Chris Fuhrman · 200 pages
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“Trouble is our only defense against boredom.”
― Chris Fuhrman, quote from The Dangerous Lives of Altar Boys
“Every adult is the creation of a child.”
― Chris Fuhrman, quote from The Dangerous Lives of Altar Boys
“I want people to see and hear the things I see and hear. And I want them to remember how it was when they were children. I don't want them to grow up entirely.
Every adult is the creation of a child. My own signature, that identifying scrawl required by parcel postmen and valued by a handful of comic-book fans, that signature was devised by a thirteen-year-old boy who thought I'd want to seem important one day. I am stuck with it. My life is the result of that boy's dreams and limitations, and of the company that boy kept a long time ago, back when things could still happen for the first time.”
― Chris Fuhrman, quote from The Dangerous Lives of Altar Boys
“The more dangerous life is, the better. Scary equals important, right?”
― Chris Fuhrman, quote from The Dangerous Lives of Altar Boys
“I mean, do you believe in God or what? “ “Not the name-brand God they serve here.” Tim said. “That old guy with the beard, granting wishes out of the clouds to whoever says the most rosaries. That’s bullshit. I believe in everything.”
― Chris Fuhrman, quote from The Dangerous Lives of Altar Boys
“We tried not to look at each other for a minute, smiling each time we did. Except for the tiny scars on her wrists, she seemed perfect to me, and so I loved the scars, because they meant that I could save her from something, and save myself”
― Chris Fuhrman, quote from The Dangerous Lives of Altar Boys
“The lemming types came out of their houses with flashlights. Going to light up the world with those flashlights, I guess." He laughed. "I stopped them all from watching Happy Days. Forced their IQs up a couple notches.”
― Chris Fuhrman, quote from The Dangerous Lives of Altar Boys
“Margie Flynn was in my head like a bad cold, blurring everything. It was a new kind of loneliness, a hurt I couldn’t stop picking at.”
― Chris Fuhrman, quote from The Dangerous Lives of Altar Boys
“Jacob, is something wrong? Is Isabella okay?”
“Probably. She is not well today. It could be a normal thing for a human female, but since she is usually as resistant to common ailments now as we are, she is nervous. I figured Gideon could ease her mind.”
Noah missed the wince that crossed his friend’s face that would have given away the indignant argument flying through the Enforcer’s thoughts. Jacob’s female counterpart huffily took umbrage to his claims of exactly who it was that was nervous and who had insisted on seeking Gideon, because it certainly had not been her.
“Tell her I hope she feels better,” Noah said, his fondness for Bella quite clear in his tone. “Bear with her, old friend. She’s breaking new ground. It can be pretty frightening to play Eve for an entire race.”
“Do not worry. When it comes to my Bella, I would do anything to see to her happiness. That includes making others do anything to see to her happiness,” Jacob said. He meant the words, of course, but he was hoping they’d help sooth someone’s bristling pride.
“I’m sure Gideon is going to love that,” Noah laughed.
Jacob grinned, altering gravity so that he began to float up from the floor.
“If you see Gideon before I do, will you tell him to come to Bella?”
“Of course. Tell her I said to start behaving like a real Druid or I—” Noah was cut off by a sharp hand motion and a warning expression from the Enforcer. It came a little too late, however, if Jacob’s pained expression was anything to judge by.
“There goes your invitation for our wedding,” Jacob muttered. “And I think I am close behind you.”
“I would believe that if I were not the one who is supposed to perform it and if you were not the father of her otherwise illegitimate child,” Noah countered loudly, clearly talking to the person beyond his immediate perception.
“Ow! Damn it, Noah!” Jacob grumbled, rubbing his temples as Bella’s scream of frustration echoed through him. “Do you remember I am the one who has to go home to her, would you?”
“Sorry, my friend,” Noah chuckled, not looking at all repentant. “Now get out of here, Enforcer. Find Gideon and tend to your beautiful and charming mate. Be sure to mention to her that I said she looks ravishing and that her pregnancy has made her shine like a precious jewel.”
“Noah, if you were not my King, I would kill you for this.”
“Yes, well, as your King I would have you arrested for treason just for saying that. Luckily for you, Jacob, you are the man who would arrest you, and the woman who also has the power to do so is sure to punish you far better than I can when you get home.”
“You are all heart, my liege,” Jacob said wryly.
“Thank you. Now leave, before I begin to expound on the disrespect that this mouthy little female of yours seems to have engendered my formerly loyal subjects.”
― Jacquelyn Frank, quote from Gideon
“She felt him shifting himself under her and around her, rearranging himself, until she was being held in a real embrace. She opened blurring eyes to find that he had tucked her between his forelegs with his neck curled around her.
"Shhh-" he said, as she closed her eyes and threw her arms around his warm, soft, slippery neck. "I know, I know. It's all horrible. Just go ahead and cry, Andie. Go ahead and let it out. I think you've been holding it in too long."
She couldn't have stopped the flood now if she'd wanted to, and she really didn't want to. He was right. She'd been holding it in too long. She sobbed against his neck, eyes streaming and burning, throat raw and sore, chest aching. She babbled between the sobs, nothing really coherent, but just-
She'd wanted a mother. She'd wanted to make Cassiopeia proud of her so that she'd 'be' that mother. Show her that even her if her daughter wasn't like 'her,' she was still worth something. Was useful. Could stand at the Queen's side and-
That was all she wanted.
And her mother found her so unworthy that Cassiopeia threw her away to feed a monster, like so much offal.
"Oh, Andie," Peri sighed in her ear. "Oh, my poor girl. It's Cassiopeia that's unworthy of 'you.”
― Mercedes Lackey, quote from One Good Knight
“[H]e was one of those people who got to the top of an organisation through luck, connections, the indulgence of superiors and that sort of carelessness towards others that the easily impressed termed ruthlessness and those of a less gullible nature called sociopathy. But sometimes, just through his sheer unthinking brusqueness and inability to think through the consequences of a remark, he said what everybody else was only thinking. A comic poet working in obscene doggerel.”
― Iain M. Banks, quote from The Algebraist
“And he worked himself, worked himself. He had made up his mind to be President, and he was demonic in his drive.”
― Robert A. Caro, quote from Master of the Senate
“The method he adopted in building the bridge was as follows. He took a pair of piles a foot and a half thick, slightly pointed at the lower ends and of a length adapted to the varying depth of the river, and fastened them together two feet apart. These he lowered into the river with appropriate tackle, placed them in position at right angles to the bank, and drove them home with pile-drivers, not vertically, as piles are generally fixed, but obliquely, inclined in the direction of the current. Opposite these, forty feet lower down the river, another pair of piles was planted, similarly fixed together, and inclined in the opposite direction to the current. The two pairs were then joined by a beam two feet wide, whose ends fitted exactly into the spaces between the two piles forming each pair. The upper pair was kept at the right distance from the lower pair by means of iron braces, one of which was used to fasten each pile to the end of the beam. The pairs of piles being thus held apart, and each pair individually strengthened by a diagonal tie between the two piles, the whole structure was so rigid, that, in accordance with the laws of physics, the greater the force of the current, the more tightly were the piles held in position. A series of these piles and transverse beams was carried right across the stream and connected by lengths of timber running in the direction of the bridge; on these were laid poles and bundles of sticks. In spite of the strength of the structure, additional piles were fixed obliquely to each pair of the original piles along the whole length of the downstream side of the bridge, holding them up like a buttress and opposing the force of the current. Others were fixed also a little above the bridge, so that if the natives tried to demolish it by floating down tree-trunks or beams, these buffers would break the force of the impact and preserve the bridge from injury.”
― Gaius Julius Caesar, quote from The Conquest of Gaul
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