Blay Qhuinn John Humour Quotes

Scrambling through the drifts, Blay rushed over and landed on his knees. Qhuinn was sprawled on the ground, his long, heavy legs stretched out, his upper body in John's lap.
The male just stared at him with those mismatched eyes, unmoving, unspeaking.
"Is he paralyzed?" Blay demanded, looking over at John.
"Not that I'm aware of," Qhuinn replied dryly.
I think he's got a concussion, John signed.
"I do not - "
He went flying off the hood of his car and hit this tree
"I mostly missed the tree - "
And I've had to hold him down ever since.
"Which is pissing me off - ~ J.R. Ward

Call me," she whispered to him with a confidence that would fade as the days passed.
Qhuinn smiled a little. "Take care."
At the sound of the two words, Blay relaxed, his big shoulders easing up. In Qhuinn-landia, "Take care" was synonymous with "I'm never going to see, call or fuck you again. ~ J.R. Ward

When they got to thew bottom of the stairwell, they stopped dead. Blay's father was facing off with a lesser, a Civil War sword in one hand, a dagger in the other.
Behind his Joe Friday glasses, his eyes were lit like torches, and they flicked over for a split second. "Stay out of this. This one's mine."
The shit was done faster than you can say, Ninja Dad.
Blay's father went Ginsu on the slayer, carving the thing up like a turkey, then stabbing it back to the Omega. ~ J.R. Ward

You almost died tonight, he wanted to say. You dumb son of a bitch, you nearly died ... and then what would we have done?
And not "we" as in the Brotherhood.
Not even "we" as in he and John.
More like ... "me". ~ J.R. Ward

You're a freak. But I really can't accept these-'
Were you raised in a barn? Don't be ruuuuuude, my boy. They're a gift.'
Blay shook his head. 'Take them, John. You're just going to lose this argument, and it will save us from the theatrics.'
Theatrics?' Qhuinn leaped up and assumed a Roman oratory pose. 'Whither thou knowest thy ass from thy elbow, young scribe?'
Blay blushed. 'Come on-'
Qhuinn threw himself at Blay, grasping onto the guy's shoulders and hanging his full weight off him. 'Hold me. Your insult has left me breathless. I'm agasp.'
Blay grunted and scrambled to keep Qhuinn up off the floor. 'That's agape.'
Agasp sounds better.'
Blay was trying not to smile, trying not to be delighted, but his eyes were sparkling like sapphires and his cheeks were getting red. With a silent laugh, John sat on one of the locker room benches, shook out his pair of white socks, and pulled them on under his new old jeans. 'You sure, Qhuinn? 'Cause I have a feeling they're going to fit and you might change your mind.
Qhuinn abruptly lifted himself off Blay and straightened his clothes with a sharp tug. 'And now you offend my honor.' Facing off at John, he flipped into a fencing stance.
Touché.'
Blay laughed. 'That's en garde, you damn fool.'
Qhuinn shot a look over his shoulder. 'ça va, Brutus?'
Et tu?'
That would be tutu, I believe, and you can keep the cross-dressing to yourself, ya perv.'
Qhuinn flashed a b ~ J.R. Ward

With a quick jerk, Qhuinn wrapped his arms around the single most important person in his life. It was not Layla, although he felt a pang at that denial. It was not John, or his king. It wasn't the brothers. This male was the reason for everything. ~ J.R. Ward

Just once" Blay said softly. "Do it just once. So I'll know what it's like. ~ J.R. Ward

Dolchyme: "It's ... just that ... we don't get many of your kind around here. Stormling folk and all that.
Anadyr: "I'm a Storm Lord, actually."
Dolchyme: "Sheesk - if I'm not in the presence of royalty then. ~ John Hennessy

The Slave master named Mahmel Was a nasty kind of thug, so Stiggy dropped a rock on him and squashed him like a bug. ~ John Flanagan

The male who'd just arrived laughed as he embraced Qhuinn. You have such a way with words, cousin. I would say ... trucker meets sailor crossed with a twelve-year-old. ~ J.R. Ward

Especially as Blay's face came to mind. So beautiful. So very, very beautiful. It seemed silly and emasculating to call the guy that, but he was. Those damn lips were the problem ... nice and cushioned on the bottom. Or maybe the eyes? So fucking blue.
He'd kissed that mouth and loved it. Seen those eyes go wild.
He could have had Blay first - and only. But instead? His cousin ...
"Oh, God ... " he groaned. ~ J.R. Ward

A careful and sympathetic sense of humour can also be a great asset when there is need to get out of difficult situations gracefully. ~ John Allen Fraser

Great Gates almighty," HARV said inside my brain. "I go off-line for a few nanos and the whole world goes to DOS. ~ John Zakour

The Earth was form'd, but in the Womb as yet Of Waters, Embryon immature involv'd, Appeer'd not: over all the face of Earth Main Ocean flow'd, not idle, but with warme Prolific humour soft'ning all her Globe, Fermented the great Mother to conceave, Satiate with genial moisture, when God said Be gather'd now ye Waters under Heav'n Into one place, and let dry Land appeer. ~ John Milton

The Old Language really was beautiful, Blay thought. Staring at the symbols, for one brief, ridiculous moment he imagined his own name across Qhuinn's shoulders, carved into that smooth skin in the manner of the mating ritual.
Never going to happen. They were destined to be best friends ... which, compared to strangers, was something huge. Compared to lovers? It was the cold side of a locked door. ~ J.R. Ward

This guy was making me tired. "Thanks for the afternoon's entertainment," I said. "I'll flush a copy of my bill down the toilet. You should be getting it in a couple of days. ~ John Swartzwelder

It smells terrible in here.'
Well, what do you expect? The human body, when confined, produces certain odors which we tend to forget in this age of deodorants and other perversions. Actually, I find the atmosphere of this room rather comforting. Schiller needed the scent of apples rotting in his desk in order to write. I, too, have my needs. You may remember that Mark Twain preferred to lie supinely in bed while composing those rather dated and boring efforts which contemporary scholars try to prove meaningful. Veneration of Mark Twain is one of the roots of our current intellectual stalemate. ~ John Kennedy Toole

Like a good-looking John Merrick, mine was a face that looked really shit. ~ Alan Partridge

When you're drowning you don't think, I would be incredibly pleased if someone would notice I'm drowning and come and rescue me. You just scream. ~ John Lennon

The champagne had been donated by one of Gus's doctors - Gus being the kind of person who inspires doctors to give their best bottles of champagne to children. ~ John Green

Humour is a manifestation of freedom. It is because there is freedom that there is smile. ~ John Fowles

In fact the bare adjective "bad" hardly scratches the surface of the man's awesome incapacity. ~ John Biggins

With the supplies gathered, he went over to the stainless-steel sink and pressed the foot pedal to get the water running. While he washed his hands, he said quietly, "If I could, I would."
"Excuse me?"
Qhuinn pumped some suds into his palms and scrubbed all the way up his forearms. Which was overkill, but if Blay wanted him superclean, then that was what he was going to be. "If I could love a guy like that, it would be you. ~ J.R. Ward

What have you got in there you little bastard? ~ St John Morris

Don't worry, boss," HARV said. "I get the feeling that this is only the tip of the iceberg of complications."
"HARV, you're a machine. You don't get feelings."
"Would it make you feel better if I said I've done a numerical analysis on the probabilities and the results are skewed toward you having more problems with this case? ~ John Zakour

Humour breaks down boundaries, it topples our self-importance, it connects people, and because it engages and entertains, it ultimately enlightens. ~ John Agard

The clown knows that life is cruel. The ancient jester's motley coloured costume turned his usually melancholy expression in to a joke. The clown is used to loss. Loss is his prologue. ~ John Berger

Qhuinn got down on one knee. Just dropped right on to the depiction of an apple tree in full bloom. "I don't have a ring. I don't have anything fancy in my mind or on my tongue." Qhuinn swallowed hard. "I know this is too early, and that it's out of the blue, but I love you and I want us to - " For once in his life, Blay had to agree with the guy - enough with the fucking talking. With a decisive shift of his body, he leaned down and kissed all that conversation right into silence. Then he pulled back and nodded. "Yes. Yes, absolutely, yes ... ~ J.R. Ward

Edward shifted from one foot to the other, then headed to one of the younger knights from Carrick, leading his horse and their father's white mare. 'Sir Duncan, will you hold the horses?' 'That's your task, Master Edward,' chided the knight.
John de Warenne had ascended the platform beside Bishop Bek and was addressing the assembly. There were more men than benches and those who hadn't found a place had crowded in behind. Robert could no longer see his father and grandfather. He glanced round as Edward spoke again.
'Please, Duncan.' 'Why?' Edward paused. 'If you do, I won't tell my father you once tried to kiss Isabel.' The knight laughed. 'Your sister? I've never even spoken to her.' 'My father doesn't know that.' 'You're jesting,' said the knight, but his smile had disappeared. Edward didn't respond. The young knight's face tightened, but he held out his hand to take the reins. 'Wherever you're going, you had better be back here before the earl. ~ Robyn Young

It appears that countless women born between the years of 1965 and 1978 are in love with John Cusack. I cannot fathom how he isn't the number-one box office star in America, because every straight girl I know would see her soul to share a milkshake with that motherfucker. ~ Chuck Klosterman

I'd better go," he said, without leaving.
That one eye, the blue one, just kept staring up at him. Bloodshot, with a cut across the brow above it, the thing shouldn't have been able to focus. But it was.
"I have to go," Blay said finally.
Without leaving.
Damn him, he didn't know what the hell he was doing
A tear escaped from that eye. Welling up along the lower lid, it coalesced at the far corner, formed a crystal circle, and grew so fat it couldn't hold on to the lashes. Slipping free, it meandered downward, getting lost in dark hair at the temple. ~ J.R. Ward

I catch you without your ahstrux nohtrum again, I'm turning you in."
Qhuinn cursed. "Yeah, and then I'll get fired. Which means V'll Donald trump my ass with a dagger. You're welcome. ~ J.R. Ward

I do not dance,' said Jean-Claude, who had forsworn that exercise for much the same reasons as Miss Stevenson.

But here he spoke too soon, for Lady Dorothy Bingham, merciless to what she called 'ballroom skulkers', saw him standing about, ordered John to introduce him to her, and became his patroness.

Not till he had miserably danced twice with her and once with each of the twins did he have the brilliant idea of introducing her to his mother. The master minds met, and recognised each other, and for the greater part of the evening they discussed the care and subjugation of a family... ~ Angela Thirkell

As always, Blay was the anchor who kept him from being swept away. ~ J.R. Ward

You could lose the ones you loved in the blink of an eye - and he was willing to bet, when it happened, you weren't thinking about all the reasons that could have kept you apart. You thought of all the reasons that kept you together.
And, no doubt, how you wished you'd had more time. Even if you'd had centuries ...
When you were young, you thought time was a burden, something to be discharged as fast as possible so you could be grown-up. But it was such a bait-n-switch - when you were an adult, you came to realize that minutes and hours were the single most precious thing you had.
No one got forever. And it was a fucking crime to waste what you were given. ~ J.R. Ward

Sean Connery, in Vyshny Volochyok
in the rain on a drizzly solo trek,
said, "forgetting my sweater
has made me much wetter.
I certainly do miss my polo-neck."
- Arthur Shappey, Limerick, Cabin Pressure ~ John David Finnemore

The thingy? You want me, the most intelligent cognitive processor in the known worlds, to say thingy?"
"Yes," I reaffirmed. "That is correct."
Do you stay up nights thinking of ways to humiliate me?" HARV asked. ~ John Zakour

John Brooke is acting dreadfully, and Meg likes it! ~ Louisa May Alcott

Halt glared at his friend as the whistling continued.
'I had hoped that your new sense of responsibly would put an end to that painful shrieking noise you make between your lips' he said.
Crowley smiled. It was a beautiful day and he was feeling at peace with the world. And that meant he was more than ready to tease Halt 'It's a jaunty song'
'What's jaunty about it?' Halt asked, grim faced. Crowley made an uncertain gesture as he sought for an answer to that question.
'I suppose it's the subject matter' he said eventually. 'It's a very cheerful song. Would you like me to sing it for you?'
'N-' Halt began but he was too late, as Crowley began to sing. He had a pleasant tenor voice, in fact, and his rendering of the song was quite good. But to Halt it was as attractive as a rusty barn door squeaking.
'A blacksmith from Palladio, he met a lovely lady-o'
'Whoa! Whoa!' Halt said 'He met a lovely lady-o?' Halt repeated sarcastically 'What in the name of all that's holy is a lady-o?'
'It's a lady' Crowley told him patiently.
'Then why not sing 'he met a lovely lady'?' Halt wanted to know.
Crowley frowned as if the answer was blatantly obvious.
"Because he's from Palladio, as the song says. It's a city on the continent, in the southern part of Toscana.'
'And people there have lady-o's, instead of ladies?' Asked Halt
'No. They have ladies, like everyone else. But 'lady' doesn't rhyme with Palladio, does it? I could hardl ~ John Flanagan

Do you want to hold her?" Qhuinn asked.
Xcor recoiled as if someone had inquired whether he'd like a hot poker in his hands. Then he recovered, shaking his head as he made a manly show of scrubbing his tears away like they were permanent marker on his cheeks. "I don't think I'm quite ready for that. She looks…so delicate."
"She's strong, though. She's got her mahmen's blood in her, too." Qhuinn looked at Blay. "And she's got good parents. They both do. We're in this together, people, three fathers and one mom, two kids. Bam!"
Xcor's voice got low. "A father…?" He laughed softly. "I went from having no family, to having a mate, a brother, and now…"
Qhuinn nodded. "A son and a daughter. As long as you are Layla's hellren, you are their father, too."
Xcor's smile was transformative, so wide that it stretched his face into something she had never seen. "A son and a daughter."
"That's right," Layla whispered with joy.
But then instantly that expression on his face was gone, his lips thinning out and his brows dropping down like he was ready to go on the attack. "She is never dating. I don't care who he is - "
"Right!" Qhuinn put his palm out for a high five. "That's what I'm talking about!"
"Now, hold on," Blay interjected as they clapped hands. "She has every right to live her life as she chooses."
"Yes, come on," Layla added. "This double-standard stuff is ridiculous. She's going to be allowed…"
As the argument st ~ J.R. Ward

Next door to the Bensons is Emmet Frag, a retired pacemaker who is credited with inventing the notion of happiness. He's currently working on a method for categorising ducks based on their singing voice. He's also the owner of the world's largest collection of tenor geese. ~ St John Morris

His knees were held together by the skin-tight trousers, which consequently narrowed the aperture through which great quantities of malodorous, rancid dreck were shortly to emerge with great force. St John knew that this was likely to prove troublesome. Although his mid-morning bab was usually undertaken in a more perfunctory manner, he would still have been mindful enough to ensure that his trousers were well below the knee before he commenced the disagreeable act, but in his current predicament, he was in no state to dally. ~ St John Morris

Polysyllables obfuscate a preponderant ignorance with so much more style and panache. ~ John Patrick Lowrie

Qhuinn climaxed on his next swallow, the orgasm shooting out of him before he could think of any kind of boring and unattractive distraction, the pleasure cresting with such power, he sagged in his own skin. Blay's chuckle was erotic as hell. Whatever, payback was going to be a bitch, Qhuinn vowed to himself. ~ J.R. Ward

In the desert you always need water,' [Selethen] told [Horace]. 'A wise traveller never goes past a chance to refill his water skins.'
'Is there nowhere else they could do this?' Halt asked. Selethen tapped another mark into the sand with his dagger.
'There are the Orr-San Wells, he said. 'They're smaller and not as reliable. ~ John Flanagan

Let me kiss you." Qhuinn groaned as he leaned in. "I know I don't deserve it, but please ... it's what you can do for me. Let me feel you ... "
Qhuinn's mouth brushed his own. Came back for more. Lingered.
"I'll beg for it." More with the caress of those devastating lips. "If that's what it takes. I don't give a fuck, I'll beg ... ~ J.R. Ward

Say the word. Say the word and I won't go.
Say the word, Qhuinn. Do it and I'll spend the night with you.
Better yet, why don't you just kiss me- ~ J.R. Ward

Michael: "Thing is, I'd like to go out with you. What are you doing on Saturday?"
Siobhan: "Committing suicide."
Michael: "Alright then, what are you doing on Friday?"
(from Stormling, 2014) ~ John Hennessy