Delilah S. Dawson Quotes

Time to beat back the bunny hordes," he said gallantly,knowing that any blood-hungry animals in the area would be waiting outside for me.
He threw open the door, shouting, "Bunnies, prepare to meet your doom!

That's the problem with following all the rules - somebody else is eventually going to get ahead by breaking them, and then where will you be?

But I'm knitting for anarchy.

When he glanced back at his twin, he saw that Offi's general woe-is-me-for-I-am-a-tortured-soul-and-I-walk-the-world-alone face had been replaced by a brand-new by-dinkus-this-is-worrisome face.

What you're seeing is pain. And you're the only one who sees it," he said more softly. "You're the only one who can cut me, and you wound me deep.

Let me guess. You think we're going to live happily ever after, like some stupid fairy tale?"
"Why not?" His stare dared me to laugh or, worse, to argue.
"Because the whole thing is ridiculous," I said. I despised the bitterness in my own voice. I sounded so damaged. Good. If he thought I was his soul mate for some mysterious reason he wouldn't let on, let him see the worst of me.
"It's not ridiculous to me. Perhaps that's the difference between predators and prey, love. I'll never stop hunting. But I expect that one day, you'll stop running."
"Because I want to die?"
"Because you want to live.

I am surely miserable, and misery is a rainstorm. But this moment is an umbrella, a singular thing, a contained thing, a stolen thing, a world infinite in itself.

Rey had Begged The Vision to Reveal her parents, and 2 dark shadows had approached the mirror and merged into one figure, which matched it's hand to hers. but when the frost over the glass cleared. She saw only... herself. "i thought i'd find answers here" She said, forlorn I Was Wrong" 'I'd never felt so alone".

'you're not alone" Kylo whispered. "neither are you" She told Him, 'it isn't too late".

She held out a hand and he removed his glove and reached for her. their fingers's touched and a Tear Slipped down Rey's cheek.

just then, Luke burst through the door of her hut, Saw the Force Vision of Kylo and Yelled 'Stop"!!!

Why, Criminy Stain," I said. "You're a romantic."
"Oh, no," he said with a grin. "I'm fiendish and unscrupulous, a vicious killer and a thief and a bloodthirsty monster. And maybe a little romantic. But don't tell anyone, or my reputation's shot.

What if you could take everything you were looking for in a person and whisper it into someone's ear, and they brought that person to you? And then, when you saw them for the first time, even if you didn't know they were the one for you, you suddenly knew it anyway?"
His finger traced my eyebrows, my cheekbones, as he thought a moment.
"What if your heart stopped when you saw that person, and only after that did you realize that they truly were everything you ever wanted?

Criminy?" I asked.
"Hmm?"
"What are we doing?"
"I'm having a meal with a friend while you squirm like a child," he said serenely.

"Hmm?"
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"Hmm?"
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Easy things aren't worth much. Your hand in mine is worth a great deal, Leticia." he said, helping to my feet. "That's what I'll be fighting for tomorrow.

And watch out for flying monkeys, you old bitch!

My dear artificer, I find I like it better from the front.

So on the way out, maybe I sashayed a little. Maybe I tried swinging my hips. Maybe I didn't. It's not a crime to feel pretty, after all.

That's the problem with indoctrination - the whole point of the First Order's kind of education is to stop someone from thinking and instead kick their emotions into gear. Make them hate everything else so they'll cling to what you give them. It's hard to think for yourself when fear and anger are driving the shuttle.

He sighed. Look, love, I know I seem like a tactical genius, but really, I'm just a magician who occasionally kills a bunny or drives a train.

I need you, not it. And I'm done being used. If you're going to take from me, you're going to start giving back, and I'll start with your heart.

Sometimes the Force challenges us," the older woman said. "And we don't find out until later why we had to suffer. Every setback contains hidden blessings.

Unicorns aren't magical and beautiful. They're just predatory horses that have horns and love to eat virgins.

The Force is all around us," she said. " You don't have to be sensitive to it to attract it, to be part of it. We're all part of it. Some people are just...well, think of it like a butterfly landing on you. That doesn't mean you're a flower. It just means you smell sweet. It's a good thing.

Somewhere, deep behind my ribs, in a place I didn't know existed, my heart opens up like one of those blooming tea bags, the ones that start out tiny and dark and then blossom like a flower. I've never let someone kiss me before. I've never let myself want to let it happen. It's as unreal as everything else but far more welcome.

Even without his helmet, the man was a symphony in red.

It's not my fault I have vampire swagger.

Paugh!" the troll scoffed. "Romance. Kissing and folly. Where's the story, where's the philosophy? I'm a troll, and even I can't rip a bodice. You should read real literature. The classics." He held up a book called Ye Olde Clubbe of Fisticuffs. "This is one of my favorites. It's all about, like, rejecting capitalism." He held up another, the spine as yet uncracked, called Alliance of Nincompoops. "Or this one, about a misunderstood genius. You should read it. I'd love to chat about what the true meaning of success is when we're living in a world that values looks instead of substance.

I miss the days when I could wake up from a nightmare and call out, and someone would hold me close, make me feel warm and safe.

Good news arrives with TV cameras and big, brightly painted vans. Bad news arrives quietly, in dark sedans with black windows.

He leaned over my back, his lips warm against my ear. You may be a princess, but you belong to me.

The word WANTED slithered across the top of each image in elegant calligraphy. The drawing of Criminy was spot-on, but the one of me was more than a little imaginative. I looked like an evil seductress, some sort of vampy witch-queen.
I liked it.
I wanted a copy for my wagon.

Are you saying that was real magic?" I said. "That's crazy."
"Well, let's see. Are you telling me you just saw the past in a vision. That a monkey in a top hat was trying to murder my chief costumer and head accountant with the most powerful poison in existence using her makeup jar? If so, perhaps I'm not the crazy one here.

No people. You get close to them, and they die or disappear. You kiss them, just for fun, and they tie you to the bed and steal your creds. They're messy. Stupid. Foolish.

Only then could he have a sad waffle with no syrup on it for breakfast. He didn't think his mother made them properly: rumor in the village had it that waffles weren't supposed to be gray.

Walking across the moors made me feel as if I'd stepped primly out of a Jane Austen book or an Impressionist painting. But I bet even Elizabeth Bennet had never punted a rabbit before, and my current count was 137.

Sweetheart, you couldn't conjure me if you tried.

I needed to take control of the dream. I held out a hand with fingers splayed and focused my will. "Zzzzzzzsssst! Pshew! Zzzzist!" I said. But nothing happened.
"What in Sang are you doing, love?" he asked.
My arm dropped to my side. "I was trying to shoot lightning bolts out of my fingertips," I said. Then, quietly, "It usually works."
"Told you it wasn't a dream. Do you want to try flying, too?"
Sheepishly, I gave a little hop, but my feet came back down to the ground.
"No," I said, feeling sullen and embarrassed and on the verge of outright panic.

Oh, well, you go to poor school." He gives a comic eye roll. "At rich school, we take notes on hundred-dollar bills using unicorn tears, and our grief is vastly different and more complex.

Rubbing the place where a headache was brewing, Toby said, "You may keep whatever parts of the goat you wish. I just want this farm boy's heart."
"So the rest of him is up for grabs?"
"The rest of the goat?"
"No, the rest of the…yeah, the goat. The goat. Good eating, goat.

I don't think there's anything wrong with the way you are," I said shyly. "I just don't want to mess up, and you're much better at this sort of thing than I am."
"Don't worry. You'll enjoy playing along. You'll have to be haughty, and I'll have to act beaten down, when we're in public."
"That sounds kind of fun." I said.
"Just don't forget that it's a ruse, love," he said. "Because once we're outside the walls again, you'll be entirely in my power. And I'd hate to have to spank you.

I told him my own story, from locket to fainting. But I left out the part about how I was supposed to be Criminy's magic mail-order bride.

It's easy to be a hero when your own survival is aligned with someone else's, when your victory is a victory for your entire clan.

If I'd known it would be that good, I might not have resisted for so long.

He was watching me, and he chuckled.
"Do you know how a man tames a wolf?" he asked me.
"No," I said.
"You get some clothing that you've been wearing for a while, and you toss it in with her. In the cage or the cavern where she sleeps. That first one, she rips up, shreds it to nothing. The second one, she just mouths it a bit, gets a taste. Inhales, like you're doing there. The third but of clothing, she starts dragging it around, loving on it, sleeping with it. And then you've got her under your spell. She's got the scent of you, wants to keep it around. She'll follow you everywhere."
"Are you calling me a wolf?" I asked.
"Are you calling me a man?" he said.

Some villains, like Archex had been as Captain Cardinal, were conflicted, and Vi could carefully twist the key inside them until something clicked open. Some villains were just straight-up evil---like anyone with the last name Hux.

I'm a nurse," I said, feeling huffy. "I help sick people."
"So you can stop the diseases?" he asked.
"Not really. I mostly help the people who are already dying, trying to make their last days comfortable."
"You help people die," he mused. "That sounds quite sinister, and that's coming from someone who drinks blood.

Honestly," he said with a grin, "how would that have worked? Oh, hello dream lover. Would you drink some of my blud so I won't murder you in front of all these nice people?"

People were people, and they'd double-cross you or die on you no matter where they were from.

Do you really want to know what it's like, being a spy? Never sure to whom you're giving your allegiance, and knowing that most of your colleagues will die gruesomely, often by your hand? Fine. Let me show you.

I don't know," I said, exasperated. "What else do you have in your wacked-out world? Heat sensors? Mine fields? Dirigibles? Booby traps? Machine guns? Shrink rays? What?"
"Aside from dirigibles, which are rather expensive and rare outside of trade routes, most of what you just said made no sense whatsoever," he said, as delighted as a child hearing a foreign language for the first time. "But it all sounds very dangerous. And fun. Especially the part about the boobies.

The night was young, and Bazine Netal was hunting.

It's a little scary, what you do."
As I tried to figure out how to respond, and with words as sharp and cold as the blade of a knife, Criminy said, "If you're scared of her talent, then you don't truly know what fear is.

In the dark of the night, we're nothing but shadows. My feelings and thoughts are as tangled as unraveled yarn, loose ends and knots and bursts of violent color.

Like so many women before me, I was a slave to the caveman brain, that deep old part of my DNA that whispered that ferocity would keep me safe and fed and alive and that I should most definitely find the fiercest creature around and hump it.
Dawson, Delilah S. (2012-03-27). Wicked as They Come (Blud) (p. 309). Pocket Books. Kindle Edition.

You can come back here." I sniff. "I think I got it all out."
"You needed a good cry worse than anyone on earth," he says. "But, for the record, I wasn't listening, and you didn't make any weird snerk noises."
I laugh, but it comes out as another weird snerk noise.

And, uh . . . to whom do you pray?'

'We worship the perfect cohesion of space and time and nonlinear probabilities represented by cabbage.'

'Wow, that's . . . yeah.

. . . dreams are your heart's playground.

It is amusing, is it not, to want to be both found and forgotten at the same time?

By the time she'd run to the edge of the crater, Bazine's mentor and once-friend was climbing over the edge, bruised and scratched up but mostly unharmed.

I watched him playing with the long blades of grass, weaving them into patterns as he hummed an unfamiliar song, a waltz.
"What are you doing?" I asked him.
"I'm letting you get used to the idea of me," he said idly. "I'm pretending to be harmless. Is it working?"
"Until you smile," ( ... )