Tanya Huff Quotes

You might not be aware of this, but it takes more than bright lights to damage a Marine. We've been highly trained to deal with loud noises, too.

Trains aren't a problem."
"You turn into mist?"
"No, I step out of the way.

"You turn" title="Tanya Huff Quotes: Trains aren't a problem."
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What about some kind of an ancient curse?'
Ancient Curse Kills Two. He could see the headlines now. 'Don't be an asshole.'
The reporter snatched the microphone to safety just in time and, smiling pleasantly, asked, ' Can I quote you on that, Detective?'
Celluci's smile was just as sincere. 'You can tattoo it on your chest.

When they finally allowed the horses to slow to a walk, Vree dropped out of the saddle to stretch her legs.
*We're going to forget how to get anywhere on our own two feet. Gonna end up looking like fat-assed officers.*
Vree arched her back, rocked forward, then arched it again, working the stiffness out of her shoulders. *Giving the pounding it's taking, if my ass is getting fat, it's in self-defense.*

Going to tell us why you think so, Gunny?" "I expect the belief is based on years and years of experience combined with a number of subliminal clues that I'm not consciously aware of." "Gut feeling?" Mike asked in the stunned silence that followed her declaration. "Pretty much, yeah.

...the number of angels who can dance on the head of a pin depends entirely on the dance.

Safe from what? she'd asked.
And under her touch, Kovar's kigh had answered, "Change".

Torin suspected Darlys was praying and only hoped she wasn't praying to her - for she was a vengeful god, or, at the very least, a god who could use a few hour's more sleep and a large cup of black coffee.

Old soldier's trick, sir. Sleep when you can." "You're not sleeping, Staff." "Staff sergeants never sleep, sir." "Ever vigilant?" "You've been reading the brochure.

We are using these to follow the Others home. We are maybe using these to end the war." "We are maybe using these to die in a new and exciting way.

A quick check on the platoon showed everyone more or less enjoying the flight.
"Whatever it is you're eating, Ressk, swallow it before we land," [said Staff Sergeant Kerr].
"No problem, Staff."
"More like whoever he's eating," Binti muttered beside him.
"You ought to count your fingers," he suggested. "You're too serley stupid to notice one missing."
"Maybe you ought to gren sa talamec to."
"That's enough, people."
When the Confederation first started integrating the di'Taykan and the Krai into what was predominantly a human military system, xenopsychologists among the elder races expected a number of problems. For the most part, those expectations fell short. After having dealt with the Mictok and the H'san, none of the younger races - all bipedal mammals - had any difficulty with each other's appearance. Cultural differences were absorbed into the prevailing military culture and the remaining problems were dealt with in the age-old military tradition of learning to say "up yours" in the other races' languages. The "us against them" mentality of war made for strange bedfellows.

Once a man began thinking with his body, intelligent decisions came few and far between.

The off-the-record reaction of the First Human Contact Team upon meeting the di'Taykan had been, "Holy fuk, they're elves!" To the horror of right thinking xenoanthropologists everywhere, the name stuck.

But I am a knight of the Round Table," he protested, weakly. "I am a protector of the realm, a slayer of evil, I defeat all those who raise their swords in opposition to Arthur, King of all Britain."
"Trust me, kid, women prefer a man who can cook.

You guys only knew him for a week." "No." Torin waited until Ryder had hold of both handles, then she stepped away. "We knew him his whole life.

Holy fuk." Lieutenant Jarret snorted. "Private Checya, I think you've just expressed the official reaction.

What do they do for a village idiot when you're here?

I tell you what I won't put up with. You chose how to behave.

Isn't that just like a man. 450-fucking-years-old and he's still thinking with his balls!

If she lost it, the whole house of cards could come tumbling down. Fortunately, she had no intention of losing it; it would take too damned long to find it again, and she didn't have that kind of time.

I will shove my fist so far down your fucking throat that you'll be shitting my fingernails for a week.

Peter. The fine hair along her spine rising, Vicky could feel the power in a name. This is who you are, it said. Come back to us.

Dexter thrust a pamphlet into Samuel's hand. "Greenstreet Mission. We're doing a Christmas dinner. You can get a meal and hear the word of God."
Samuel smiled in relief. This, finally, he understood. "Which word?"
"What?"
"Well, God's said a lot of words, you know, and a word like 'it' or 'the' wouldn't be worth hearing again but its always fun listening to Him try and say aluminum.

Fitzroy, what is this shit?" "Henry, please, not Fitzroy.

Oh, for fuck's sake; sometimes a raccoon is just a raccoon!

Toronto's already ass-deep in cockroaches and conservatives; what's one more lower life-form?

What goes on between a man and his missus is nobody's business; especially where desert toppin's involved.

Did you pull rank?" "On a chief warrant officer?" They'd reached the link, and he slapped the call button. "Do I look suicidal?

Sometimes the gods smile," he grunted. "Yes, sir." And sometimes they kick you over and stomp you flat.

Although the secrets governments kept were generally about money wasted on dumbass ideas while social services held bake sales.

What are you on, Samuel?"
This was easier, he glanced down. "Laminate.

This" title="Tanya Huff Quotes: What are you on, Samuel?"
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People used to recordings believed every piece of music had a definitive sound, its emotional context trapped in amber, a butterfly pinned to a board; beautiful, but dead. Live music was just that. Alive.

Violence is never the answer but sometimes, like with cockroaches, it is the only possible response.

The world tilted slightly sideways. 'I think I need to sit down.' The floor seemed like the best option. It was close and he'd already proved that he could hit it. His legs folded.

Experience had taught her that an enthusiastic officer was a bad thing; an enthusiastic idiot in a captain's uniform was a

Charlie. Never underestimate the power of abs so defined you can open a Corona on them.

Good afternoon, Gunnery Sargent."
"Any ideas…?"
Dr. Sloan turned slowly and stared up at Torren through narrowed eyes. "About what?"
"I'm sorry had you not noticed the birds?"
"Oh, ha!" Arms folded she resumed staring to the west. "I'm not doing anything. They just keep coming back."
"Maybe your jacket is…"
"…Is what? Stuffed with bird seed? Emitting matting coos on a frequency only these birds can hear? Looks like their big blue mother? You're so good at getting various and varying species to do what say, you tell them to shoo."
"Shoo?"
"Fine, pick a tougher word."
No longer trying to hide her smile, Torren leaned slightly forwards and said, "Scram."
The birds took off almost as one bird, their wings chopping at the air.

"Any" title="Tanya Huff Quotes: Good afternoon, Gunnery Sargent."
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It is a great blow to the ego, Sssergeant, to dissscover that you are, after all, not unique." He looked up, his tongue flickering. "I am, however, mossstly recovered.

The last time he'd had a ride this rough, there was a set of twins involved. "You okay?" Torin's voice in his military surplus PCU sounded distant. Flat. "Rough ride," he growled without relaxing his jaw. "You're thinking about the twins, aren't you?" "Might be." That had sounded more like Torin.

That's just what I need," she muttered, digging around in her bag, "a depressed vampire.

Lieutenant Commander Sibley added a few final flourishes as he brought the Jade up to cruising speed. "If you have to hurl, Staff Sargent, bite the black tab at the base of your faceplate. It'll open a pouch."
No answer. Not even the sound of a lost lunch.
"Staff?"
Her telltales were green. She was conscious. Heart pumping at sixty/sixty. Respiration slow and steady.
Then it dawned on him. While he'd been flying a pattern designed to test the limits of Human physiology, his passenger had gone to sleep.

It took him forever to get to downtown Vancouver although Tony had to admit that saving the world by public transportation was a particularly Canadian way to do things.

She'd followed him from the door to the condo into the tiny office even though he'd requested that she wait a minute in the living room. If he was going back to close his coffin, she had to see it.

You are here." Torin would have bet her pension that the graffiti scrawled next to it in a script she didn't recognize said, "And your luggage is in Antares," or a variation thereof.

Most people don't care who's in charge as long as someone is.

He read disappointment at his response and wondered if she realized that she expected a certain amount of effusive sympathy from the people she told. Rejecting that sympathy made her feel strong, compensating for what she perceived as her weakness. He suspected that the disease was the first time she hadn't been able to make everything come out all right through the sheer determination that it would be.

Large men in black plate mail with red cloaks and plumes don't sneak worth a damn.

Does he expect the flood to just move out of his way if he asks nicely?

You expecting a collapse, Gunny?" "The technical sergeant is repairing alien technology with a piece of torn uniform - I'm expected the Goddamned tunnel to blow up." "Ressk's helping." Mike's voice sounded muffled. "And that makes all the difference," Torin snorted.

Claire "The Elysian Fields Guest House? Why didn't he just call it the Vestibule to Hell?"
Dean "Because that would be bad for business?"
From Summon the Keeper

I'll send three of Harnet's Di'taken. I have it on good authority that they think the sun shines out of my ass."
Pole leaned forwards just enough to bring the major into his line of sight.
Pole - "All of them?"
Torrin - "Some of them are officers and thus blinded by the sun shining out of their own asses."
Pole - "Did you just say that?"
Torrin - "Yeah," Torrin offered him her hand. "Get over it.

That was opportunity knocking." She shoved the last empty coffee pouch into her pack. "You didn't answer, so it's buggered off to find someone who appreciates it.

Torin had never been a great believer in luck, preferring to trust in training, preparation, and strong artillery support, but it was impossible to deny the good fortune that had caused them to crash precisely where they had.

The Corps has always believed that the most powerful weapon its people possesses is between their ears.

And the politicians will note your protest, and it won't make a damned bit of difference.