost behind them; no one would be hungry; no one would be ill; all buildings would be earthquake-, bomb-, and flood-proof; and the world's entire economy would have collapsed and been replaced by one based on the value of chocolate. ”
“You are avake, yah?" said a voice in a horribly recognizable accent.
"Yah," I muttered, rubbing my head. "And you are still a jerk, yah?”
“You really are a scary man,no really! If I had boots I would be quaking in them.”
“We would be outnumbered a couple hundred to two, by something worse than Erasers. I had no idea if the rest of the Flock would be able to help.
It was pretty much a suicide mission.
Again.
'There is one bright side to this,' said Fang.
'Yeah? What's that?' The new and improved Erasers would mutilate us before they killed us?
He grinned at me so unexpectedly that I forgot to flap for a second and dropped several feet. 'You looove me,' he crooned smugly. Holding his arms out wide, he added, 'You love me this much.'
My shriek of appalled rage could probably be heard in California, or maybe Hawaii.”
“And Max, I've put some scraps in a bowl for your dog," Mom said. "It's on the floor, by the back door."
The flock and I went still.
Uh-oh, I thought.
Total stomped up to me, his glare accusing. "A bowl on the floor!" he seethed. "Why don't you just chain me to a stake in the yard and throw me a bone!”
“Um, there's a girl meeting her friend,' he went on. 'Her friend is giving her an ice-cream cone. Oh-it's dripping. Huh. It, uh, dripped on her...chest.'
Iggy drew in a hissing breath.
It's gonna stain for sure,' the Gasman said. 'That's chocolate.'
Hmm,' Fang said, watching, the girl dab at her chest with a paper napkin.”
“Everybody has their moment of great opportunity in life. If you happen to miss the one you care about, then everything else becomes eerily easy.”
“Count on the best people outperforming the worst by about 10:1. • Count on the best performer being about 2.5 times better than the median performer. • Count on the half that are better-than-median performers outdoing the other half by more than 2:1.”
“Your guts also have about 100 million nerves, more than the number of nerves in your spinal cord or your entire peripheral nervous system.”
“People with well-developed emotional skills are also more likely to be content and effective in their lives, mastering the habits of mind that foster their own productivity; people who cannot marshal some control over their emotional life fight inner battles that sabotage their ability for focused work and clear thought.”
“I do not know about magic, but words are powerful things indeed.”
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