Behind The Badge Quotes

I fully expect the police to come after me. To which I have just one thing to say: good luck. ~ J.D. Cunegan

Part of me is ahead and part of me is behind; and yet I dwell in His Peace in the present. An interesting dynamic. ~ Lisa Kay Hailey Blair

He handed me a bandana. "Tie that on."
"Why?" I said, but I did it anyway. "Norman, you are way too into ceremony."
"It's important." I could hear him moving around, adjusting things, before he came to sit beside me. "Okay," he said. "Take a look."
I pulled off the blindfold. Beside me, Norman watched me see myself for the first time.
And it was me. At least, it was a girl who looked like me. She was sitting on the back stoop of the restaurant, legs crossed and dangling down. She had her head slightly tilted, as if she had been asked something and was waiting for the right moment to respond, smiling slightly behind the sunglasses that were perched on her nose, barely reflecting part of a blue sky.
The girl was something else, though. Something I hadn't expected. She was beautiful.
Not in the cookie-cutter way of all the faces encircling Isabel's mirror. And not in the easy, almost effortless style of a girl like Caroline Dawes. This girl who stared back at me, with her lip ring and her half smile - not quite earned - knew she wasn't like the others. She knew the secret. And she'd clicked her heels three times to find her way home.
"Oh, my God," I said to Norman, reaching forward to touch the painting, which still didn't seem real. My own face, bumpy and textured beneath my fingers, stared back at me. "Is this how you see me?"
"Colie." He was right beside me. "That's how you are. ~ Sarah Dessen

Not a mouse
Shall disturb this hallow'd house:
I am sent with broom before;
To sweep the dust behind the door. ~ William Shakespeare

Are you guys ready? I told Peter we'd meet him at eight."
Margot opens the door. "Ready," she says, and she doesn't look happy.
Ravi steps out behind her, carrying his suitcase. "I'm just going to drop this off in the guest room, and then I'm all set," he sys.
As soon as he's gone, I whisper to Margot, "Did something happen?"
"Ravi didn't want to make a bad impression on Daddy by us staying in the same room. I told him it was fine, but he doesn't feel comfortable."
"That's very considerate of him." I wouldn't say so to Margot, but it was totally the right move. Ravi just keeps rising in my estimation.
Reluctantly she says, "He's a very considerate guy."
"Really handsome, too."
A smile spreads across her face. "And there's that. ~ Jenny Han

She beckoned her court forward.
Then smiled at Dorian and Chaol, at Yrene and Nesryn and Sartaq and their companions. And beckoned them forward, too.
Brows rising, they approached.
But Aelin, crowned and glowing, only said, "Walk with me." She gestured to the gates behind her. "All of you."
This day did not belong to her alone. Not at all.
And when they all balked, Aelin walked forward. Took Yrene Westfall by the hand to guide her to the front. Then Manon Blackbeak. Elide Lochan. Lysandra. Evangeline. Nesryn Faliq. Borte and Hasar and Ansel of Briarcliff. ~ Sarah J. Maas

Air traffic control is going to have a steamy old fit on your dime, boy.
They can get in line behind the police, the people whose cars we trashed, the Empire of Ob'enn, the Partnership Collective, and the Wormgate Corporation. Oh, and I think maybe some dark matter beasties from Andromeda.
You "think maybe"?
-General Tagon & Captain Andreyasn ~ Howard Tayler

Early on as news of the sextuple execution in Fort Smith spread, rooted itself in the umber soil of the western Indian Nations, and grew inthe the solid stalk of legend, the men whom Marshal Fagan appointed to swell the judge's standing army abanddonded the practice of introducing themselves as deputy U.S. marshals. Instead, when they entered the quarters of local law enforcement officers and tribal policemen to show their warrants, they said: "We ride for Parker."

Sometimes, in deference to rugged country or to cover ground, they broke up and rode in pairs or singles, but as the majority of the casualties they would suffer occurred on these occasions, they formed ragged escorts around stout little wagons built of elm, with canvas sheets to protect the passengers from rain and sun for trial and execution. With these they entered the settlements well behind their reputations. The deputies used Winchesters to pry a path between rubbernecks pressing in to see what new animals the circus had brought. Inside, accused felons, rounded up like stray dogs, rode in manacles on the sideboards and decks. At any given time-so went the rumor-one fourth of the worst element in the Nations was at large, one fourth was in the Fort Smith jail, and one fourth was on its way there in the 'tumbleweed wagons.'

"That's three-fourths," said tenderheels "What about the rest?'

"That fourth rides for Parker. ~ Loren D. Estleman

For many businesses, the fear behind their social media reluctance isn't just fear of failure but of blame and accountability - both individual and collective. ~ Jay Baer

Daring to look behind and look again
A-head for all the slowly coming days,
See nothing but the Carnivals of Peace,
Forget the dreams of death and other ways
Men have imagined for their own decrease...
I'd write a song to conquer all our tears
Lasting for ever through the folding years. ~ Nancy Cunard

I used to play Barbies with my Mormon neighbor friend; it was always, "Oh, we're going to go on a date. Ken's taking us out, and we're going with Ken on a date." And I was like, "We're parachuting behind enemy lines to save the Jews." That's how I played Barbies. I was told when I was a girl that every Jewish woman has to have five children to replace three fifths of our people that were killed. That's how I was raised. ~ Roseanne Barr

I can't be the center of your world, Kieli; it just won't do. I mean, if you stay like this, I wouldn't be able to go anywhere. I'll never be able to leave you behind again. Once I'm gone, what are you going to do?! ~ Yukako Kabei

I felt my hand curl into a fist. Felt my elbow draw back. Felt my arm dart forward, my knuckles crack into Cole's jaw. I couldn't stop myself. His head whipped to the side, and blood leaked from a cut in his lip. Behind me, gasps of shock abounded.

"I'm recovered," I said. "Believe me now?"

Those violet eyes slitted when they found me. "Assault and battery is illegal."

"So have me arrested."

He closed what little distance there was between us. Suddenly I could feel his warmth of his breath caressing my skin. "How about I put you over my lap and spank you instead?"

"How about I knee your balls into your throat?"

"If you're going to play with that particular area, I'd rather you use your hands."

"My hands aren't going near that area ever again."

A pause. Then, "I bet I could change your mind," he whispered huskily.

"I bet I could bash yours." I drew back another fist, but he was ready and caught me midswing. His pupils dilated, a sign of arousal. Another sign: he began to pant. He was acting like I'd tried to unbuckle his jeans rather than smack fire out of him.

"Hit me again," he said, still using the same whispered tone, "and I'll take it as an invitation."

I was just as bad. I trembled with longing I couldn't control and struggled to catch my breath. "An invitation to do what?"

His grip loosened, his fingers rubbing my skin. A caress, not a warn ~ Gena Showalter

And leaning on the windowsill to enjoy the day, gazing at the variegated mass of the whole city, just one thought fills my soul: that I profoundly wish to die, to cease, to see no more light shining on this city or any city, to think no more, to feel no more, to leave behind the march of time and the sun like a piece of wrapping paper, to remove like a heavy suit – next to the big bed – the involuntary effort of being. ~ Fernando Pessoa

My mother was the one who totally got behind me as far as, do things and ask questions later. My father would say, "I don't care how dirty you are up there, just be funny." Because they knew me offstage. They knew I was a good guy. They knew my whole plan of becoming the most exciting comedian, visually, ever. A real rock-and-roll stand-up comic. ~ Andrew Dice Clay

I thought I'd pay you a visit, my dear. Since you're so interesting."
My mouth shifted into high gear, leaving my brain behind. "You know, you're the second guy in a few days to call me that. You should be more creative. ~ Lilith Saintcrow

The concentration of all seven behind the stroke should be so strong that you know by feel when that stroke has varied his style or rating without the cox announcing it. ~ Phillip Thomas

Forty feet long sixty feet high hotel
Covered with old gray for buzzing flies
Eye like mango flowing orange pus
Ears Durga people vomiting in their sleep
Got huge legs a dozen buses move inside Calcutta
Swallowing mouthfuls of dead rats
Mangy dogs bark out of a thousand breasts
Garbage pouring from its ass behind alleys
Always pissing yellow Hooghly water
Bellybutton melted Chinatown brown puddles
Coughing lungs Sound going down the sewer
Nose smell a big gray Bidi
Heart bumping and crashing over tramcar tracks
Covered with a hat of cloudy iron
Suffering water buffalo head lowered
To pull the huge cart of year uphill ~ Allen Ginsberg

We got a memory so we can carry the past with us some, but we got a mind so we can leave it behind for a spell an' git on down the trail.

Marion Daniels, U.S. Marshal ~ David R. Lewis

And the boy's eyes are searching hers with something like loneliness, like the very last thing he wants is to be left behind right now. ~ Jennifer E. Smith

Now the expectation is that, once the public decides that the artist is gentrified, the public demands that the artist stop growing. And [the public] actually puts all their energy into reasserting or re-establishing what the artist has long ago left behind. Because that's what they want. The source of creativity, the gift that's been given, be damned. ~ Billy Corgan

A joke is a joke, and people put too much meaning behind it. They react to it in the wrong way. I mean, you can boo or laugh, and that's pretty much what you're supposed to do with jokes. You're not supposed to take it any further than that. ~ Dave Attell

You shouldn't come here alone, nekanoh." Startled, she turned. Red Shirt stood behind her, his hazel eyes on her and everything else at once. Was he remembering how she'd nearly drowned? "Nekanoh?" She echoed the strange word back to him. "It means 'friend' in Shawnee." Did he say that to soothe her, in case she felt frightened alone with him? Standing on the bank beside him, she was struck by how tall he was. Why, she didn't even reach his shoulder. Even outdoors he was physically imposing, dominating the woods as well as the cabin. "I didn't hear you," she said, then flushed at her foolishness. It was his habit not to be heard. A flicker of amusement seemed to lighten his intensity. "I know. I've followed you since you left the barn. ~ Laura Frantz

Her past is behind her, her future is of little concern. She moves towards the grave, at her own speed. ~ Anne Enright

Marie-Neige was on the shore, near the light, a tin outline. She lifted the lamp above her head and called out his name and he said Yes and she turned. She could see the ribs on his body as he came into more and more light. She placed the lamp on the grass and picked up her cotton dress and began drying her hair, so it was no longer plastered around her face, then came nearer to him and rubbed his hair dry with the dress. So now they looked as they did in a room, or across a table, no longer appearing as strangers to each other. On his knees, behind her, he pulled her thighs back to him in a slow rocking, as if he wanted her now to search for him, the heat of her cave onto his coldness, missing each other, and she said his name again and he moved into her, her softness and the unknown warmth.
How many stories were read between them in which they had discovered the codes of eventual love and said nothing in their shyness. She'd barely been touched by him - his cupped hands once on her shoulders, his hard grip when she pulled the splinter out of his eye, his holding her small hands across a table. It was as if they had both known what all this would be like, these doorways and reflections of each other, this cautious modesty and the secrets of herself she had hidden from others. All that witnessed them was a lamp in the grass. She moved back onto his lap so she could control their movement, slow him into more intimacy, so his hands could hold the quiver in her stomach and ~ Michael Ondaatje

Alec did not like new people. Whenever new Shadowhunters arrived from Idris, Alec would mysteriously slope off. Once Isabelle had found him lurking behind a large vase, claiming he got lost trying to find the training room. ~ Cassandra Clare

You'll play," Nadya said <..> "You would have stayed in your hellish mines if you were not going to play. Did you expect to return and find everything exactly like it was before you burned it to the ground? There are only ever ashes after a fire, Malachiasz, and I'll have you at my feet yet." His eyes narrowed, the faint smile never quite dropping from his lips even as the air around him turned dangerous. His tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. "We'll see, pet. ~ Emily A. Duncan

You will never stop seeing yourself. You can do nothing, you cannot escape yourself, you cannot escape your own gaze, you never will be able to: even if you were to fall into a sleep so deep that no shock, no shout, no burning pain could rouse you, there would still be this eye, your eye, that will never close, that will never sleep.
You see yourself, you see yourself seeing yourself, you watch yourself watching yourself. Even if you were to wake up, your vision would remain the same, immutable. Even if you managed to grow thousands, billions of extra eyelids, there would still be this eye, behind, which would see you. You are not asleep but sleep will never come again. You are not awake and you will never wake up. You are not dead and even death could never set you free."
-from "A Man Asleep ~ Georges Perec

I watch these kids.
They don't seem entirely unhappy. A few times I've even circled the Free Clinic on foot, trying to catch a closer glimpse of these kids and their lives as they pop in and out of the clinic's Sputnik-era, gone-to-seed building--Lancaster's future trolls and Popeyes loitering out back having hushed paranoid conversations. And once I even went to have a look where they hang out in a big way, out in the delivery bay behind the now-closed Donut Hut, the delivery bay grotto out back with a floor spongy with pigeon shit, chewing gum, cigarette ashes, and throat oysters--dank and sunless. I went to visit this place once when all the druggies were away, having their druggy lives downtown doing their druggy things: yelling at parked cars and having conversations with amber lights. I visited this place and I was confused: confused and attracted. Who do these people think they are? How can they not care about the future or hot running water or clean sheets or cable TV? These people. And on the walls down at the delivery bay, do you know what they had written? Written in letters several hands high, letters built of IV needles attached to the cement with soiled bandages and wads of chewing gum? They had written the words WE LIKE IT. ~ Douglas Coupland

The young man named Peter took her hand and led her into the starship. The door closed behind them. A moment later, the starship disappeared. ~ Anonymous

Stupid, infuriating, overgrown ass!" I hiss as I slam the back door behind me and stomp my foot for good measure. I'm home, I think to myself. I can finally throw a satisfying fit all by myself. Fuming, I stomp both of my feet on the kitchen floor again and again, picturing my cousin's face each time I bring my feet down. He is the most infuriating oaf on the face of the planet, and I want nothing more than to punch him. I'm still muttering to myself when I hear chuckling and jump in response.

Whirling around, I look up and find Flint standing by the coffee pot watching my display of temper and shaking his head. "I certainly hope you're not talking about me."

I scowl at him. "For once, no. You may be an infuriating ass, but I've never considered you stupid. Looks like sparking my temper isn't an exclusive ability of yours, after all. ~ Allana Kephart

Sympathy, conscience, disgust, despair, repentance, and atonement are for us repellent debauchery. To sit down and let oneself be hypnotized by one's own navel, to turn up one's eyes and humbly offer the back of one's neck to Gletkin's revolver - that is an easy solution. The greatest temptation for the like of us is: to renounce violence, to repent, to make peace with oneself. Most great revolutionaries fell before this temptation, from Spartacus to Danton and Dostoevsky; they are the classical form of betrayal of the cause. The temptations of God were always more dangerous for mankind than those of Satan. As long as chaos dominates the world, God is ananachronism; and every compromise with one's own conscience is perfidy. When the accursed inner voice speaks to you, hold your hands over your ears. ..." He felt for the bottle behind him and poured out an other glass. Rubashov noticed that the bottle was already half empty. You also could do with a little solace, he thought.

"The greatest criminals in history," Ivanov went on, "are not of the type Nero and Fouché, but of the type Gandhi and Tolstoy. Gandhi's inner voice has done more to prevent the liberation of India than the British guns. To sell oneself for thirty pieces of silver is an honest transaction; but to sell oneself to one's own conscience is to abandon mankind. History is a priori amoral; it has no conscience. To want to conduct history according to the maxims of the Sunday school means to leave every ~ Arthur Koestler

I did what any reasonable adult woman would do when confronted with her college rival turned next-door neighbor. I dove behind the nearest bookshelf. ~ Emily Henry

So apparently, it would be better for the human race if Shiraha and I didn't mate. Since I'd never had sex, and the very thought of it was ghastly, I was quite relieved about this. I would carry my genes carefully to my grave, being sure not to rashly leave any behind. And I would dispose of them properly when I died. ~ Sayaka Murata

I am not one of those people who string their exes along. Instead, I run and hide: under the covers, behind my computer screen, on opposite coasts of the country. ~ Jami Attenberg

You know what, Sam? We created the council to take pressure off of you. Because you were falling apart."
Sam just stared at her. Not quite believing she'd said it. And Astrid seemed shocked herself. Shocked at the venom behind her own words.
"I didn't mean…," she started lamely, but then couldn't find her way to explaining just what it was she didn't mean.
Sam shook his head. "You know, even now, as long as we've been together it still surprises me that you can be so ruthless."
"Ruthless? Me?"
"You will use anyone to get what you want. Say anything to get your way. Why was I ever even in charge?" He stabbed an accusing finger at her. "Because of you! Because you manipulated me into it. Why? So I would protect you and Little Pete. That's all you cared about."
"That's a lie!" she said hotly.
"You know it's the truth. And now you don't have to bother manipulating me, you can just give me orders. Embarrass me. Undercut me. But as soon as some problem hits, guess what? It'll be, oh, please, Sam, save us."
"Anything I do, I do for everyone's good," Astrid said.
"Yeah, so you're not just a genius now, you're a saint. ~ Michael Grant