2
" A chubby vole sat as guardian between the two sections, making sure the hoi polloi didn't get any ideas above their station. His name was Harold, and the most important thing he had learned in his life, as far as he was concerned, was that it was entirely possible to sleep with one's eyes open, or at least open enough to deceive passersby, if one was willing to put in a bit of practice. True, it wasn't as good as a full-on nap, but any degree of slumber was better than waking. As far as Harold was concerned, the biter part of existence lay in those little moments of oblivion that preceded the last. "
― Daniel Polansky , The Builders
6
" The hit-woman opened the door. No dead body on the floor. Thank God.
I heard an unearthly roar and then Jordan charged Liz from where she’d been hiding beside the door. She tackled her to the floor and stabbed her through the wrist with a small switchblade. The hit-woman shrieked and let go of the gun, allowing Jordan precious seconds to bat it across the room. She landed a couple hard punches to the assassin’s nose, bloodying it, before the other woman got the upper hand.
She grabbed a handful of Jordan’s ponytail and slammed her head into the edge of the coffee table. Jordan cried out, but didn’t let go of the knife. She withdrew it and held it against the assassin’s throat, shouting, “Move again and I’ll kill you, puta!”
Liz panted madly, but stayed put. Jordan glanced up at me. “You okay?”
“Alive,” I said through a grimace. “Not okay.”
“Good enough.” She returned her gaze to the woman pinned beneath her and glared.
“The police are on their way. And not the nice, human police. Angels. Get any ideas about trying to kill me again and you won’t even get to deal with them.”
“I’ve been in jail before,” Liz said, attempting to recapture her former arrogance. “I’ll get over it.”
Jordan leaned down a few inches, lowering her voice. “Really? How’d you like to return without your tongue?”
Liz’s eyes went wide, as did mine. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“You shot my best friend. Multiple times. Lex talionis.”
“You can’t kill me. You’re not a policewoman. You’re just a girl.”
“No. I’m a Seer. You and the rest of your friends had better learn the difference between a sheep and a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Until then…”
She lifted her fist and punched Liz hard in the temple. The assassin went out like a light.
“Vaya con dios, bitch. "
― Kyoko M. , The Deadly Seven (The Black Parade, #1.5)
7
" I was once asked if I had any ideas for a really scary reality TV show. I have one reality show that would really make your hair stand on end: " C-Students from Yale." George W. Bush has gathered around him upper-crust C-students who know no history or geography, plus not-so-closeted white supremacists, aka Christians, and plus, most frighteningly, psychopathic personalities, or PPs, the medical term for smart, personable people who have no consciences.To say somebody is a PP is to make a perfectly respectable diagnosis, like saying he or she has appendicitis or athlete's foot . . .PPs are presentable, they know full well the suffering their actions may cause others, but they do not care. They cannot care because they are nuts. They have a screw loose! . . .So many of these heartless PPs now hold big jobs in our federal government, as though they were leaders instead of sick. They have taken charge of communications and the schools, so we might as well be Poland under occup "