“As if she had summoned them, a flurry of stones flew out of the darkness, striking his mail, pinging off his helm. One hit his unprotected leg and he yelped and clutched it. That was a mistake. The second barrage was entirely directed at his legs.”
― Hilari Bell, quote from The Goblin Wood
“Cogswhallop glanced skeptically at the complex runes. "Are you sure this'll work, gen'ral?"
"Of course I'm sure-"
Ping. The silvery note echoed in the cramped room. Makenna felt her face turn scarlet.”
― Hilari Bell, quote from The Goblin Wood
“Did the priest you mentioned tell you about them? Or did he send you out to blunder along on your own?They're an odd lot. Half of them are soldiers, or priests in disgui- Ah.Is your priest with them?"
"No!" He snapped.
Ping. He jumped. He'd forgotten the bell.
"I mean, I don't know". Ping. "There is no particular priest."Ping. He bit his lip and fell silent.”
― Hilari Bell, quote from The Goblin Wood
“The lingering laughter fled from his eyes as he realized that he'd given himself away. "Where's Fiddle now?"
"Safe and cared for. Safer than you'll be if you don't answer my questions."
Ping.
He managed not to laugh, but it looked like a hard fight.
"Dung," Makenna muttered. the knight's expression changed to startled disapproval. A prig, as he? Maybe she could use that.
"I said you should let me handle this," Cogswhallop told her. "I'd have meant it.”
― Hilari Bell, quote from The Goblin Wood
“...You think I lead these people for my own whim? I lead these people, honorable knight, because they have no one but me. Because they came to me when the humans slaughtered their families and drove them out. And I'll keep this place safe for them no matter how much spying and lying and killing it takes. You've never been a commander, lordling, or you'd know that it's easy to prate about honor when you're not responsible for others' lives. But let me tell you a bit of truth--sometimes honor doesn't get it done.”
― Hilari Bell, quote from The Goblin Wood
“Well, I’ve learnt this much: it doesn’t matter
what it costs, it’s worth paying the price. You can’t live cheap
and you can’t live for nothing. Pay the price and be proud you’ve
paid it, that’s what I reckon.”
― John Marsden, quote from Darkness, Be My Friend
“You count the years until you get a varsity jersey, then you're a hero, an idol, a cocky bastard because in this town you can do no wrong. You win and win and you're the king of your own little world, then poof, it's gone. You play your last game and everybody cries. You can't believe it's over. Then another team comes right behind you and you're forgotten.”
― John Grisham, quote from Bleachers
“While it was irrational to bristle at the company of compatriots, one of the traits that Americans seem to share is a common dislike of running into one another in foreign countries. Perhaps it was having that mirror held up, reflecting an image so often loud, aggressive, and overweight. Irina didn’t have a big problem with being American herself (everyone has to come from somewhere, and you don’t get to choose), although, a second-generation Russian on her mother’s side, she had always presumed her nationality to have an opt-out clause. Maybe she”
― Lionel Shriver, quote from The Post-Birthday World
“So that means you are almost old enough to be my grandfather." Raj laughed, Your great, great, grandfather, more likely, but whose counting?”
― D.B. Reynolds, quote from Rajmund
“faster but the picture remained entirely static. The stillness of a deserted office descended and held steady as time rushed by. “When do the cleaners come in?” Reacher asked. “Just before midnight,” Froelich said. “That late?” “They’re night workers. This is a round-the-clock operation.” “And there’s nothing else visible before then?” “Nothing at all.” “So spool ahead. We get the picture.” Froelich operated the buttons and shuttled between fast-forward with snow on the screen and regular-speed playback with a picture to check the timecode. At eleven-fifty P.M. she let the tape run. The counter clicked ahead, a second at a time. At eleven fifty-two there was motion at the far end of the corridor. A team of three people emerged from the gloom. There were two women and a man, all of them wearing dark overalls. They looked Hispanic. They were all short and compact, dark-haired, stoic. The man was pushing a cart. It had a black garbage bag locked into a hoop at the front, and trays stacked with cloths and spray bottles on shelves at the rear. One of the women was carrying a vacuum cleaner. It rode on”
― Lee Child, quote from Without Fail
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