Kevin Hearne Quotes

you can't unchoose anyone's choices, least of all your own. All you can do with your past is try to grow out of it. Darren

Put your affairs in order, mortals," she boomed, as a gust of wind - yes, wind inside my shop - blew their hair back. "I will feast on your hearts tonight for the offense you gave me. So swears the Morrigan." I thought it was a bit melodramatic, but one does not critique a death goddess on her oratory delivery.

It shall be called the Triple Nonfat Double Bacon Five-Cheese Mocha!>

Heh! Fuck yew," I said.

It is best to know when to keep your salami in your pants and when to pull it out, however, and even my priests have had some difficulty with that issue.

We should be going in there with a thousand naked warriors who fight like wet cats with dodgy bowls.

Manannan's door-cum-portal

Oberon:She's a very clever girl, the kind you dont' take home to Ogma.

You killed my father," he snorted in a basso profundo rumble. "Prepare to die!" "Inigo Montoya? Is that you?

The universe is exactly the size that your soul can encompass. Some people live in extremely small worlds, and some live in a world of infinite possibility. You

Dude is that was a Shakespeare quote duel, he just kicked your ass. Oberon
I know, but I slipped in some T.S.Eliot and he didn't even catch it. Hopefully next time I wont be recovering from an assassination attempt, and then I'll do better. - Atticus

My first time in Madagascar was awesome because lemurs are kind of funny; they throw fruit at the back of your head when you're not looking and then point at one another when you turn around.

Oberon said from behind the counter.
I busied myself making Emily's tea and spoke to him through our link. 'Yes, well, she's decided to take the high road, so I'll be happy to walk it with her as long as she likes.'

'Nope. She's a witch. A polite witch, but still a witch. She's got a charm on her hair that would have had me giving her anything she wanted if I hadn't been wearing protection. Don't take anything from her, by the way.'

'Oh yes she does. Emily has probably already told her.'

'How would you know the difference if she did? You think all sausages are magic.

Mr. Tall, Blonde and Lightning

I thought Sundays were supposed to be relaxing. As a male citizen of America, I'm entitled on Sundays to watch athletic men in tight uniforms ritualistically invade one another's territory, and while they're resting I get to be bombarded with commercials about trucks, pizza, beer, and financial services. That's how it's supposed to be; that's the American dream.

Atticus: You hear that? The nice blonde in her thirties is actually over 140 years old. :
Oberon: She must use that Oil of Olay stuff. I wonder if it would get rid of the wrinkles on a shar-pei?

It had been a long time since I'd felt any desire to truly inflict pain upon another person. I tend to take the long view on dealing with irritating people - as in, I'm going to outlive whoever irritates me, so the problem will eventually go away. I had privately changed "This, too, shall pass" into "You, too, shall die," and it helped me avoid all sorts of conflict.

it already sounds like they are giving me the equivalent of a Multipass.

I bet it's a universal truth: You eat your pie or go home.

No one takes you seriously when you're naked.

They need to get a good PR guy." "What's a PR guy?" "They're kind of like the old Greek sophists who played with words until you believed up was down. PR guys get paid to make people believe that a pile of shit is an investment in soil fertility. Professional liars." "Ah!" Manannan's expression lit with comprehension. "They are politicians?" "No, they're smarter and less pretty. They advise politicians.

A morbid thought wandered into my consciousness and said hello: If Basasael ate my dumb Druid ass, would the Morrigan be able to bring me back fully functional, resurrected from - what? Angel poop? That raised another question, at once metaphysical and profane: Do angels, fallen or otherwise, have assholes?

Bitch," he growls, immediately grasping for the world that most men do when they encounter a woman they can't control.

When there's blood involved, you always use every advantage you have to make sure it's theirs that spills and not yours. If you want to feel guilty about taking unfair advantage afterward, you go ahead and feel that shit. But live to feel it.

I come to dungeon for good time - which maybe is problem, I admit - but I get bad time instead.

To be rooted is to say, here am I nourished and here will I grow, for I have found a place where every sunrise shows me how to be more than what I was yesterday, and I need not wander to feel the wonder of my blessing.

People still need to know that ye would fix everything if ye could.

Sometimes I forget what I look like and I do something out of character, such as sing shepherd tunes in Aramaic while I'm waiting in line at Starbucks, but the nice bit about living in urban America is that people tend to either ignore eccentrics or move to the suburbs to escape them.

I think "The Boondock Saints", because the Irish guys win. Plus the cat ends badly. It affirms my worldview and I feel validated.

What's silly is paying five bucks for hot milk and flavored syrup! But now I see what's really been going on all this time! They charge you all that money because they need it for the R & D! Somewhere on the outskirts of Seattle, there's a secret facility with higher security than Area 51, and inside there are men with poor eyesight and bad haircuts wearing white coats, and they're trying to make the Holy Grail of all coffee drinks.
The bacon latte?
No, Atticus, I already told you those exist! I'm talking about the prophecy! 'Out of the steam and the foam and the froth, a man in white with poor eyesight will craft a liquid paradox, and it shall be called the Triple Nonfat Double Bacon Five-Cheese Mocha!'
Oberon, what the F
?

At this point we hated each other as much as it was possible for two Irishmen to do-and that's quite a bit.

Pain fades, but freedom is an enduring joy.

It's all Irish politics."
Hal looked at me sharply and shook a finger in my face. "That's bloody dangerous, getting involved in that. You be careful."
I gaped at Hal. "I can't believe you just said that to me."
"What?" Hal protested, shrugging his shoulders and looking aggrieved.
"I called to ask Gunnar for help with the Bacchants yesterday and he shut me down. No well-wishing, no pleas to be careful, nothing. So now we're dealing with the aftermath of what happens when I try to go it alone, , and you tell me to be careful about Irish politics?"
"Well, I know precisely where Gunnar's coming from. It's not our job to keep the magical peace."
"Neither is it mine."

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How can I be assured the apple you bring me is Idunn's?
Well, it'll be golden, for one thing, and after you take a bite of it you should feel pretty fucking good.

I wonder if they have a fancy law or name for the principle that Humans Ruin Everything for Profit. Maybe that's just capitalism

Nature doesn't ask your permission; it doesn't care about your wishes, or whether you like its laws or not. You're obliged to accept it as it is, and consequently all its results as well.

Well o' course she's feelin' dandy! She's the mother o' God for the love o' Pete!

Americans say all men created equal. These words very good. Make men feel special. They know is not true, not really, but they always say is true, and they point to these words and say, Ideas like this make us strong. They turn mouse into bear. They turn dog into bear. Everything can become strong like bear if you think with American brains. But if everything is bear, what do bears eat? Americans

I've often been flabbergasted by modern pharmaceutical ads on television. The list of side effects for some maladies often sound worse than the condition they're supposed to treat. Once I even heard "heart failure" listed as a side effect, and I wondered how that happened. Heart failure sounds like a pretty major event to me, and if you're willing to risk heart failure in order to avoid the mild discomfort of some other condition, then may the gods shield you from harm, since you're obviously seeking it out.

Careful with that ego, you could knock somebody over. Atticus

Their numbers swell like viruses until they madden someone with a large army.

Here is how you know someone has had a good idea: Other people freely admit to their friends that said idea has changed their lives. Most people today will grant that fire and the wheel are the big two. After that, any attempts to rank the greatest ideas of all time are going to draw lots of argument. You'll have zealots pimping this god or that on the one hand, scientists pimping Darwin on the other, and then practical people pointing at written language and saying, look, fellas, the reason those ideas have gone viral is because someone figured out how to write them down.

Usually I try to suppress any emotions that savor of regret, because they are invariably aperitifs to a main course of depression, and for the long-lived, that's a recipe for suicide. But that doesn't mean they can't sneak up on me sometimes.
And, like, gang-tackle me.

Perhaps he'd been using Just for Gods hair cream.

Look, I don't know what you are, but you're more than a geologist, if you are one at all. I've met lots of geologists on different projects like this, and they're all tiny sunburned men with fetishes for geodes. They wear floppy hats and carry baggies for soil samples around with them ... And geologists don't make rocks disappear like you did the other night. They keep them and build little shrines to them.

Falling in love is like that: you always feel like a dumbass at some point, even if you know it's coming - it's unavoidable.

I don't have enough information to make a rational decision. It's like you're asking me to order a drink according to how me nipples are feeling instead of telling me what they're ready to pour.

They may have been victims at one time, but what you have to focus on is what they are now.

We should make a pit trap with spikes in the bottom. You make the pit and I'll make the spikes.

Come humans, fulfill your evolutionary purpose adn build your hound a fire. Oberon

You're going to need a dann big can of big spray! Or maybe a rocket-propelled grenade. I have one in the garage, you want it?

I tend to vacillate between belief systems. Right now I'm kind of checking out the whole buffet, you know, and maybe in a little while I'll decide on what I want to put on my plate and chow down on.

The witch obviously wanted my help with something, and I could only assume that she wanted a new body to inhabit. But I didn't have any of those currently in stock, and bodies were one of the few things you couldn't buy (yet) on Amazon.

His eyes were glowing egg yolks, burning Scut Farkus eyes to make your kidneys cringe.

There are certain encounters that one knows will never be repeated so long as one lives. The firstborn child can't be born twice; one's virginity, once lost, can never be found again; the sheer awe one feels when laying hand on a giant sequoia cannot be rivaled. Other times escape our notice, slipping by while we are preoccupied, and we do not appreciate their enormity until it's too late to do anything but regret that we had not paid more attention in the present.
For me, the times I always regret are missed opportunities to say farewell to good people, to wish them long life and say to them in all sincerity, "You build and do not destroy; you sow goodwill and read it; smiles bloom in the wake of your passing, and I will keep your kindness in trust and share it as occasion arises, so that your life will be a quenching draught of clam in a land of drought and stress." Too often I never get to say that when it should be said. Instead, I leave them with the equivalent of a "Later, dude!" only to discover some time afterward that there would never be a later for us.

You don't need to say any special incantation or sacrifice a stray cat or something first?

And there were carved hearts in the trunks of trees with the initials of couples who felt there was no more romantic thing they could do to celebrate their love than scar the local plant life

wooden plaque hangs from a nail, reading THE MASTER IS OUT, and I shake my head and flip it around. The other side also says THE MASTER IS OUT.

All right. I do not think she will attack, though. She is a nice inhuman." "You mean nonhuman. Inhuman is an adjective," I said, as I rose from the lawn and padded softly around the left side of the house to the backyard. "Hey, I'm not a native speaker. Give me a break.

So my free advice is to always find something to love and to make you laugh - something that will keep you in the here and now. Hounds are good at it, and they work for me. They may or may not work for you.

I hurt in places I didn't know were places.

Let me tell you, people go on and on about what a great idea electricity was, but I'm going to put toilet paper right next to the wheel and say those are the best ideas anyone's ever had. Scoff at it if you will, but try living for two millennia without it and then we'll talk.

He could focus my attention on how perfectly sublime life can be at times. Such moments are ephemeral, and without his guidance I might have missed many of them, working so hard to get somewhere that I would fail to recognize when I had arrived.

It's best not to experiment on yourself. Bacon practically froze himself to death in one of his experiments and died of pneumonia."
{Right! Bacon must be heated. Knew that already, but thanks for the reminder.}

I don't speak Otter, ya dumbass. What are ya waitin' for? Get over here so we can get back to the rez. Unless I'm talkin' to a real otter, in which case I'm the dumbass and you can just stay over there. I

Did Genghis Khan take his coffee black?" Oberon asked me. After my bathtime story, he wanted to be the Genghis Khan of dogs. He wanted a harem full of French poodles, all of whom were named either Fifi or Bambi. It was an amusing habit of his: Oberon had, in the past, wanted to be Vlad the Impaler, Joan of Arc, Bertrand Russell, and any other historical figure I had recently told him about while he was getting a thorough cleansing. His Liberace period had been particularly good for my soul: You haven't lived until you've seen an Irish wolfhound parading around in rhinestone-studded gold lamé.

Huh ... guess they didn't want a cracker after all. Another myth BUSTED

Oh noes, kitteh haz major angriez!" I said. I turned around to share a laugh with my companions and found them glaring at me. "What?" I asked.
Leif shook a finger and said in a low, menacing tone, "If you tell me I have to talk like an illiterate halfwit to fit into this society, I will punch you."
"And I'll pull out your goatee," Gunnar added.
"Lolcat iz new happeh wai 2 talk," I explained to them. "U doan haz 2 be kitteh 2 speek it.

That was the attraction of the sirens: not promises of power or riches, but bewildering, tantalizing prophecies that made men leap from their ships to go ask the crazy bitches what the fuck they were talking about.

Do Angels have assholes?
Atticus O'Sullivan - Hexed

Hamlet promised himself he'd throw down afterward, but I think perhaps when he said, "From this time forth, my thoughts be bloody, or be nothing worth!" the limits of blank verse weakened his resolve somehow. If he'd been free to follow the dictates of his conscience rather than the pen of Shakespeare, perhaps he would have abandoned verse altogether, like me, and contented himself with this instead: "Bring it, muthafuckas. Bring it.

The royal hound's belly demands rubbing. Step lively, humans, neglect me not."
~Oberon

That's it," Flanagan said, his thick hands gripping the bar and his eyes wide. "I'm getting back on the wagon and I'm never getting off again. Oh, Jesus, look at that."
"I'm looking," Jesus said. Flanagan flicked an annoyed glance at him

She'd made life poignant for the Irish. The terror she inspired gave peace its serenity; the pain she caused gave health its lustre; her failure to love made me grateful for my ability to do so, and I realized, far too late, that though I never did or could have loved her as she might have wished, I should have loved her more.

The grin on his face wasn't the affable, friendly sort; instead, it was the sociopathic rictus of the irretrievably, bug-fuckeringly insane

Occasionally I am smitten with an acute case of Smug. It can happen to anyone, but it happens most often to people who think they've been especially clever.

That was it. Owen grabbed his arm, yanked it toward him, and head-butted the punk. He went down with a yelp and Owen stood up, kicking his chair away behind him. "Respect your elders, lad!"
The inn got quiet the way things will when shit gets real.

Fucking H!" the vampire shouted, shaking his free left fist. He enunciated the g very clearly and projected his voice from his diaphragm, like a trained opera singer. "It's fuckin' A, not H, but yeah, Leif, go ahead, let's throw down." Leif paused and frowned. "Do you not mean we should throw up?" "No. See, when you throw up you're vomiting, but when you throw down you're starting a fight, as in throwing down the gauntlet." "Ohhhh," he said. "I thought you were speaking literally.

[T]he pain was unspeakable, worse than reading the collected works of Edith Wharton.

Its dead eyes were fixed on me and I'm sure it had no trouble locating me by sound, because I was hollering incoherently in an attempt to die angry at maximum volume.

He will spit you and roast you with rosemary, and we will all sample your flesh tonight. Tomorrow you will be shat out into the snow.
Your diplomacy is bold and edgy, sir.

misbegotten cockwaffle.

The mourning of a loved one never ends with a funeral. It comes back every so often, like a stage performer eager for a curtain call and expects you to be loud about it.

...I gave it all the lung capacity I had.

Why am I here?" Wukong chuckles, throwing his head back in unrestrained glee. "A philosophical question! The answer is simple: to learn and to grow." "No, I mean, why am I here right now?" The Buddha cocks his head at me and shrugs. "The answer is the same, and will remain the same days and months and years hence.

You should learn Polish and read Szymborska!

didn't deserve that kind of trauma. He was so tiny.>

Atticus, I think we're being stalked by the ghost of Alfred Hitchcock. First it was a Vulture adn now two giant ravens are coming our way. Oberon

So in a sense it's we with faith who create gods, not the gods who create us. And, if that's the case, then it's we who created the universe.

It is the whip that clerics use on the laity, making the sheep slaves to whatever moral code the shepherds espouse. It is a catalyst for suicide and untold other acts of selfishness and stupidity.

Did you get me that movie about Genghis Khan?
'It's in the Netflix queue, but that's not the surprise. You don't need to worry, it'll be something good. I just don't want you to feel depressed about going home.'
Oh, I won't. But it would be cool to have a stream like this in the backyard. Can you make one?
'Ummm... no.'
I figured. Can't blame a hound for trying.
Oberon was indeed surprised when we got back home to Tempe. Hal had made the arrangements for me and Oberon perked up as soon as we were dropped off by the shuttle from the car rental company.
'Hey, smells like someone's in my territory,' he said.
'Nobody could be here without my permission, you know that.'
'Flidais did it.'
'That isn't Flidais you smell, believe me.'
I opened the front door, and Oberon immediately ran to the kitchen window that gazed upon the backyard. He barked joyously when he saw what was waiting for him there.
'French poodles! All black and curly with poofy little tails!'
'And every one of them in heat.'
'Oh, WOW! Thanks Atticus! I can't wait to sniff their asses!'
He bounded over to the door and pawed at it because the doggie door was closed to prevent the poodles from entering.
'You earned it, buddy. Hold on, get down off the door so I can open it for you, and be careful, don't hurt any of them.'
I opened the door, expecting him to bolt through it and dive into his own personal canine harem, but instead he took one

My bare foot sounded like a sad trout flapping against the marble floor.

Sometimes you simply need to say thank you to someone, to be grateful for the road behind and the road ahead and the place you're at, and gods are very good at accepting those feelings. And for all that humanity asks them for intercession with this crisis or that, it's important when things go well to be thankful or at least conscious of your good fortune, whether the gods deserve the gratitude or not. We strive so much to achieve these small slivers of balance that it would be a shame not to look around and appreciate them when they happen.

Atticus, ixnay issingpay off the oppercay.>

So after I killed him and stowed his body next to the doe, I sampled his smoothie concoction in the parking lot and found it to be quite delicious.

No worries, Atticus. I will snarf surreptitiously. And I should get bacon, because my adverb was two syllables longer than yours, plus a bonus for alliteration."
I grinned. "It's a deal. You're the best hound ever.

Unidentified hole, please shut it and inspect yourself. Continue to talk and you will be ignored.

You said he was shot by his own clone troopers?" "That was what his recording said. We, of course, had no way to confirm it. Asking the local garrison of troopers if someone may have shot a Rodian Jedi Knight offplanet would attract the wrong sort of attention. But it's stunning in its implications, isn't it? Looked at in that light, it might have been the Jedi who were betrayed, not the Emperor." Not

Chased by Polish curses that seemed to Doppler-shift bizarrely into "Never Gonna Give You Up," and after I thought of it I couldn't believe I'd just rickrolled myself.

Out, out, thou strumpet Fortune!" I cried with all the venom of Charlton Heston.
Oberon asked.
"It's a Shakespearean word for whore."
<"Cool word! It rhymes with trumpet. And pump it. Why didn't the Black Eyed Peas use it in their song? Aren't rappers always looking for cool new rhymes? They should kick it old school with the Bard.>

We banked around until we found a rainbow in the dark. It was on this occasion that I discovered that Granuaile had never heard of Ronnie James Dio. My shock at this news was such that I almost completely missed the fact that we were traveling on Bifrost, the rainbow bridge to Asgard.