101
" Alice sighed wearily. `I think you might do something better with the time,' she said, `than waste it in asking riddles that have no answers.'`If you knew Time as well as I do,' said the Hatter, `you wouldn't talk about wasting it. It's him.'`I don't know what you mean,' said Alice.`Of course you don't!' the Hatter said, tossing his head contemptuously. `I dare say you never even spoke to Time!'`Perhaps not,' Alice cautiously replied: `but I know I have to beat time when I learn music.'`Ah! that accounts for it,' said the Hatter. `He won't stand beating. Now, if you only kept on good terms with him, he'd do almost anything you liked with the clock. For instance, suppose it were nine o'clock in the morning, just time to begin lessons: you'd only have to whisper a hint to Time, and round goes the clock in a twinkling! Half-past one, time for dinner! "
103
" The TSA liked having fresh agents on the job. Fresh agents with a clear mind and steady hand. Time travel wasn’t for the faint of heart. The pay was good though, but as Scrooby had decided long ago, that even if he didn’t get paid for it, the thrill alone was payment enough. Then again, the TSA realized they couldn’t afford to have disgruntled employees with too much time on their hands and the power of the gods at their fingertips, so the pay was very, very good. Debriefing was routine. And how he hated routine! His supervisor was a senior agent called Guy Krummeck, a rather drab character who liked his shiny silver suits almost as much as he liked to go over every little detail at least three times. Minimum. This time everything went right, so it went quick. Twenty minutes later, tired, he clocked out and went home to his small apartment. Tomorrow, after all, was another day again. "
― Christina Engela , The Time Saving Agency
105
" Would you like me to grovel with gratitude for bringing me here, High Lord?" " Ah. The Suriel told you nothing important, did it?" That smile of his sparked something bold in my chest. " He also said that you liked being brushed, and if I'm a clever girl, I might train you with treats." Tamlin tipped his head to the sky and roared with laughter. Despite myself, I let out a quiet laugh. " I might die of surprise," Lucien said behind me. " You made a joke, Feyre." I turned to look at him with a cool smile. " You don't want to know what the Suriel said about you." I flicked my brows up, and Lucien lifted his hands in defeat." I'd pay good money to hear what the Suriel thinks of Lucien," Tamlin said.A cork popped, followed by the sounds of Lucien chugging the bottle's contents and chuckling with a muttered, " Brushed. "
108
" Frosting was his favorite. He liked to eat doughnuts at every meal. Because it was healthier to eat six small meals a day than three large ones, he restricted himself: jellied for breakfast, glazed for brunch, cream-filled for lunch, frosting for linner, chocolate for dinner, and powdered sugar for 2 a.m. supermarket stakeout. Because linner coincided with the daily crime peak, he always ate his favorite variety to ease him. Frosting was his only choice now, and upsetting his routine was a quiet thrill. "
― Jarod Kintz , A Story That Talks about Talking Is Like Chatter to Chattering Teeth, and Every Set of Dentures Can Attest to the Fact That No..
110
" As is perhaps obvious, Morris Zapp had no great esteem for his fellow-labourers in the vineyards of literature. They seemed to him vague, fickle, irresponsible creatures, who wallowed in relativism like hippopotami in mud, with their nostrils barely protruding into the air of common-sense. They happily tolerated the existence of opinions contrary to their own — they even, for God’s sake, sometimes changed their minds. Their pathetic attempts at profundity were qualified out of existence and largely interrogative in mode. They liked to begin a paper with some formula like, ‘I want to raise some questions about so-and-so’, and seemed to think they had done their intellectual duty by merely raising them. This manoeuvre drove Morris Zapp insane. Any damn fool, he maintained, could think of questions; it was answers that separated the men from the boys. "
― David Lodge
112
" Jackie had now changed her tune, clinging to me as if she liked it. “I’m irresistible, brother, he’s swapping sides for me.”
“I can’t fight it any longer,” I said, nonchalantly.
Wade shook his head at us. “I’ll be sure to pass this news along to your husband, sis.”
“He can have the kids,” Jackie said, causing everyone to chuckle.
“We insist,” I tossed in. "
― Ethan Day , Sno Ho (Summit City, #1)
113
" I glanced over and saw Wyatt glaring at me. Journey’s “Lovin’ Touchin’, Squeezin’” was playing on the radio.
“What?” I asked.
“You secretly hate me, don’t you.” He gestured toward the radio. “You can’t stand the thought of me taking a much needed nap and leaving you to drive without conversation. You’re torturing me with this sappy stuff.”
“It’s Journey. I love this song.”
Wyatt mumbled something under his breath, picked up the CD case, and started looking through it. He paused with a choked noise, his eyes growing huge.
“You’re joking, Sam. Justin Bieber? What are you, a twelve-year old girl?”
There’s gonna be one less lonely girl, I sang in my head. That was a great song. How could he not like that song? Still, I squirmed a bit in embarrassment.
“A twelve-year old girl gave me that CD,” I lied. “For my birthday.”
Wyatt snorted. “It’s a good thing you’re a terrible liar. Otherwise, I’d be horrified at the thought that a demon has been hanging out with a bunch of giggling pre-teens.”
He continued to thumb through the CDs. “Air Supply Greatest Hits? No, no, I’m wrong here. It’s an Air Supply cover band in Spanish.” He waved the offending CD in my face. “Sam, what on earth are you thinking? How did you even get this thing?”
“Some tenant left it behind,” I told him. “We evicted him, and there were all these CDs. Most were in Spanish, but I’ve got a Barry Manilow in there, too. That one’s in English.”
Wyatt looked at me a moment, and with the fastest movement I’ve ever seen, rolled down the window and tossed the case of CDs out onto the highway. It barely hit the road before a semi plowed over it.
I was pissed. “You asshole. I liked those CDs. I don’t come over to your house and trash your video games, or drive over your controllers. If you think that will make me listen to that
Dubstep crap for the next two hours, then you better fucking think again.”
“I’m sorry Sam, but it’s past time for a musical intervention here. You can’t keep listening to this stuff. It wasn’t even remotely good when it was popular, and it certainly hasn’t gained anything over time. You need to pull yourself together and try to expand your musical interests a bit. You’re on a downward spiral, and if you keep this up, you’ll find yourself friendless, living in a box in a back alley, stinking of your own excrement, and covered in track marks.”
I looked at him in surprise. I had no idea Air Supply led to lack of bowel control and hard core drug usage. I wondered if it was something subliminal, a kind of compulsion programmed into the lyrics. Was Russell Hitchcock a sorcerer? He didn’t look that menacing to me, but sorcerers were pretty sneaky. Even so, I was sure Justin Bieber was okay. As soon as we hit a rest stop, I was ordering a replacement from my iPhone. "
― Debra Dunbar , Satan's Sword (Imp, #2)
115
" In sum," Midlife said, giving the room his best you-the-jury baritone, " Our defense will be...?" He looked to Matt for the answer/" Blame the other guy," Matt said." Which other guy?" " Yes." " Huh?" " We blame whoever we can," Matt said. " The CFO, the COO, the C Choose-Your-Favorite-Two-Letter-Combination, the accounting firm, the banks, the board, the lower-level employees. We claim some of them are crooks. We claim some of them made honest mistakes that steamrolled." " Isn't that contradictory?" Midlife asked, folding his hands and lowering his eyebrows. " Claiming both malice and mistakes?" He stopped, looked up, smiled, nodded. Malice and mistakes. Midlife liked the way that sounded." We're looking to confuse," Matt said. " You blame enough people, nothing sticks. The jury end up knowing something went wrong but you don't know where to place the blame. We throw facts and figures at them. We bring up every possible mistake, every uncrossed t and dotted i. We act like discrepancy is a huge deal, even if it's not. We are skeptical of EVERYONE. "
116
" Apollo watched me closely, intently. “No.”
My eyes narrowed. “No to what?”
“I’m not sending you after them. Not yet,” he said, surprising me into silence—a rarity. “I have another task for you. You need to leave for southern Virginia immediately. I’d snap your sunshine-and-rainbows ass there, but now that you’ve annoyed me, you’ll drive the twenty or so hours to get there.”
Okay. That was irritating, but I kind of liked road trips, so whatever. “What’s in southern Virginia?”
“Radford University.”
I waited.
I waited some more, and then sighed. “Okay. You want me to enroll in college?” I asked, and Apollo tipped back his head and laughed so loudly, he actually whooped. I frowned. “What the hell is so funny about that idea?”
“You. College. Using your head. That’s what’s funny.”
I was seconds away from blasting him with akasha. "
― Jennifer L. Armentrout , The Return (Titan, #1)
119
" This is one of mommy's friends, buddy," I told Gavin. (...)" You're Mommy's fwiend?" he questioned. Carter just nodded with his mouth open and no sound coming out. I’m pretty sure he didn’t even hear Gavin. Someone could have asked him if he liked to watch gay porn while painting pictures of kittens and he would have nodded his head. Before anyone could react, Gavin pulled back one of his little fists of fury and slammed it right into Carters manhood. He immediately bent over at the waist, clutching his hands between his legs and gasping for breath. " Oh my God! Gavin!" I yelled, as I scrambled over to him, bent down and turned him around to face me while my dad and Liz laughed like hyenas behind me. " What is wrong with you? We don't hit people. EVER," I scolded. While Carter tried to breathe again, my dad managed to stop laughing long enough to apologize. " Sorry, Claire, that's probably my fault. I let Gavin watch " Fight Club" with me last night." " Your fwiends got you sick the other night. You said he was your fwiend," Gavin explained, like it made all the sense in the world. This just made my dad laugh even louder. " Not helping, Dad," I growled through clenched teeth. " You don't make my mommy sick, dicky-punk!" Gavin yelled at Carter, putting his two little fingers up by his eyes, and then pointing them right at Carter just like Liz had done to him earlier. " Jesus Christ," Carter wheezed. " Did he just threaten me?" " Jesus Cwist!" Gavin repeated back. "