Larry Correia Quotes

Orc. They're distantly related to humans. Most of them never speak. They always wear masks, but even then they're painfully awkward. Each one has some sort of gift that they're magically good at. Gretchen is a healer. Skippy is the best pilot in the world." Mosh was nodding thoughtfully in the dark. "So that explains the Stig.

An hour ago Franks had been swatted across the Strip by a dragon made of ectoplasm and nightmares. Bureaucratic plotting seemed inconsequential in comparison.

I didn't even know what color lavender was. I think most men would consider it light blue, or something.

That fool has no idea how to behave in polite society," his friend agreed. Apparently the polite thing to do was lie and insinuate horrible things with impunity, all while never expecting any repercussions.

The more annoyed Earl was, the more southern he sounded, and right about then, he sounded like he was ready to fry up some catfish and watch some NASCAR.

Lee threw down the tripod, and Trip dropped the FN MAG machine gun onto it ... Lee hunkered down behind the big weapon. Holly handed me an RPG. The heavy tube was reassuring in my hands. Everyone dug down into the ditch, prepared to fight. Nervous but competent. Scared but professional. We were ready to put some smack down. Not bad for an accountant, a librarian, a schoolteacher, and a stripper.

The Royal University will get along fine without me." "And the Malcontents won't?" "If I'm away too long, they tend cause trouble. Set fires. That sort of thing." Cleasby grinned. "Sorry, sir, but I think they need me more.

Fish and Wildlife wants to fine us for killing a giant mutant Tennessee River catfish because it was endangered. Sure it had just crawled up on land and eaten some teenagers, but it was still an endangered species.

This won't hurt a bit. Well, actually it'll probably hurt like a son of a bitch. Bite down on something, she suggested.

He went back to being a unremarkable part of the command center, like a particularly dangerous chair.

If you are serious, and you want to make a living as an author, then you need to hustle. Period. If you can't make that quality, then you need to concentrate on your craft and practice more.
One other thing, quality comes with practice. If you are prolific, then you become a better writer because you are writing. The more you do anything the better at it you will become. So in a way, quantity does add to quality.

You think it's because of the girl. Grant probably thinks it's because of the girl too. That's because you're both idiots.

He tried to choke me with the seat belt, so I elbowed him in the face until he stopped moving. It took three good blows to his noggin to put him out. I'll admit, I enjoyed that part.

Hello there!" Cleasby called. "Is anyone home?" "Bravo, sir," Thorny said. "If it's an ambush, that certainly put them off their game.

Their patch was a molecule with fangs under the words exite! chemicus sum! Which was Latin for, Back off, man! I'm a scientist!

The sight of so many guns, mostly deer rifles and duck guns but with a smattering of black rifles and riot shotguns, made him glad that this was going down in a rural area where people still had their heads screwed on right about personal defense.

I folded the restraining order into a paper airplane and sailed it over to Julie without even interrupting my narrative. She caught, unfolded, and read it while mouthing something that looked suspiciously like ducking mother truckers, but I'm not very good at lip reading.

I'm not in the redemption business

She was about the single nicest human being he'd ever met, but she'd kill anybody she considered a bad man faster than a farmwife would wring the neck of a chicken. With Faye, once you crossed a certain line, your life was worth nothing.

Our tax dollars had equipped Agent Franks with the SUV from Hell.

Orders were often given by those who lacked imagination.

[W]hen all else fails, kill it with fire.

You might think you're a good liar, but you're not. I'm better at this than you are. Your professional lying days were limited to junkies and whores, but I routinely lie to Congress . . . Well, never mind. I suppose we're not that different after all.

When monsters have nightmares, they're dreaming about us. - MHI Company Handbook

Aspiring authors, get this through your head. Cover art serves one purpose, and one purpose only, to get potential customers interested long enough to pick up the book to read the back cover blurb. In the internet age that means the thumb nail image needs to be interesting enough to click on. That's what covers are for.

I always take no for an answer," I said, definitely. "I just prefer yes. And I really don't go for married women. That's a line I try very hard not to cross. I'm still an outrageous flirt.

And when you look long into an abyss, the abyss also looks into you. Ahh . . . an educated man. Well, you're not as stupid as you look. Don't quote Nietzsche at me, kid. That German crackpot wouldn't know a real monster if it bit him on the ass.

He'd been told that women were sensitive about such things, as if a scar could somehow ruin their beauty, but scars were just stories told in flesh ...

People think that the South is racist, and it was, and some parts still are, but for the most part, we've dealt with our history. The biggest racists I've ever met aren't here, they're in politics, and they are smug bastards. They're the ones that are quick to play the race card, the ones that pimp poverty. Those are the real bigots.

The government was the most merciless monster he'd ever dealt with, and it was the only one that he could never truly beat.

It's time to go. We'll continue this therapy session later." "So you're my therapist now?" "Apparently, I'm a life coach for idiots.

The doctors had been impressed that I was even alive. When I had asked one of them approximately how much blood I had lost, he had responded wryly with "most of it.

She was beautiful. In fact she was possibly the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. She was tall, with dark black hair, light skin, and big brown eyes. Her face was beautiful, not fake beautiful like a model or an actress, because she was obviously a real person, but rather Helen of Troy, launch-a-thousand-ships kind of good-looking.

Holy symbols like crosses and blessed water occasionally have an effect, but are dependent upon the personal faith of the user. Most Hunters opt for violence over faith; we're kind of like soccer fans that way.

Now that's just racist stereotyping," Tanya sniffed. "I'm offended." "You can file a complaint with the Trailer Park Elf Defamation League

I left a message with Julie telling her that I would be out of pocket for a bit, couldn't say where I was going, how long I'd be gone, but not to worry, I'd explain later, and that I'd find a ride home. It says a lot about our relationship that that wasn't a particularly strange call by our standards.

Sullivan figured they were mostly in it for the money, a few for the adventure, and the rest because they'd follow Bob Southunder into hell if their captain thought it was a good idea.

There is a vast gulf between perfection and near perfection, and that gulf is filled with agony.

You know that 'no weapons at work' policy?" I asked the twitching and growing hairy monstrosity standing less than ten feet from me. His yellow eyes bored into me with raw animal hatred. There was nothing recognizably human in that look.

"I never did like that rule," I said as I bent down and drew my gun from my ankle holster, put the front sight on the target and rapidly fired all five shots from my snub-nosed .357 Smith & Wesson into Mr. Huffman's body. God bless Texas.

There is no such thing as a "peacekeeping mission" in the Middle East. Period. The Middle East has been at war, literally, since the dawn of history. The

From the commotion, Franks figured it had to be pretty impressive-looking, but then again, if they weren't easily impressed, they wouldn't be cultists to begin with. "Hurry!

The Healing spells on his chest were certainly earning their keep tonight. Sullivan got to his feet. The lack of noise from the courtyard indicated that his team had gotten all the mechanical men. "Thanks."

Toru just grunted a noncommittal response as he lifted the feed tray to check the condition of his borrowed machine gun. They didn't see the final robot inside until it turned on its eye and illuminated the Iron Guard in blue light.

Sullivan's Spike reversed gravity, and the gigantic machine fell upward to hit the steel beams in the ceiling. Sullivan cut his Power and the robot dropped. It crashed hard into the floor where it lay twitching and kicking. The two of them riddled the mechanical man with bullets until the light died and it lay still in a spreading puddle of oil.

"Normally, this would be the part where you thank me for returning the favor and saving your life."

"Yes. Normally… If we were court ladies instead of warriors," Toru answered. "Shall we continue onward or do you wish to stop and discuss your feelings over tea?"

Sullivan looked forward to the day that the two of them would be able to finish their fight. "Let's go.

When I get those types, the men who just need to control everything, to tell everybody else what to do, I stick it in and break it off. I'm fighting for freedom.

Jake Sullivan: FDR can go to hell. I'm a man. Not a type, not a number, and sure as hell not something that can be summed up as a logo to wear on my sleeve. A man. And I ain't registering nothing.

If you expect to survive, you must keep your wits about you. You must keep your firearms clean, your knives sharp, and - if you are lucky enough to have it - your magic ready, but no amount of Power or equipment or fancy kit will make up for a lack of brains and guts. When danger looms, don't hesitate, commit.

The guy that helped me learn this stuff suggested prayer and meditation. So I took up smoking.

Nikolai's a badass Russian. Badass Russians only have three emotions: revenge, depression, and vodka.

Novak, climb up that wall and see if you can get an angle on the big one." The military rifle in her hands wasn't particular impressive. "I don't know if it'll notice." "Try to shoot it in the soft bits.

I'll distract her ... Okay, lady. Say hello to my little friend." Lance began to laugh maniacally. "What'd you do?" Heinrich asked. "Had a rat crawl up her dress to bite her on the ass. Ha!

You're not from around here. You talk funny." "Alabama. Where bears don't eat people, it don't usually snow, and it's customary for the new guy getting told the tale to buy the drinks for the men doing the telling.

Chupacabras do not normally attack people.

would react with violent seizures. Because of the rudimentary working conditions, and the difficulty of correctly reproducing body parts in miniature, this body had been built using only parts from the biggest and fittest of cadavers. The straps were not sufficient to hold me. I tore free. Lightning was cascading through copper rods buried in my chest. I ripped them out. Elixir and blood were being pumped into my body by a machine. I smashed it. I roared like an animal as I began destroying the very tools that had brought me to life. The bellows were manned by one of Dippel's assistants. I remember him looking at me with an expression of terror as I picked him up by the neck. I killed my first man only ten seconds after I had been born. With blood and Elixir pouring from my self-inflicted wounds, I

Like we could buy Idaho kind of money.

She wore glasses, and I was a sucker for a girl in corrective eyewear. Since I was ugly it was probably some sort of subconscious reaction in the hope that I might have a chance with a cute girl who couldn't see very

Pangborn took the satchel by the straps. "What is it?" "A bomb." The mechanic's eyes widened. "Thanks?

Evil can kill you, break your body, and sometimes it can even break your mind, but only you can break your spirit.

Holy shit! I exclaimed, and that was one of the most coherent comments of the bunch.

It is hard to sleep when roaches keep skittering across your body. My understanding is that since roaches can't shift into reverse, if one of them crawls into your ear canal it can get really nasty and potentially kill you. Sleep on that.

Nothing a wrench to the face couldn't fix." Heinrich answered. "But I suppose a wrench to the face solves most personnel issues.

With his long red beard, and bristling with firearms and knives, he reminded me of a pirate. A very mellow pirate, but a pirate nonetheless.

On an otherwise normal Tuesday evening I had the chance to live the American Dream. I was able to throw my incompetent jackass of a boss from a fourteenth-story window.

As a general rule, the more a situation sucks, the more humor you can find in the little things.

She had never cared for social things, as society was just a complicated collection of individually annoying people, and she didn't like most people to begin with,

I think that the law isn't about words on paper. It's about doing what's right,

Susan, you were a mighty fine woman when you were alive and all, but personally I'd rather be gang-raped by giant, rabid, syphilitic porcupines, than join your shithead, hippie-commune, undead family, you scrawny-ass, vampire skank whore.

Mom knew damned well how disgusting the bastard was but she had that incredible ability found in so many minds like hers to simply ignore all the evidence in favor of her personal view of the world. And

I've got a chainsaw with my name on it in my workshop," Milo told us happily. "If I'm ever killed by undead, I want you guys to chop me up with it. It's a good chainsaw."
"I reckon it is, Milo. I would be honored to chop your head off," Sam said.

Hey, laugh all you want, but I grew up poor in backwoods Florida, with an immigrant, single mom. I'm the only person in my family who learned to read, and that was only because of comic books at first, and then fantasy novels and an active imagination. I got addicted to them when I was a kid and read like crazy. I must have read thousands of them. So I've been reading about elves and that kind of thing for twenty plus years. I can't help it if I'm excited." "You were a geek," she said. "Well, I guess." "I bet you played Dungeons and Dragons in a friend's garage." "Well, yeah." "Nerd.

Wait a second, is a snooty book critic actually admitting to judging books by their covers?