Rosie Black Chronicles Quotes

Hey, I'm still the walking wounded, you know," he protested.
"You were shot on the other side," Rosie said drily. "And since when do you and Dalton agree on anything?"
"We are men." Pip and Dalton straightened up. "We settle out differences through fighting and drink." He held up the fine crystal tumbler, then frowned at it. "Though maybe not in this kind of glass. ~ Lara Morgan

Don't be a hero for me."
Only for you, Rosie thought but didn't say it. ~ Lara Morgan

Pip was trembling with fatigue. "I gotta sit down."
He made it to a chair before he collapsed and Cassie was immediately there with a medikit, pulling up his shirt, examining gel patches. He'd felt them stop working some time ago and they were now dried and covered in dirt.
"Stop trying to get my clothes off, woman!" He made a weak attempt to fend her off, but she smacked his hands away. ~ Lara Morgan

Well, they asked for it," Essie said. "People should learn not to mess with the Black women. ~ Lara Morgan

No, she doesn't look like she's from anywhere near Central, does she? You a dirt-muncher too, newbie, fresh off the farm? Or are you more of a river rat?"
"Why?" Rosie said. "You looking for lost relatives?"
Gillian snorted and San's face became an angry shade of puce. ~ Lara Morgan

Go pulse burn yourself. ~ Lara Morgan

Blake." Ayden tried not to laugh while he latched his keys to his pocket chain.
"Put her down." A sleek black BMW screeched into the drive and Matthias leapt out, not bothering to shut the door before he strode up full of quivering tension.
"You called Matthias?" Ayden said. Blake pointed at the blond. "Tristan panicked."
"I didn't - okay, I panicked."

A & E Kirk (2012-01-07). Demons at Deadnight (Divinicus Nex Chronicles series Book 1) (p. 222). A&E Kirk. Kindle Edition. ~ A. Kirk

You need some help, Rosie?"
His footsteps quicken behind me, and before I can respond, I feel his calloused hands on my waist. I accidently slide back against his chest and inhale the scent that has always clung to his whole family - something like forests, damp leaves, and sunshine. I suppose when your father is a woodsman you're bound to carry the scent of oak in your veins. One breath is all I get the chance for, though; he kicks the door open and sets me down on the front stoop, then takes a step back. I turn to face him, hoping to thank him for the help and in the same sentence admonish him for carrying me like a little girl.
Instead, I smile. He's still Silas - Silas who left a year ago, the boy just a little older than my sister. His eyes are still sparkling and expressive, hair still the brown-black color of pine bark, body broad-shouldered and a little too willowy for his features. He's still there, but it's as if someone new has been layered on top of him. Someone older and stronger who isn't looking a me as if I'm Scarlett's kid sister . . . someone who makes me feel dizzy and quivery. How did this happen?
Calm down. It's just Silas. Sort of.
"You're staring," he says cautiously, looking worried.
"Oh. Um, sorry," I say, shaking my head. Silas shoves his hands into his pockets with a familiar sway. "It's just been a while, that's all."
"Yeah, no kidding. You're heavier than I remember."
I frown, mortified.
"Oh, no, wait. I di ~ Jackson Pearce

Wait," said Ragnor, and he started to snigger. "Is this about your Nephilim boyfriend?"
"Our relationship is as yet undefined," said Magnus with dignity. Then he clutched the phone and hissed, "And how do you know private details about my personal life with Alexander?"
"Ooooh, Alexander," Ragnor said in a singsong voice. "I know all about it. Raphael called and told me."
"Raphael Santiago," said Magnus, thinking darkly of the current leader of the New York vampire clan, "has a black ungrateful heart, and one day he will be punished for this treachery. ~ Cassandra Clare

Immediately Chelsea latched onto her wrist and pulled Veronica's hand toward the cup. "Nonsense." Chelsea's eyes narrowed in on Veronica. Her eyes turned black and her mouth opened slightly, revealing her fangs. "Now drink up, researcher. Don't let a good drink go to waste. ~ Isaiyan Morrison

The buzzer rang. Magnus pressed the button to let him enter, speechless for a moment because he had wanted Alec there, so badly, and here he was. It felt more like magic than anything he could do.
Then Alec was there, standing in the open doorway.
"I wanted to see you," said Alec with devastating simplicity. "Is this okay? I can go away if you're busy or anything."
It must have been raining a little outside. There were sparkling drops of water in Alec's messy black hair. He was wearing a hoodie that Magnus thought he might have found in a Dumpster, and sloppy jeans, and his whole face was lit up just because he was looking at Magnus.
"I think," said Magnus, pulling Alec in by the strings on his awful gray hoodie, "that I could be persuaded to clear my schedule. ~ Cassandra Clare

Were you acquainted with me, you would know that my failings are equal to my victories. On my own, I am no more than a pauper. It is the Prince for whom I live and for whom I fight. He raised me from the mire and made me a son. I will aspire to serve Him to the utmost, and perhaps my duty to Him will be fulfilled more as a herald than as a warrior, for if my quill and ink capture your attention and cause you to ponder the chronicles of this great kingdom and the story of the Prince, then I am content. ~ Chuck Black

Death and his scythe do not come. No sweeping black capes or ethereal escapes. There's no pearly gate, no prisms of colors as his soul slips away. The stillness is cold steel. The silence is empty with no memory to mend it. ~ Laura Kreitzer

Nineteen years since that day. Nineteen whole years! And I'm still looking for you. I will never stop looking for you.

Often you appear when I expect it least. Earlier today I was trapped in some pointless dark thought or other, my body clenched like a metal fist. Then suddenly you were there: a bright autumn leaf cartwheeling over a dull pewter lawn. I uncurled and smelled life, felt dew on my feet, saw shades of green. I tried to grab hold of you, that vivid leaf, cavorting and wriggling and giggling. I tried to take your hand, look straight at you, but like an optical black spot you slid silently sideways, just out of reach.

I will never stop looking for you. ~ Rosie Walsh

FatherMichael has entered the room
Wildflower: Ah don't tell me you're through a divorce yourself Father?
SureOne: Don't be silly Wildflower, have a bit of respect! He's here for the ceremony.
Wildflower: I know that. I was just trying to lighten the atmosphere.
FatherMichael: So have the loving couple arrived yet?
SureOne: No but it's customary for the bride to be late.
FatherMichael: Well is the groom here?
SingleSam has entered the room
Wildflower: Here he is now. Hello there SingleSam. I think this is the first time ever that both the bride and groom will have to change their names.
SingleSam: Hello all.
Buttercup: Where's the bride?
LonelyLady: Probably fixing her makeup.
Wildflower: Oh don't be silly. No one can even see her.
LonelyLady: SingleSam can see her.
SureOne: She's not doing her makeup; she's supposed to keep the groom waiting.
SingleSam: No she's right here on the laptop beside me. She's just having problems with her password logging in.
SureOne: Doomed from the start.
Divorced_1 has entered the room
Wildflower: Wahoo! Here comes the bride, all dressed in . . .
SingleSam: Black.
Wildflower: How charming.
Buttercup: She's right to wear black.
Divorced_1: What's wrong with misery guts today?
LonelyLady: She found a letter from Alex that was written 12 years ago proclaiming his love for her and she doesn't know what to do.
Cecelia Ahern

AGATHA, an old Labradoodle ATHENA, a brown teacup Poodle ATTICUS, an imposing Neapolitan Mastiff, with cascading jowls BELLA, a Great Dane, Athena's closest pack mate BENJY, a resourceful and conniving Beagle BOBBIE, an unfortunate Duck Toller DOUGIE, a Schnauzer, friend to Benjy FRICK, a Labrador Retriever FRACK, a Labrador Retriever, Frick's litter mate LYDIA, a Whippet and Weimaraner cross, tormented and nervous MAJNOUN, a black Poodle, briefly referred to as 'Lord Jim' or simply 'Jim' MAX, a mutt who detests poetry PRINCE, a mutt who composes poetry, also called Russell or Elvis RONALDINHO, a mutt who deplores the condescension of humans ROSIE, ~ Andre Alexis

Struggling transforms her captor into a Chinese finger trap. She's suffocating. Sucking in air without relief. Her lungs expand. Contract. Expand. They fill with lies and broken promises. With despair and lost hope. Each inhale is empty. Invisible hands reach into her body and constrict around her windpipe. She watches her friends collapse like supernovae, their cognizance disappearing into a black hole. A black hole she's quickly cascading into. The dark consumes, bleeds into her vision. She blinks. Catches icy blue eyes peeking out from the shadows. ~ Laura Kreitzer

The closest I'd ever got to seeing a naked woman before was black and white cleavage, and then Rosie tossed her clothes in a corner just like they were getting in the way and spun around in the dim light of Number 16, palms up, luminous, laughing, almost close enough to touch. The thought still knocks the wind out of me. I was too young even to know what I wanted to do about her, I just knew nothing in the World, not the Mona Lisa walking through the Grand Canyon with the Holy Grail in one hand and a winning lotto ticket in the other, was ever going to be that beautiful. ~ Tana French

The majority of Latin actresses in Hollywood were always playing either spitfires or maids. Now here is a woman who comes in and does leads opposite white people and black people and other Spanish people, and she's comfortable in her skin? Gasp! How dare she? ~ Rosie Perez

Ring around the rosie.
A pocket full of posie.
Ashes ashes, we all fall down.
Some people say that this poem is about the Black Death, the fourteenth-century plague that killed 100-million people ...
Sadly, though, most experts think this is nonsense ...
How can I be so sure about this rhyme when all the experts disagree?
Because I ate the kid who made it up. ~ Scott Westerfeld

It's like the specter of segregation has brought the city of Dickens back together again." I decided to give my new career as City Planner in Charge of Restoration and Segregation another six months. If things didn't work out, I could always fall back on being black. ~ Paul Beatty

Black Wind was Asha's longship. He had not seen his sister in ten years, but that much he knew of her. Odd that she would call it that, when Robb Stark had a wolf named Grey Wind. "Stark is grey and Greyjoy's black," he murmured, smiling, "but it seems we're both windy. ~ George R R Martin

Cultural relativists prefer to wrap the issue of sharia in the intellectual equivalent of a black jilbab or blue burqa and intone the old platitudes that we should be nonjudgmental about the religious practices of others. Why? The ancient Aztecs and other peoples practiced human sacrifice, tearing the still-beating hearts out of their sacrificial victims. We teach our children that this happened five hundred years ago, but we don't condone it -- and wouldn't if the practice were suddenly revived in Mexico today. So why do we condone the 'sacrifice' of women or homosexuals or lapsed Muslims for 'crimes' such as apostasy, adultery, blasphemy, marrying outside of their faith, or simply wishing to marry the partner of their choice? Why, aside from the publication of reports by human rights organizations, is there no discernible reaction? In the twenty-first century, I believe that all decent human beings can agree that such barbarous acts should not be tolerated. They can and must be condemned and prosecuted as crimes, not accepted as legitimate punishments. The abuses carried out under sharia are irrefutable. If we are to have any hope for a more peaceful, more stable planet, these punishments must be set aside. ~ Ayaan Hirsi Ali

People go to Vegas, and they don't know what to do; here's what you do. You go to the casino in your hotel. On your arrival, you get $100 in quarters. Take that $100 back to your hotel room and stare at it for a long, long time. Why? Because you're never going to see them again. Then you take those quarters to the bathroom and you flush them, one by one by one. And the nice thing about that is that every so often the toilet will back up, and you'll feel like a WINNER! ~ Lewis Black

You're supposed to put your coin in the slot and let it go. It spins round and round the big yellow funnel for like a minute, making a rhythmic whirring sound that gets tighter and tighter, more intense, more desperate as it spirals closer to the hole. It keeps spinning faster - all that kinetic energy forced down the neck of the funnel until it's blaring like an alarm - then it falls silent as it drops into the black abyss of the funnel. I'm that coin on its way down, screaming in the neck of the funnel, with nothing but my own kinetic energy and centrifugal force keeping me from dropping into darkness. ~ Neal Shusterman

Anything which interferes with my social life is a no-no. ~ Cilla Black

Kieran glanced at her with shimmering eyes. Neither looked quite human: The black eye was too dark, the silver too metallic. And yet the overall effect was haunting, inhumanly beautiful. ~ Cassandra Clare

Orphan Black is the new black. ~ Haley Webb

Madhav literally grew up in all their restaurants. He got used to Aavin milk when he was five months old and filter coffee a year later. When he was five, Padmavathy would pick him up from school at noon and take him to one of their restaurants. He would do his homework as she supervised the eatery. Idly, dosa and vada filled his ears as much as 'Baa-baa black sheep'. 'Three portions of rice and one portion of udat dal for idly' was as much a formula he memorised as (a+b)2. ~ Hariharan Iyer

Eventually, morning came instead of bad guys. That was the thing about mornings. No matter how fucked up your life got, how deep and black your despair, how sure you were that you just couldn't take another second of this shit, morning just kept on coming. Over and over. Morning didn't give a damn about your little drama. ~ Christa Faust

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

I didn't form a group to perform Cilla Black songs. ~ Johnny Marr

I can't stand black guys. I would never touch one. It's gross? ~ Paris Hilton

I'd spent way more years worrying about how to look like a poet
buying black clothes, smearing on scarlet lipstick, languidly draping myself over thrift-store furniture
than I had learning how to assemble words in some discernible order. ~ Mary Karr

No one can define black women but black women. ~ Tamara Winfrey Harris

The time had come, the people should know the son of Hastur, and the whole world bow to the black stars which hang in the sky over Carcosa. ~ Robert W. Chambers