Steven Gould Quotes

She brought the tea into the living room on a lacquered tray. The pot and cups were Japanese with unglazed rims. She poured.
"Thanks," I said.
"Well?"
"Huh?"
"Your family," she reminded.
I sipped the tea. "This is really good. Really delicious."
She raised her eyebrows. "That's what I thought. You're a good listener, Davy, and you can change the subject on a dime. You've hardly talked about yourself at all."
"I talk... too much."
"You talk about books, you talk about plays, you talk about movies, you talk about places, you talk about food, you talk about current events. You don't talk about yourself."
I opened my mouth, then shut it again. I hadn't really thought about it. Sure, I didn't talk
about the jumping, but the rest? "Well, there's not much to say. Not like those stories of growing up with four brothers."
She smiled. "It's not going to work. If you don't want to talk about it, that's fine. But I'm not going to be distracted again, nor fooled into talking about those idiots again."
She poured more tea into my cup.
I frowned. "Do I really do that?"
"What? Not talk about yourself? Yes."
"No, try and distract you."
She stared at me. "You are fucking amazing. I've never seen someone so good at changing the subject."
"I don't do it on purpose."
She laughed.

Matar slowly approached the coffee and picked it up carefully, like it might bite him. He
removed the lid and sniffed.
"It's not poisoned," I said.
"What are you? You conjure things from nowhere."
"Perhaps I'm an afrit, a genie. Perhaps I'm an angel."
Cox watched this exchange with interest. "Perhaps you are Shaitan," said Matar.
I raised my eyebrows and Cox obligingly said, "Satan."
I smiled a smile that didn't touch my eyes. The blood drained from Matar's face. "Perhaps," I
said. "Welcome to hell.

always targets the innocent.

Did they scalp you?

It's a Glock. You squeeze that part, things come out of that part. Very fast.

Great,' I said. 'Visit exotic Australia. Get bitten by an exotic snake. Die exotically.

tonsure - and wearing a dark blue

(Most important thing to know about space-sickness bags? Keep them within reach at all times.)

Are you ready to release Millie Harrison?"
"We don't negotiate with terrorists."
"I'm not a terrorist." I said it tiredly. "Besides, that's bullshit. The U.S. has always negotiated
with terrorists, no matter what it's said. Why do you think we sold arms to Iran?"
"Release Brian Cox. We'll think about it."
"Millie Harrison is being illegally held. Brian Cox kidnapped her. Who is the terrorist? Who is
attacking the innocent? Release her and I'll give you back Cox."
I hung up.

Davy,
Didn't you realize that the only thing I wanted from Mark was his version of the night you,
well, removed him from the party? I know Mark is a sleaze. I'm not involved with him in any
way, but when you vanished from in front of me, what was I to think?
I don't know if you're even human. For all I knew you fly around in a flying saucer kidnapping
humans left and right. If this sort of jumping to conclusions bothers you, think how much
alternative explanation you offered.
I know you're hurt, and I guess you were hurt even more when you thought I was getting
involved with Mark again. But, dammit, you are doing your share of lashing out, yourself.
Millie
P.S. I still don't know if you are human, but I know that I care for you enough that you can
hurt me. You did.

Steering is for people who know where they're going.

What did you - " He swallowed. His voice was raspy. "What did you do to him?"
"Sightseeing. Your turn."
He shivered. "No, that's all right.

God's Blessing are more numerous than those growing trees. /Muhammad Abdullah Hassan, Defeat of the Infidels/

There is an abandonment, an escape, that physical labor bestows.

I want a chance to be Space Girl, too.

The first thing I want to make clear is that this violence, this terrorism, is not cultural. It isn't
integral either to Arab or Muslim culture. I've done too many briefings for senators and congressmen who think that all 'towelheads' carry a pistol and a grenade. If you can't see beyond this stereotype, then we might as well stop now.

How many things have transmitters built into them?

I'd let her sell it to Dad. They tended not to contradict each other so if one of them had already said "yes" it usually meant "yes." If one of them said "no", ditto
which was why I'd asked Mom first.

It is our policy not to negotiate with terrorists."
I stared at the phone, my eyes wide. I was speechless and very, very angry.
"Are you still there?" The voice belonged to an unnamed official in the NSA. Perston‐Smythe introduced him as one of Cox's supervisors.
"What the fuck do you mean by that?"
"It is the policy of this government not to negotiate with terrorists."
"Do you mean to tell me that you consider me a terrorist?"
He sounded almost prim. "Certainly. You've taken a hostage."
"Terrorists," I said, gritting my teeth, "attack the innocent to achieve their goals. If you're about to tell me that you consider Cox an innocent bystander, then this conversation is over."
"Terrorists are - "
"Oh, fuck it! You want a terrorist action so you can consider me a terrorist? There's no way you can keep me out of your nuclear arsenals. Where do you want the first one to go off? The Pentagon? The White House? The Capitol building? How about Moscow or Kiev? Wouldn't that be interesting? Do you think they'd launch?"
His voice was a lot less prim. "You wouldn't do that."
"Well, as a matter of fact, I wouldn't. BECAUSE I'M NOT A TERRORIST!" I slammed the phone down on the hook and jumped.

I'd thought about this for a long time. "That bank loses that much money in bad loans every
month. They make that much money in interest every day. They're a big bank. The money I
took was small change to them. No depositor was hurt."
She shook her head. "I still can't approve of it. I don't think it's right."
I felt my face go remote, still. I crossed my arms and felt cold.
She spread her hands. "It doesn't change the fact that I still love you. I've missed you terribly.
I've missed your phone calls, and I've missed your body in bed next to me. I don't know what
to do about this. My loving you goes way beyond my disapproval of your theft."
I uncrossed my arms and reached across the table for her. She leaned forward and we kissed
until the candle burned a hole in my shirt. Then we laughed and I held an ice cube to the
burn and the food came and everything was all right.