Iron Druid Chronicles Quotes

As any war veteran will tell you, there is a vast difference between preparing for battle and actually facing battle for the first time. You can be told that reading Victor Hugo will sap your will to live, but you can't understand what it means until you've read a few chapters and your eyes are glazed over and someone has to revive you with a defibrillator. ~ Kevin Hearne

I jumped up and down and swore violently in seventeen languages. ~ Kevin Hearne

Huh ... guess they didn't want a cracker after all. Another myth BUSTED ~ Kevin Hearne

Mack woke up on a hard bunk, stone walls and iron bars so close they felt like they were closing in on him. ~ Allan Walsh

Flowers grow on her tiny wrought-iron balcony, and in summer she can estimate what time of day it is by feeling how wide the petals of the evening primroses have opened. ~ Anthony Doerr

After Death, there is Reincarnation. ~ Jeremy Shory

A memory: Isola as a toddler, sugarlump teeth, skin still smelling of milk. Hair that curled without use of an iron and sweet dresses that didn't matter were dirtied. When she was old enough, she demanded the usual suspects at bedtime: The Little Mermaid, Hansel and Gretel, Beauty and the Beast.
Even then, Mother's contempt for non-Pardieu fairytales was obvious.
'Hmph,' she snorted derisively, folding up her knees to perch on Isola's bed. 'Listen to me, Isola. The original Beauty's just an encouragement to young women to accept arranged marriages. What it's really saying to impressionable girls is, "Don't worry if your new husband is decades older than you, or ugly, or horrid. If you're sweet and obedient enough, you might just discover he's a prince in disguise!'

Mother's Most Lasting Advice
'Never be that girl, Isola. Never pick the beast or the wolf on the off-chance he won't devour you. ~ Allyse Near

The three most dangerous things in the world are a programmer with a soldering iron, a hardware type with a program patch and a user with an idea. ~ Rick Cook

I try to catch flies in cups and put them outside. After I wrote 'The Underland Chronicles' ... well, once you start naming cockroaches, you lose your edge. ~ Suzanne Collins

The girl spoke, a tone of command that rang like iron on stone. ~ Steven Erikson

A hand came out of the portal. On a surprising note - because everything else so far had been completely mundane - it wasn't decomposing.
A & E Kirk (2014-05-26). Drop Dead Demons: The Divinicus Nex Chronicles: Book 2 (Divinicus Nex Chronicles series) (p. 526). A&E Kirk. Kindle Edition. ~ A&E Kirk

Cassie, I want to be with you. Always. If that involves us being naked and making love in a hundred different ways, every day for the rest of our lives, that's fantastic. If it involves us sitting and talking, wearing barbed wire and cast-iron body suits, that's fantastic, too. I just want you. Now. A week from now. A year. A decade. Whenever you're ready. What I want is never going to change. It's you. Just you. Naked or clothed, doesn't matter to me. ~ Leisa Rayven

Since my earliest memory, I imagined I would be a chef one day. When other kids were watching Saturday morning cartoons or music videos on YouTube, I was watching Iron Chef,The Great British Baking Show, and old Anthony Bourdain shows and taking notes. Like, actual notes in the Notes app on my phone. I have long lists of ideas for recipes that I can modify or make my own. This self-appointed class is the only one I've ever studied well for.
I started playing around with the staples of the house: rice, beans, plantains, and chicken. But 'Buela let me expand to the different things I saw on TV. Soufflés, shepherd's pie, gizzards. When other kids were saving up their lunch money to buy the latest Jordans, I was saving up mine so I could buy the best ingredients. Fish we'd never heard of that I had to get from a special market down by Penn's Landing. Sausages that I watched Italian abuelitas in South Philly make by hand. I even saved up a whole month's worth of allowance when I was in seventh grade so I could make 'Buela a special birthday dinner of filet mignon. ~ Elizabeth Acevedo

This pen: this is nothing less than the driving of nails. Nails driving out my habits of discontent and driving in my habit of eucharisteo. I'm hammering in nails to pound out nails, ugly nails that Satan has pierced through the world, my heart. It starts to unfold, light in the dark, a door opening up, how all these years it's been utterly pointless to try to wrench out the spikes of discontent. Because that habit of discontentment can only be driven out by hammering in one iron sharper. The sleek pin of gratitude. I ~ Ann Voskamp

I have an iron lung, and the dog keeps me from getting too close to magnets.
[...]
I have SARS. He's tallying the people I infect.
[...]
I'm nearsighted. He helps me read the road signs.
[...]
I'm a recovering alcoholic. The dog gets between me and a beer.
[...]
I have an irregular heartbeat and he's CPR certified.
[...]
Color-blind. He tells me when the traffic lights change.
[...]
He translates for my Spanish-speaking clients.
[...]
He's a chick magnet.
[...]
I'm a lawyer. He chases ambulances for me. ~ Jodi Picoult

Your nation needs you. Your world needs you. So, use your education to become endowed with muscles of iron and nerves of steel. ~ Abhijit Naskar

Then her eyes narrowed. The sun was spilling in the window behind her and Dageus's eyes were golden, dappled with darker flecks. Smoky and sensual, fringed by thick dark lashes, but gold nonetheless.
"What is with your eyes?" she exclaimed. "Is it part of being
a Druid?"
"What color are they?" he asked warily.
"Gold."
He flashed her another unguarded smile. It was like basking in the sun, she thought, tracing her fingers over his beard-shadowed jaw, smiling helplessly back. ~ Karen Marie Moning

The Indians could not undertake any widespread cultivation of the plains not only because they lacked iron tools but also because they had no draft animals. ~ Ellsworth Huntington

Norma looked at him, puzzled. "Someone else to do the mathematics?"
"Of course!" Holtzman brushed iron-gray hair away from his face and adjusted his white robe. "You're an *idea* person, like me. We want you to develop concepts, not bother with full-fledged implementation. You should not waste time performing tedious arithmetic. Any halfway-trained person can do that. It's what slaves are for. ~ Brian Herbert

It may be that the Chronicles of Narnia may outlive The Allegory of Love, and Perelandra outlive them both. Few works of learning and criticism survive a hundred years; what it was learned to know in 1950 will be expected of scholarship-candidates in 2000; new things will be discovered, old notions disproved, other critical values asserted; but a piece of genuine imagination in fiction may have a long life. ~ Jocelyn Gibb

On the second Sabbat of Twelfthmoon, in the city of Weep, a girl fell from the sky.

Her skin was blue, her blood was red.

She broke over an iron gate, crimping it on impact, and there she hung, impossibly arched, graceful as a temple dancer swooning on a lover's arm. One slick finial anchored her in place. Its point, protruding from her sternum, glittered like a brooch. She fluttered briefly as her ghost shook loose, and torch ginger buds rained out of her long hair.

Later, they would say these had been hummingbird hearts and not blossoms at all.

They would say she hadn't shed blood but wept it. That she was lewd, tonguing her teeth at them, upside down and dying, that she vomited a serpent that turned to smoke when it hit the ground. They would say a flock of moths came, frantic, and tried to lift her away.

That was true. Only that.

They hadn't a prayer, though. The moths were no bigger than the startled mouths of children, and even dozens together could only pluck at the strands of her darkening hair until their wings sagged, sodden with her blood. They were purled away with the blossoms as a grit-choked gust came blasting down the street. The earth heaved underfoot. The sky spun on its axis. A queer brilliance lanced through billowing smoke, and the people of Weep had to squint against it. Blowing grit and hot light and the stink of saltpeter. There had been an explosion. They might have died, all and ~ Laini Taylor

An age that needs security guards is, of course, without security.
What do we have in the dull old days? Old man janitors in the schools; watchmen in the factories, and the watchman was usually the turbanned bearded Bombay armed only with a stick, drowsing on a stool by a gate. How his strong odor remembered now seems the very smell of safety!
In his place now lurks the man in uniform, armed with pistol and club and submachine gun: the "security" that stands for the insecurity of our times, being the human equivalent of the iron bars at the window, the barbed wire on the wall. ~ Nick Joaquin

Like the bad guy said, never give an artist a Browning; they're some of the most dangerous folks you can meet ... Artists almost always want an audience, the spectacle of destruction. That name - Dadaist. It's a dead giveaway. Expect a senseless act of mass violence, the theater of cruelty. About all I can do is try and keep him talking while you get in position to kill him. And don't give him anything he might mistake for an audience."
Charles Stross, "Iron Sunrise. ~ Charles Stross

And men said that the blood of the stars flowed in her veins ~ C.S. Lewis

Millions of students now, in all the schools of America, are reading science fiction and especially, thank God, 'The Martian Chronicles.' ~ Ray Bradbury

We have a saying in Vaan," Byern replied.
"In every breath, hope abides."
(...)
"Just keep breathing, little Crow. ~ Jay Kristoff

I slept and saw God's forge in frost. Its hearth was quelled, and as it cooled so swooned the verdancy it kept above. In slumber it grew a thick winter skin, white as bedsheets. In their folds the waker dreamt, her breath as steam, her touch as hot as iron, forgotten in the fire. ~ Andrew Hussie

Now, years later and with Carnegie's blessing, Frick had launched his plan to further consolidate his rule over their industrial kingdom by destroying the Amalgamated Association of Iron and Steel Workers. The labor union, formed in 1876, was one of many that emerged in the industrial age to combat the cruel and oppressive treatment of workers. In the steel mills, workers typically put in 12-hour days, six days a week, for less than a dime an hour. There were no government agencies to inspect the work sites, no forms of compensation in case of injury, and more than 35,000 workers died each year in industrial accidents. Only the unions offered some hope by fighting for higher wages, eight-hour workdays, and improved working conditions. ~ James McGrath Morris

I don't care what he thinks. Only what you think." He holds me tighter. "Like if you think I need to stop biting my nails."
"You've worn your pinkies to nubs," I say cheerfully.
"Or if I need to start ironing my bed spread."
"I DO NOT IRON MY BED SPREAD."
"You do. And I love it. ~ Stephanie Perkins

The ball sack is supposed to be wrinkly; they're not bloody worry lines! I can't believe there's a machine that fixes this. I don't even own an iron. Balls don't need ironing! They're like a shellsuit, they're meant to be crease-looking. And anyway, I've sat on them most of the time, so they'd only get creased again. As for getting your arse bleached, I don't know what to make out that. I couldn't tell you what mine looks like. If you showed five photos of various anuses, I couldn't pick mine out from a line-up. I never understood why barbers used to show me the back of my head in a mirror after a quick trim, so I certainly wouldn't worry about the colour of my anus. I'd say if you're worrying about the colour of your anus, things must be good, as you can't have proper worries in your life. ~ Karl Pilkington

Briony scared?" said Eldric. "I've never seen anyone less scared in my life. She has nerves of iron. ~ Franny Billingsley

Harmony glanced to her left, and my gaze followed hers to the living room, where my aunt had died, my cousin had been restored, and I'd whacked a psychotic grim reaper with a cast-iron skillet.
Weirdest. Tuesday. Ever. ~ Rachel Vincent

And at midnight there came an apparition in hell. A handsome dark-eyed man with a dagger-like beard, in a tailcoat, stepped onto the veranda and cast a regal glance over his domain. They used to say, the mystics used to say, that there was a time when the handsome man wore not a tailcoat but a wide leather belt with pistol butts sticking out from it, and his raven hair was tied with scarlet silk, and under his command a brig sailed the Caribbean under a black death flag with a skull and crossbones.
But no, no! The seductive mystics are lying, there are no Caribbean Seas in the world, no desperate freebooters to sail them, no corvette chases after them, no cannon smoke drifts across the waves. There is nothing, and there was nothing! There is that sickly linden over there, there is the cast-iron fence, and the boulevard beyond it…And the ice is melting in the bowl, and at the next table you see someone's bloodshot, bovine eyes, and you're afraid, afraid…Oh, gods, my gods, poison, bring me poison!... ~ Mikhail Bulgakov

His dad's a human lie detector," Ayden said.
"That's his power."
"Fascinating!" Jayden was almost gleeful.
"Yet another one you're immune to, so it seems. Like Tristan's hallucinating. And you can hold Matthias's whips. Perhaps you should try to drown me." I looked at him.
"Are you crazy? Next you'll want me to suffocate Logan!"
"Excellent," Jayden smiled.
"I hadn't thought of that."
"What?" Logan backed away.
A & E Kirk (2014-05-26). Drop Dead Demons: The Divinicus Nex Chronicles: Book 2 (Divinicus Nex Chronicles series) (p. 471). A&E Kirk. Kindle Edition. ~ A&E Kirk

Miss Renata Tebaldi was always sweet and very firm ... she had dimples of iron. ~ Rudolf Bing

Comparing the humped herds of whales with the humped herds of buffalo, which, not forty years ago, overspread by tens of thousands the prairies of Illinois and Missouri, and shook their iron manes ~ Herman Melville

I like cast iron coated with enamel for longevity and forgiveness if I happen to take my eyes off the prize while pouring Chianti. ~ Mario Batali

Children make prayers so thoughtlessly, building them up like sand castles - and they are always surprised when suddenly the castle becomes real, and the iron gate grinds shut. ~ Catherynne M Valente

In the bleak midwinter
Frosty wind made moan,
Earth stood hard as iron,
Water like a stone;
Snow had fallen,
Snow on snow,
Snow on snow,
In the bleak midwinter,
Long ago. ~ Christina Rossetti

In the military, if we don't know something, we say we don't know and proceed to shut up until we do. Some highly paid charlatans in the media think it's absolutely fine to take a wild guess at the truth and then tell a couple of million people it's cast-iron fact, just in case they might be right ... I hope they're proud of themselves, because they nearly broke my mom's heart ... ~ Marcus Luttrell

For the LORD your God is bringing you into a good land - a land with streams and pools of water, with springs flowing in the valleys and hills; a land with wheat and barley, vines and fig trees, pomegranates, olive oil and honey; a land where bread will not be scarce and you will lack nothing; a land where the rocks are iron and you can dig copper out of the hills. ~ Beth Moore

I have seen giraffes in junglejims
their necks like love
wound around the iron circumstances
of the world. ~ Lawrence Ferlinghetti

I wear the mask. It does not wear me. ~ Man In The Iron Mask

I had 'em set a table for ye in 'ere," he explained, nodding at the dishes. "Thought ye might like some stew."
"No, thank you." Her stomach growled audibly and he arched his eyebrows again, a gesture that Sibyl found infuriating. Almost as infuriating as being called "skinny." And "lass."
"This jus' rabbit." He smiled like he could read her mind, going over to the fire and using a long, thick pole with hooked end to lift a black iron pot. "We don't eat humans, Sibyl. ~ Selena Kitt

Through every trial we grow. All suffering we experience has a meaning. Though it seems very cruel, it is like the fire that smelts the iron ore: the steel that emerges from that furnace is beautifully strong, useful for many purposes. ~ Paramahansa Yogananda