Lojacono Officer Quotes

Why are you so mad at me?" Norris shouted back. The neighbors could definitely hear them now. His throat dry, but he didn't care. "I'm sorry if I interrupted one of your dates, or whatever, but I DID NOT DO ANYTHING! Ground me for leaving prom, ground me for drinking, but I didn't drive, I didn't have unprotected sex, I didn't even get high! You know that! You're supposed to be on my side here, Mom!"
"NO!" she hurled back. "Not on this, Norris" I can't be!"
"Why the hell not?!"
"You know damn well! Trayvon Martin," she began. "Tamir Rice, Cameron Tillman, so many others that I can't remember all their names anymore!"
Norris knew too well. It was almost a ritual, even back in Canada. They would sit as a family and watch quietly. "Be smart out there," Felix used to say.
"You're not a handsome blue-eyed little Ken doll who's going to get a slap on the wrist every time he messes up. That, tonight?" she said, pointing to the door. "Do you know what that was? Do you?!"
"I-"
"That was a fucking coin flip, Norris. That was the coin landing heads." Her finger dug into his chest, punctuating every other word she was saying, spittle flying at his face. "Heads. A good one. Officer Miller, who has four sons, and luckily, mercifully, thank Jesus saw someone else's kid back-talking him tonight."
She exhaled, her breath Thai-food hot against his face.
"Tails." Her voice broke. "Tails, and I would be at the morgue right now identifying you! With so ~ Ben Philippe

Officer, this guy is not waiting around for me ... so you better shoot me or help me but decide now! ~ Jack Bauer

He called for a remount, and changed horses while I gently swelled with pride. I had never craved officer rank, particularly, but it was something to be rewarded for my efforts, and to know I still basked in the general's favour. ~ David Pilling

Here, dear reader, you must summon patient compassion. Try to imagine the hardships of a military officer triply burdened by close relationships with political leaders and the national news media, an Ivy League PhD, and wartime triumphs leading an elite airborne division. Our hero somehow survived in spite of it all. He rose against his handicaps, triumphing over the awful mark of Princeton University, that great gathering place for outcasts, rebels, and the socially obscure. He secured higher military rank even though he had been successful in combat. He adroitly worked CBS News, the Washington Post, and the United States Senate, yet still rose to prominence. ~ Chris Bray

No, no!" Nancy cried out. She then gave a quick but complete resume of what had taken place at the Tophams' cottage. Jeff Tucker added his account. Nancy reported what had taken place at the Tophams' cottage The police officer needed no further urging. Immediately he summoned four men and issued orders. ~ Carolyn Keene

One mark of a good officer, he remembered, was the ability to make quick decisions. If they happen to be right, so much the better ~ Larry Niven

Tushin did not tell him that there were no covering troops, though that was the plain truth. He was afraid to let down another officer that way and silently, with fixed eyes, looked straight into Bagration's face, as a confused student looks into his examiner's eyes. ~ Leo Tolstoy

My father was a diplomatic officer. As a diplomat's daughter, you have to learn to present yourself very early on. ~ Kathleen Turner

Gus, do I have to put you in a cage or something? Because I will! Don't push it, mister!"
"As an officer of the court, I feel obliged to speak up and tell you that child imprisonment is against the law," I said.
"Right. Well, then, I'll take that as your offer to babysit all four of my precious angels when you get home."
"Then again, cages can be very comfortable. ~ Kristan Higgins

To be a good soldier you must love the army. But to be a good officer you must be willing to order the death of the thing you love. That is ... a very hard thing to do. No other profession requires it. That is one reason why there are so very few good officers. Although there are many good men. ~ Michael Shaara

I looked into corruption in Afghanistan through a work called 'Payback' and impersonated a police officer, set up a fake checkpoint on the street in Kabul and stopped cars, but instead of asking them for a bribe, offered them money and apologized on behalf of the Kabul Police Department. ~ Aman Mojadidi

Some of them screamed. Some of them wept. Some of them grinned like LSD was a blast. A case officer said John Stanton hatched the idea - lets flood Cuba with this shit before we invade. Langley co-signed the brainstorm. Langley embellished it: Let's induce mass hallucinations and stage the second coming of Christ!!!! Langley found some suicidal actors. Langley dolled them up to look like J.C. Langley had them set to pre-invade Cuba concurrent with the dope saturation. Peter howled. The case officer said, 'It's not funny.' A drug-zorched peon whipped out his wang and jacked off. ~ James Ellroy

BILLY: Did you ever watch Star Trek?
MACHIAVELLI: Do I look like I watch Star Trek?
BILLY: It's hard to tell who's a Trekkie.
MACHIAVELLI: Billy, I ran one of the most sophisticated secret service organizations in the world. I did not have time for Star Trek. (pause) I was more of a Star Wars fan. Why do you ask?
BILLY: Well, when Captain Kirk and Mr. Spock beamed down to a planet, usually with Dr. McCoy and sometimes with Scotty from engineering...
MACHIAVELLI: Wait a minute--what's Mr. Spock again?
BILLY: A Vulcan.
MACHIAVELLI: His rank.
BILLY: The first officer.
MACHIAVELLI: So the captain, the first officer, the ship's doctor, and sometimes the engineer all beam down to a planet. Together. The entire complement of the senior officers?
BILLY: (nods)
MACHIAVELLI: And who has command of the ship?
BILLY: (shrug) I don't know. Junior officers, I guess.
MACHIAVELLI: If they worked for me I'd have them court-martialed. That sounds like a gross dereliction of duty.
BILLY: I know. I always thought it was a little odd myself. ~ Michael Scott

Aren't you a little young to be a captain? Not that I'm sure you weren't wonderful at it," I added hastily, "but Frank's got to be your same age, and Mr. Graces and Mr. Liu are both older than you. How on earth did it happen?"
He shut down. It was like a curtain being pulled across a window. This was a subject he definitely did not wish to discuss.
"The title is honorary," he said, not meeting my gaze. "I can't stop them calling me that, even though I've asked them not to. I was the highest-ranking officer to survive the…accident."
Accident? I supposed this was another one of those things he didn't want to tell me because it would make me hate him.
Recognizing that dropping that particular topic-for now at least-would probably be best. I said, "John, I can warn you about the Furies. And I know exactly where the coffin is. All you have to do is take me back to Isla Huesos-just this one time, to help Alex-and I'll never mention going there again. I'll even," I said, reaching up to straighten the collar of his leather jacket, which had gone askew, "forgive you for the waffles-"
John seized me by both shoulders, pulling me towards him so abruptly that Hope gave an alarmed flap of her wings.
"Pierce," he said. "Do you mean that?"
When I pushed back some of the hair that had tumbled into my face and raised my dark eyes to meet his light ones, I saw that he was staring down at me with an intensity that burned.
"You'll never mention going back ~ Meg Cabot

And I served as an officer in the army."
"Very impressive. I've been told that war is boredom interspersed with violence and terror. ~ Julie Anne Long

The campus police officer folded his hands and stared at me from across the table. "Coffee?" "What flavor is it?" I asked. He was in his forties, a big, solid man with bags under his calm, wary eyes, and his name tag read dean. "It's coffee-flavored coffee." "No mocha?" "Fuck mocha." "Thank God," I said. "Black. ~ Jim Butcher

So, the moral of that story, other than never underestimate an independent bookseller, was that the Continental Army and its commander in chief had a soft spot for Chief Artillery Officer Henry Knox. ~ Sarah Vowell

I was on duty when our submarine went into port in Nassau and tied up at the Prince George Wharf, and I was the officer who accepted an invitation from the governor-general of the Bahamas for our officers and crewmen to attend an official ball to honor the U.S. Navy. There was a more private comment that a number of young ladies would be present with their chaperones. All of us were pleased and excited, and Captain Andrews responded affirmatively. We received a notice the next day that, of course, the nonwhite crewmen would not be included. When I brought this message to the captain, he had the crew assemble in the mess hall and asked for their guidance in drafting a response. After multiple expletives were censored from the message, we unanimously declined to participate. The decision by the crew of the K-1 was an indication of how equal racial treatment had been accepted - and relished. I was very proud of my ship. On leave ~ Jimmy Carter

Snapping shut his mobile, Dalgliesh reflected that murder, a unique crime for which no reparation is ever possible, imposes it own compulsions as well as it's conventions. He doubted whether Macklefield [the murder victim's Will attorney] would have interrupted his country weekend for a less sensational crime. As a young officer he, too, had been touched, if unwillingly and temporarily, by the power of murder to attract even while it appalled and repelled. He had watched how people involved as innocent bystanders, provided they were unburdened by grief or suspicion, were engrossed by homicide, drawn inexorably to the place where the crime had occurred in fascinated disbelief. The crowd and the media who served them had not yet congregated outside the wrought-iron gates of the Manor. But they would come, and he doubted whether Chandler-Powell's [owner of the Manor where the murder was committed] private security team would be able to do more than inconvenience them. ~ P.D. James

I talked to General Downer about some of the funding about the National Guard and some of the civil defense workers, the firefighters, the police officers, and the way that FEMA is making them spend that money. We have got a problem there. ~ Lynn Westmoreland

the remark of a Middlesex Regiment officer in 1918. "Intelligence services," the man had said, "are prone to looking up their own arses and wondering why it's dark. ~ David Downing

I've never struggled with that at all. In the state of Texas, if you come into our state and you kill one of our children, you kill a police officer, you're involved with another crime and you kill one of our citizens, you will face the ultimate justice in the state of Texas, and that is you will be executed. ~ Rick Perry

At the time of Caliph Omar's invasion of Egypt, the Arab officer on duty in the destruction of the library of Alexandria used two stamps with which he marked the books. One said: 'Does not agree with the Koran - heretic, must be burned'. The other said: 'Agrees with the Koran - superfluous, must be burned'. ~ Nils Kjaer

Miss Kay

Alan had a run-in with the police one Sunday morning while he was in New Orleans and as best he can recall, one of the officers said to him, "Let me talk to you. What are your mom and dad doing right now?"
"They're in church, where they always go," Alan answered.
"I knew," said the officer, "that you were raised different." In other words, the policeman could tell Alan was not what some people might call a "common criminal." The officer went on to speak some very strong words: "You have just done something really bad. Whatever you're doing here, pack it up. Go home and live like your mom and dad; go live like you were raised. I don't know your parents, but I have a feeling they will welcome you back like the Prodigal Son."
Phil and I had not been able to get through to Alan or influence him to change his ways while he was living with us, but that policeman in New Orleans sure got through to him. Sometimes we wonder if that policeman was an angel. Whether he was or was not, God definitely used him to get Alan back where he needed to be.
Alan left "the Big Easy" right away and came back to us. He started walking with God again; he reconnected with Lisa. He and Phil began studying the Bible together; Phil baptized him in the river by our house, and he has been a totally different person ever since. ~ Korie Robertson

Of course I know what she means. To make art in fandom is to follow your passion at the risk of never being taken seriously. I've written dozens of fics-put them together and you'd have several novels-but who knows what a college admissions officer will think of that as a pastime. Where does 12,000 Tumbler followers rate in relation to a spot in the National Honor Society in their minds? Every week I get anonymous messages in my inbox telling me I should write a real book. Well, haven't I already? What makes what I do different from "real writing"? Is it that I don't use original characters? I guess that makes every Hardy Boys edition, every Star Wars book, every spinoff, sequel, fairy-tale re-telling, historical romance, comic book reboot, and the music Hamilton "not real writing". Or is it that a real book is something printed, that you can hold in your hand, not something you write on the internet? Or is "real writing" something you sell in a store, not give away for free? No, I know it's none of these things. It's merely this: "real writing" is done by serious people, whereas fanfiction is written by weirdos, teenagers, degenerates, and women. ~ Britta Lundin

Bright headlights and wailing sirens approached the dormitory parking lot. They were the village fire trucks, painted red and carrying tanks of water.
One of the four trucks came to a stop in front of the police cruiser. The two firefighters hanging from beside the driver's seat leapt onto the ground and approached the police car. They were shocked to find a man handcuffed and bound to the car door. They were floored when they realized that the man was a police officer.
The firefighters approached the police officer, who stood hanging his head. Next to his head - on the doorframe - was posted a note.
[I set fire to an empty room and decided to arrest myself. I'm sorry for all the trouble. I must have gone crazy for a moment. I'm very very very very very very sorry.]
The firefighters silently exchanged glances. ~ Keiichi Sigsawa

..... he had ridden right through the gates of the palace. Of course, people rode through
the gates of the palace every day, but most of them needed the things to be opened first.
The guards on the other side were rigid with fear, because they thought they had seen a ghost.
They would have been far more frightened if they had known that a ghost was almost exactly
what they hadn't seen.
The guard outside the doors of the great hall had seen it happen too, but he had time to gather his
wits, or such that remained, and raise his spear as Binky trotted across the courtyard.
'Halt,' he croaked. 'Halt. What goes where?'
Mort saw him for the first time.
'What?' he said, still lost in thought.
The guard ran his tongue over his dry lips, and backed away. Mort slid off Binky's back and
walked forward.
'I meant, what goes there?' the guard tried again, with a mixture of doggedness and suicidal
stupidity that marked him for early promotion.
Mort caught the spear gently and lifted it out of the way of the door. As he did so the torchlight
illuminated his face.
'Mort,' he said softly.
It should have been enough for any normal soldier, but this guard was officer material.
'I mean, friend or foe?' he stuttered, trying to avoid Mort's gaze.
'Which would you prefer?' he grinned. It wasn't quite the grin of his master, but it was a pretty
effective grin and didn't have a trace of humour in it.
Terry Pratchett

In my proper character, I am an officer of the United States Army. ~ Zebulon Pike

Unless there's an officer-involved shooting or some other high-profile event going on, the Homicide Office is dead in the middle of the night. ~ Jonathan Maberry

He gave a little chuckle, but his eyes stayed wary and he did another glance around at all the men. His gaze came back to me and he showed me those suspicious cop eyes that said clearly I was full of shit and he didn't believe me. Didn't believe what, you might ask? He was a ten-year-plus veteran police officer; he didn't believe a damn thing that anyone told him. ~ Laurell K. Hamilton