Wen Spencer Quotes

We thought we should list all legendary animals," Nigel explained – apparently without
realizing it – why they had visa problems. "Can't hurt to ask. Dragons are real, right?"
"Elves say they are." Jane desperately wanted a scotch but if she had one, Hal couldn't resist
needing one, and she didn't want go back down that road. "This list is suicidal if you're not
willing to defend yourself. This isn't Earth, where you can sit in your Jeep and take picture of
lions, or go sit in the middle of a bunch of apes. Most of these things will peel open an SUV like
it's a can of sardines and make a snack of everything inside."
"It would be amusing to watch but it would end badly for you," Hal murmured. It was hard to
tell if he was making a play on his previous statement or if he didn't realize he was repeating
himself.
"The list is a starting point." Nigel leaned forward, face lighting up with inner fire. "To get us
in the door. What we want is all of Elfhome. To revel in all that it has to offer. The virgin iron
wood forest. The beautiful immortal elves. The strange and magical beasts. And the humans that
live peacefully side by side with all this."
Jane shook her head, trying to resist the power of a TV host beaming at her one-on-one.
"Don't snow job me."
"I've seen this kind of shit before," Taggart said with quiet intensity. "When a country goes
dark, its means someone has something it's trying to

If only her problems were as simple as dealing with a handful of townspeople with pitchforks...

They will put that on my gravestone. 'Here lies Tinker, her heart was in the right place, but her foot was in her mouth and god knows where her brain went.

Just because we haven't seen a dragon, doesn't mean dragons don't exist." Louise stated the logic of why the scientists were reluctant to commit to a theory.

It's like you tune in to a supernatural event, and anyone who is destined to interact with that event picks up the same psychic signature. You tune in to radio-station freaky and write what you hear.

Because Miss Jenkins believes in learned behavior instead of rational thought. What we should be taught is compassionate response.

It was like having two children in the car with her. Okay, one child and a young adult that
kept backsliding. Hal, of course, was attempting to prove he was really only eight years old.
Taggart could resist the taunting part of the time. Nigel was the senile grandmother who never
noticed that the children were fighting. He sat in the backseat, smiling serenely at the passing
landscape. What made things worse was that Taggart called shotgun so he could film through the
front window. That made it so she couldn't reach Hal to swat him into silence. She found herself
tempted to hit Taggart just because he was beside her. And because he'd changed into a dark blue
silk shirt and cologne that smelled so good she just wanted to roll in it.
"I can kill us all," Jane growled, gripping the wheel tightly, and resisted the urge to drive the
production truck into the ditch to prove her point.
Somehow they reached downtown without her killing anyone.

They think that the past is dead. They don't see that the past is just the beginning of the future.

There were things that nothing could make right. They stayed hidden as black holes inside of you. You went on the best you could, pretending everything was fine.

It was comforting for only a moment. Then Joshua realized that the dude still had a seriously huge knife in his hand.
The part of him that was crying like a kicked puppy took off running. Unfortunately it took the rest of him with it.
"No! Nononono!" He cried even as he bolted. This was what scared him about being a werewolf. He wasn't in control of his body anymore. Because of his last name and small size, he'd always been a target of bullies. He'd learned early that they could hurt him but they couldn't control him if he didn't let them. And then he learned martial arts and they couldn't even hurt him anymore. In the last twenty-four hours, it had been as if he was strapped into a rollercoaster: all he could do was go for the ride and scream a lot.

It's like God is trying to tell us something when the most beautiful people in the world are racially mixed.

They wonder what is wrong with our country, but isn't it fairly obvious that if children are being treated like animals instead of rational beings, as adults they'll respond like monkeys?

Are you some kind of tree police?" Joshua asked without opening his eyes. "Do you feel as if you have some kind of civic duty to come out here and - and - annoy the hell out of me?"
"Well - yes - I do have a civic duty to stop you - that is - if you needed stopping. If you'd kept to simple tree assault, I would have just kept watching. It was fairly entertaining, in a train wreck kind of way. You've moved up to tree homicide."
"Homicide?" Joshua opened his eyes to give the man an annoyed glare. "That implies intent. At most, this is tree slaughter. Maybe even just reckless endangerment - it might not be dead."
They eyed the tree in silence. His kick had sheered the tree trunk off five inches from the roots, leaving behind a jagged white stump, flowing with sap.
"No, that's dead," the man said.
"Yeah." Joshua had to agree. It occurred to Joshua that this person might be undercover cop or some off-duty park ranger or a very lost Canadian Mountie or something. He'd seen Joshua destroy a piece of public property worth hundreds of dollars. The man might try to arrest him. That wouldn't end well for either one of them.

By lifting Widget up, Law had given her the power to help others. They were daisy-chained together; acts of goodwill looped back around. Law had saved Windwolf. He had protected her without even knowing how much he owed her. Tinker saved the tengu, and they in turn protected Usagi and her children. Around and around, kindness being paid forward until it returned. It was what Pittsburgh needed. What Elfhome needed; people helping one another without concern of clan or race or species.

Jillian had chosen their cutest dresses that made grown woman start talking in abnormally high voices. ("Oh, just look at you! Aren't you just so cute!" This wouldn't be so worrisome if it wasn't the same voice that women used with puppies.)

What is today? She'd lost track over the last few days.

Pixii shrugged. First day after firing the kiln.

Hate has always been the blinder used by those who own slaves. It allows those they enslave to only see those who escaped the yoke, and not the one that sits holding the reins. The moment you hear anyone fear-mongering and pointing fingers, you should look for the shackle on your ankle." "Don't

I'm so sick of these wussy princesses and evil women. We've done the evil witches of Sleeping Beauty and Rapunzel, the evil queen of Snow White and the evil stepmother of Cinderella. Is this some kind of campaign against femininity? Our choices are the evil and usually ugly powerful female or the helpless princess, desired just for her beauty? And what the heck is this shit about evil stepmothers anyway?

He knew nothing about werewolves but what was in the movies. He hadn't even believed they existed until he was attacked. The tall dude, though, knew.
Joshua managed to force his body to make a left-hand turn at the corner, and again once he was across the street, and then a third time. He came looping past the Kitchen Kitsch where the tall dude was standing in the hole in the wall.
"You're really conflicted about this running away part, aren't you?" the dude said as Joshua dashed past him.
"Yes!" He tried to put on the brakes but his body kept running. He could smell his own blood on the man and his body wanted nothing to do with that.
The dude wasn't standing in the hole as Joshua came looping back toward the Kitchen Kitsch a second time. Joshua was afraid he'd lost the man. He was so focused on the opposite side of the street that he nearly ran into the glass door that opened out in front of him. A hand caught him, jerking him into the building.

It was all horribly ironic that she felt like she would need to be insane to believe the proof that she had never been crazy.

Jane snorted out in disgust. "Okay, the good news is spotting the saurus just got a hell of a lot
easier. Plus we've got a ton of free bait."
"The bad news?" Taggart asked.
"Smart boy. Cookie for knowing that there's bad news." Jane eased her SUV across the worn
divided line to drive along the berm. "Bad news, Pittsburgh beef cows are the meanest son-of-abitches."
"So, we have to dodge several tons of pissed off sirloin while filming one hungry dinosaur?"
"Welcome to Pittsburgh.

I do not let other people define me. I am who I am, and that is an intelligent and gracious human being. And as such, I do not drop to the level of bullies and trade insult for insult.

But you're stuck filming crap now." Hal snorted. "Chased by monsters? Better be damn good
at running."
"And exactly how do you get hurt filming a landscaping show?" Taggart retorted.
"If it can't kill us, we don't film it," Jane said, to stop the fighting before it could start. "There's
a lot of dangerous flora and fauna in Pittsburgh and it doesn't stay beyond the Rim. It comes into
people's backyards and sets up shop. We teach our viewers how to deal with it, but it means we
have to actually get close enough to get hurt."
"Deal with, as in kill?" Nigel seemed flabbergasted.
"This isn't Earth. These aren't endangered species. This morning we were dealing with a very
large strangler vine in a neighborhood with lots of children. There's no way to 'move' it to
someplace where it isn't a danger, especially while it's actively trying to kill anything that
stumbles into its path. Pets. Children. Automated lawnmowers."
"That one is always amusing to watch but it always ends badly for the lawnmower," Hal said.

Honor isn't about other people, it's about what you want to be," Louise said. "A hero does the good and noble thing. The villain allows fear or envy or selfishness to let him ignore what is right.