“An interesting thing happened today,” she said, giving me just enough time to get the word “hi” out of my mouth. “I opened the front door and there was a man on my doorstep. A big man. A very big, very black man.”
“Rachel —”
“You said it would be discreet. His T–shirt had the words ‘Klan Killer’ written on the front.”
“I —”
“And do you know what he said?”
I waited.
“He handed me a note from Louis and told me he was lactose intolerant. That was it. Note. Lactose intolerant. Nothing else. He’s coming to the reading with me. It was all I could do to get him to change his T–shirt. The new one reads ‘Black Death.’ I’m going to tell people it’s a rap band. Do you think it’s a rap band?”
I figured it was probably his occupation, but I didn’t say that. Instead, I said the only thing I could think of to say.
“Maybe you’d better buy some soy milk.”
She hung up without saying good–bye.”
― John Connolly, quote from The White Road
“You still carrying an arsenal in the trunk of your car?”
“Why, you need something?”
“No, but if your car is hit by lightning I’ll know where my lawn went.”
― John Connolly, quote from The White Road
“So what you gonna do?”
“Push a stick into the beehive and rustle up some bees. The Larousses are hosting a party today. I think we should avail ourselves of their hospitality.”
“We got an invite?”
“Has not having one ever stopped us before?”
“No, but sometimes I just like to be invited to shit, you know what I’m sayin’, instead of havin’ to bust in, get threatened, irritate the nice white folks, put the fear of the black man on them.”
He paused, seemed to think for a while about what he had just said, then brightened.
“Sounds good, doesn’t it?” I said.
“Real good,” he agreed.”
― John Connolly, quote from The White Road
“I have found in the past that what passes for coincidence is usually life’s way of telling you that you’re not paying enough attention.”
― John Connolly, quote from The White Road
“THE AFRO-AMERICAN HAS BEEN HEIR TO THE MYTHS THAT IT IS BETTER TO BE POOR THAN RICH, LOWER-CLASS RATHER THAN MIDDLE OR UPPER, EASYGOING RATHER THAN INDUSTRIOUS, EXTRAVAGANT RATHER THAN THRIFTY AND ATHLETIC RATHER THAN ACADEMIC.”
― John Connolly, quote from The White Road
“So, how we doin'?"
"Same as usual: dead people, a mystery, more dead people."
"Who we lost?"
"The boy. His guardians. Maybe Elliot Norton."
"Shit, don't sound like we got anybody left. Anyone hires you better leave you your fee in their will.”
― John Connolly, quote from The White Road
John Connolly
Born place: in Dublin, Ireland
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“Hate is not wrong when you hate what is wrong.”
― Nick Cole, quote from The Old Man and the Wasteland
“Good and evil are imaginary concepts put out by clever men and fools. In this world, only happiness and misery are real. Everything else is delusion. Good and bad are appearances ... the play of the mind.”
― Vishnu Sakharam Khandekar, quote from Yayati: A Classic Tale of Lust
“The shit bowl is always easier to clean once it's been flushed. You don't need to know who's sat and caused the stench.”
― Jack L. Pyke, quote from Backlash
“Villainy can win against one library, but not against an organization of readers.”
― Lemony Snicket, quote from Why Is This Night Different from All Other Nights?
“Are you sure you’re all right?” Oscar asked.
“I’m sure.” The sound of their voices disturbed the night, and her dishonesty disturbed her. How could she be all right? She’d been abducted at knifepoint. She’d heard the chanting again and seen the eerie black skeletal face on the bathwater’s surface. What were those things, if not part of the Umandu curse?
“Are you sure he didn’t touch you?” Oscar asked, the softness of his question poles apart from the anger and irritation he’d shown all day. It was obvious he didn’t want to go chasing after Umandu, but she couldn’t imagine the prospect of bringing her father back to life would make him so sour.
Camille sat up, holding the thin blanket around her neck. An odd thought struck her: They were on land, alone in a room, and they hadn’t yet struggled with an awkward stretch of silence. Camille liked the change and hoped it stuck.
Oscar lay on the floor, beneath the double windows. He had one arm over his chest, the other behind his head. He saw her and pushed himself up, his own covers loose around his waist. He still wore his clothes, and she grinned, knowing it was for her benefit only. He’d be sweating rivers tonight in the heavy heat. Oscar wrapped his arm around one knee.
“You have no idea what went through my mind tonight when I found that bathtub empty,” he whispered. “I can’t let anything happen to you, Camille.”
She sat up a little straighter, hoping he wouldn’t pledge his protection just to honor his dead captain. “I didn’t mean to make you worry, Oscar. But my safety isn’t your burden.”
Though she couldn’t see him clearly in the shadowed room, Camille felt his eyes on her.
“You’re not a burden, Camille. Not to me.”
She searched his dark outline. A patch of moonlight fell on a swath of bare skin on the curve of his neck. It glistened with sweat, and she felt her own skin fire with the charged silence growing between them. She didn’t know how to respond; he wouldn’t look away.
“He didn’t touch me,” she whispered instead, answering his original question. She lay back and turned onto her side, disappointed she hadn’t found something more to say. Something to make the moment last a hair longer.
Oscar’s covers rustled as he settled back as well.
“That was smart of him,” he replied, and said no more.”
― Angie Frazier, quote from Everlasting
The Gamble
Seize the Night
On Liberty
Alienated
Barely Breathing
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