The Red Scrolls Quotes

Do you want to wear a beret after all?" Magnus asked. "Say the word. I happen to have several berets concealed on my person. In a variety of colors. I'm a beret cornucopia. ~ Cassandra Clare

Behold, the Great Poison!" Shinyun shouted. "Our founder. The prophet who brought us together and then led us astray." "It's just an honor to be nominated," Magnus gasped. ~ Cassandra Clare

The compass of Magnus's soul spun freely within him, and he'd long been used to that. ~ Cassandra Clare

Seek the children of demons. Love them as you love your lord. Do not let the children be alone. ~ Cassandra Clare

Evil can be excused, sometimes. Squalor, though, never," Magnus murmured. ~ Cassandra Clare

You seem lost in thought," Magnus remarked. "Are you considering how glamorous and romantic your boyfriend is?" "I'm considering," said Alec, "how to protect you if we crash the balloon into a chimney. ~ Cassandra Clare

When in Rome, Alexander," said Magnus, "one drives a Maserati."
They had to get to Rome as fast as possible, and they couldn't use a Portal, so Magnus said he was selecting the next best option. Shinyun was reading the Red Scrolls of Magic and ignoring them both, which was fine with Alec.
"An excellent choice," said the attendant at teh luxury car rental lot. "Gotta love a classic 3500 GT Spyder."
Alec leaned into Magnus. "The car is also a spider?"
Magnus shrugged, flashing Alec an irresistibly bright smile. "No idea. I just picked it because it was Italian and red. ~ Cassandra Clare

Actually, he would much rather have been abandoned in hostile territory than left to stand around at a party. ~ Cassandra Clare

Only the Great Poison, he who is handsome and wise and charming and handsome, can lead the faithful to Edom. So cater to the Great Poison with food and drink and baths and the occasional massage.
"They wrote 'handsome' twice," murmured Alec.
"Why is it called the Red Scrolls," said Shiyun, "when it is a book? And not a scroll?"
"It's definitely not plural scrolls," said Alec.
"I'm sure whoever this handsome, handsome cult founder is," said Magnus, his chest constricting, "he had his reasons."
Shinyun read on. "The prince wishes only the best for his children. Thus, to honor his name, there must be a hearth crowded with only the finest of liquors and cigars and bonbons. Tithes of treasure and gifts showered upon the Great Poison symbolize the love between the faithful, so keep the spirits flowing and the gold growing, and always remember the sacred roles.
"Life is a stage, so exit in style.
"Only the faithful who make a truly great drink shall be favored.
"Offend not the Great Poison with cruel deeds or poor fashion.
"Seek the children of demons. Love them as you love your lord. Do not let the children be alone.
"In times of trouble, remember: all roads lead to Rome."
Alec looked at Magnus, and Magnus could not entirely understand Alec's small smile. "I think you wrote this. ~ Cassandra Clare

It does not become you, my lord, to lie. Not to me." Now two spots of color, like red bites, stained his lover's cheeks. "Because I am a lord? Or because you are so fond of truth?" "Both," said Basil calmly. "And more besides. You, with the blood of kings, and I with - what I have. Now, come here." He held out his hand as if coaxing an animal from the woods. "Come here and tell me about your latest conquest. ~ Ellen Kushner

Blue to get ready
Green to go
Yellow to guide you through the snow
Orange to warn you that over you'll go
Then red will be the final glow
Now seek the black, there's no going back. ~ Angie Sage

At evening the autumnal forests resound
With deadly weapons, the golden plains
And blue lakes, above them the sun
Rolls more darkly by; night enfolds
The dying warriors, the wild lament
Of their broken mouths.
But in the grassy vale the spilled blood,
Red clouds in which an angry god lives,
Gathers softly, lunar coldness;
All roads lead to black decay.
Beneath the golden boughs of night and stars
The sister's shadow reels through the silent grove
To greet the ghosts of heroes, their bleeding heads;
And the dark flutes of autumn sound softly in the reeds.
O prouder sorrow! you brazen altars
Today an immense anguish feeds the mind's hot flame,
The unborn descendants. ~ Georg Trakl

I saw the Count lying within the box upon the earth, some of which the rude falling from the cart had scattered over him. He was deathly pale, just like a waxen image, and the red eyes glared with the horrible vindictive look which I knew so well. ~ Bram Stoker

If asked in a court of law what happened and what was said, I could only attest to the words "heading," "stagnating" and "peaceable." I'd never thought of myself as peaceable - or its opposite - until then. I would also swear to the truth of the biscuit tin; it was burgundy red, with the Queen's smiling profile on it. ~ Julian Barnes

Poetry began in the matriarchal age, and derives its magic from the moon, not from the sun. No poet can hope to understand the nature of poetry unless he has had a vision of the Naked King crucified to the lopped oak, and watched the dancers, red-eyed from the acrid smoke of the sacrificial fires, stamping out the measure of the dance, their bodies bent uncouthly forward, with a monotonous chant of "Kill! kill! kill!" and "Blood! blood! blood! ~ Robert Graves

Those visits to the beautician allowed me to reproduce on my body those red dots of Luc's that I knew by heart. I think that on the day when I have all those red dots tattooed, if I were to join them, I would be drawing the map if his destiny on my body. And maybe on that day he will show up at my door, take me by the hand as he always did instinctively, and stop me from saying "Disaster" as he kisses me. ~ Kim Thuy

Vincent Van Gogh, who said to the hat salesman, I like it, but it keeps sliding over my ear. Never got a dinner! ~ Red Buttons

Mrs. Breedlove considered herself an upright and Christian woman, burdened with a no-count man, whom God wanted her to punish. (Cholly was beyond redemption, of course, and redemption was hardly the point - Mrs. Breedlove was not interested in Christ the Redeemer, but rather Christ the Judge.) Often she could be heard discoursing with Jesus about Cholly, pleading with Him to help her "strike the bastard down from his pea-knuckle of pride." And once when a drunken gesture catapulted Cholly into the red-hot stove, she screamed, "Get him, Jesus! Get him!" If Cholly had stopped drinking, she would have never forgiven Jesus. ~ Toni Morrison

From The Red Sox Reader:
"The Yankees may have always had the better players, but the Red Sox always had the better writers. ~ Dan Riley

It was a lovely morning, hinting at a brutally hot day. Cole squinted into the milky haze that filled his canyon, enjoyed the coffee, and noticed a red-tailed hawk circling overhead, searching for field mice and snakes. Cole said, "What do you think? Is today his day or not?" A black cat sat nearby on the deck, staring down through the rail into the canyon. The cat didn't answer, which is what you get when you talk to cats. Cole said, "You're just jealous you can't fly. ~ Robert Crais

He shoved up his sleeves, displaying several thin leather bracelets and the red-and-black tip of a dragon tail just above his right elbow. I've never actually seen the head. It's on Daniel's back, Frankie told us once, between his shoulder blades. "So,my children, what is up?"
"We're trying to figure out how to get a soul-sucking, male lower life-form out of Ella's head," Frankie explained.
"Kill him," Daniel said casually. "Unless there's a symbiotic thing going on and Ella would have to die, too. That would be a shame."
Here's the thing about Daniel. He has always scared me a little. I don't bother going through the scar-hiding motions; I'm convined he can see right through clothing. Not that he leers. He's not a leerer. He has two facial expressions: cold and amused. He also has a second tattoo, on the inside of his left wrist, that looks exactly like how I would expect a gang mark to look. Frankie has never said a word about that tat. Or much about his brother's friends.Who have names like Ax and spend time in police custody. ~ Melissa Jensen

Amelia was instantly distracted when she heard one of her favorite songs: What a Wonderful World made famous by Louis Armstrong. The woman singing did the song justice as she sang:
I see trees of gree, red roses, too.
I see them bloom, for me and you.
And I think to myself.
What a wonderful world!
Before she could blink an eye, Rick pulled her into his arms in a waltz position.
He gave her a wink and said flirtatiously, "May I have this dance, my love?"
As they danced to the rhythm of the music, Amelia said, "Don't ever stop flirting with me, no matter how old we get."
"Never! ~ Linda Weaver Clarke

Before I was drafted by the Red Sox, I really didn't know that much about them, but in talking to people, they said they weren't known for stealing a lot of bases. It's nice coming to an organization that doesn't necessarily use the run game and still have them give me the green light to steal and use my speed. ~ Jacoby Ellsbury

Under the summer roses When the flagrant crimson Lurks in the dusk Of the wild red leaves, Love, with little hands, Comes and touches you With a thousand memories, And asks you Beautiful, unanswerable questions. ~ Carl Sandburg

Well, Vin says that there's something behind all this, right? Some evil force of doom or whatever? Well, if I were said force of doom, then I certainly wouldn't have used my powers to turn the land black. It just lacks flair. Red. Now, that would be an interesting color. Think of the possibilities
if the ash were red, the rivers would run like blood. Black is so monotonous that you can forget about it, but red
you'd always be thinking, 'Why, look at that. That hill is red. That evil force of doom trying to destroy me certainly has style. ~ Brandon Sanderson

People have been trying to understand dogs ever since the beginning of time. One never knows what they'll do. You can read every day where a dog saved the life of a drowning child, or lay down his life for his master. Some people call this loyalty. I don't. I may be wrong, but I call it love - the deepest kind of love. . . . It's a shame that people all over the world can't have that kind of love in their hearts. . . . There would be no wars, slaughter, or murder; no greed or selfishness. It would be the kind of world that God wants us to have - a wonderful world. - Wilson Rawls, Where the Red Fern Grows ~ Rebecca Frankel

So childish, Alex. You've ruined her dress." The vibrant red silk floated around me as I treaded water. "I know. Bad me. ~ Jennifer L. Armentrout

[Red Dirt Marijuana] contains most of the great short stories in English that are not by Mr. Hemingway or Mr. O'Hara. ~ Robert Anton Wilson

The Mayor of Hong Kong, who said Can't work today. Have American flu. Never got a dinner! ~ Red Buttons

Everything can happen in the playoffs. ~ Red Auerbach

Living isn't always red bows and birthday balloons. ~ Carew Papritz

Red lips are not so red as the stained stones kissed by the English dead. ~ Wilfred Owen

Mars knew that love wasn't all red-paper valentines and candy hearts. Love wasn't always joy. Love could be hot-blooded pain down to the bone. Sometimes love was despair. And sometimes love was wrong. ~ Randy Russell

I looked out the hall window across from me as I stood leaning against the wall, and saw the bars on the outside of the windows. The rain trickled down the reinforced misted milk-glass in a constant deluge of melancholy rivulets. It was getting cold - the shadows, the rising turbulent winds, the drifting red and orange leaves were returning once more. I tuned out the sounds of the doctors voices. Soon, I couldn't make out the words they were saying as definite signals meant to convey something. Their words became a dim humming, a song drifting along the periphery of my awareness. And it was then, I knew I would be able to leave. I would go back to my room and take out the violet silk dress, the monstrous talisman I had created, and I would look at it. I might give it away after all. I need to let her go for all the ghosts she carried within her every measured stitch. ~ ~Theresa Griffin Kennedy~

seven tips for gaining the response rate you want with direct mail. 1. The headline of your brochure should ask for the order. 2. The copy should always tell the person what to do next. 3. Blue is a dandy second color, but red with black is generally the best-pulling direct-mail combination. 4. Red can be overused; use it primarily for highlights. 5. Experts say that the four most important elements in direct mail are the list, the offer, the copy, and the graphics. Guerrillas pay close attention to each. 6. The fastest-growing segment of the direct-mail industry is nontraditional mailers - those who haven't used direct mail in the past. 7. Direct-mail success comes with the cumulative effect of repeat mailings. Make them repetitive yet different from one another. ~ Jay Conrad Levinson

Three years in London had not changed Richard, although it had changed the way he perceived the city. Richard had originally imagined London as a gray city, even a black city, from pictures he had seen, and he was surprised to find it filled with color. It was a city of red brick and white stone, red buses and large black taxis, bright red mailboxes and green grassy parks and cemeteries.

It was a city in which the very old and the awkwardly new jostled each other, not uncomfortably, but without respect; a city of shops and offices and restaurants and homes, of parks and churches, of ignored monuments and remarkably unpalatial palaces; a city of hundreds of districts with strange names - Crouch End, Chalk Farm, Earl's Court, Marble Arch - and oddly distinct identities; a noisy, dirty, cheerful, troubled city, which fed on tourists, needed them as it despised them, in which the average speed of transportation through the city had not increased in three hundred years, following five hundred years of fitful road-widening and unskillful compromises between the needs of traffic, whether horse-drawn, or, more recently, motorized, and the need of pedestrians; a city inhabited by and teeming with people of every color and manner and kind. ~ Neil Gaiman

Let's live suddenly without thinking.
Let's live like the light that kills.
And let's as silence,
because Whirl's after all:
(after me) love, and after you.
I occasionally feel vague how
vague I don't know tenuous Now -
spears and The Then - arrows making do
our mouths, something red, something tall. ~ E. E. Cummings

Melanin is the black pigment which permits skins to appear other than white (black, brown, red and yellow). Melanin pigment coloration is the norm for the hue-man family. If there are non-white readers who disagree with this presentation of white rejection of the white-skinned self, may I refer you to the literature on the currently developing sun-tanning parlors. ~ Frances Cress Welsing

Soon, all that was permitted to be taught was the chairman's Little Red Book. Chairman Mao's quotes were treated like the words of God. ~ Liao Yiwu

How had she ended up like this, imprisoned in the role of harridan? Once upon a time, her brash manner had been a mere posture - a convenient and amusing way for an insecure teenage bride, newly arrived in America, to disguise her crippling shyness. People had actually enjoyed her vituperation back then, encouraged it and celebrated it. She had carved out a minor distinction for herself as a 'character': the cute little English girl with the chutzpah and the longshoreman's mouth. 'Get Audrey in here,' they used to cry whenever someone was being an ass. 'Audrey'll take him down a peg or two.'

But somewhere along the way, when she hadn't been paying attention, her temper had ceased to be a beguiling party at that could be switched on and off at will. It had begun to express authentic resentments: boredom with motherhood, fury at her husband's philandering, despair at the pettiness of her domestic fate. She hadn't noticed the change at first. Like an old lady who persists in wearing the Jungle Red lipstick of her glory days, she had gone on for a long time, fondly believing that the stratagems of her youth were just as appealing as they had ever been. By the time she woke up and discovered that people had taken to making faces at her behind her back - that she was no longer a sexy young woman with a charmingly short fuse but a middle-aged termagant - it was too late. Her anger had become a part of her. It was a knotted thicket in her gut, too dense to be cut down and ~ Zoe Heller

Go hide," Jonas said softly. "Stay safe. You're free now. When this is over, no matter what happens, find someone loyal to Cato and say you need Nathanial's tracker off of you. I have plenty of money and everything you could possibly need. Find someone from-" Emmy slapped him across the face. Red blotches appeared on her cheeks. "Don't be daft. I'm going to kill that sonuvabitch Nathanial and earn my place among your people. Lead the way to this Sasha." "You don't know how to-" Another slap cut Jonas off. "Fair enough."

-Jonas & Emmy ~ K.F. Breene

Andrews threw the convertible in gear, and I trailed a hand over the bright red finish. Probably fresh off the lot - unlike my little hatchback, which had been factory assembled in the same decade witches came out of the broom closet. ~ Kalayna Price

Jimi on the box, thirty stories up, everything immediate, yet distanced. Jimi's chords locked in aerial dogfights, gliding, riding, sliding, hiding, belligerent bursts, hallucinogenic, a head-warping face-wiping mind melt, chords live dive bombers screaming in for the kill, scintillating, serrated chords shot through with arc-light shrieks of staccato mayhem, as immediate and horrific as the firefight racketing away this very second below our red and puffy eyes; chords that hang in the air like the retinal reflection of an eerie afterburn, the stars displaced and the smell of a world that burned. Overhead, night birds flying, Huey, Apache, Chinook, whooshing with murderous potential. And over everything - every apocalyptic bang, boom, and rattle - Jimi, bleating like Braxton and bonding with the bombast. ~ Roger Steffens

I took the red dress down and put it against myself. 'Does it make me look intemperate and unchaste?' I said. ~ Jean Rhys

Have you read my emails before?" I ask.
I try to keep my voice casual but I can hear the anxiety in it. The What the f*ck in it.

When you're a stupid girl in love, it's almost impossible to see the red flags. It's so easy to pretend they're not there, to pretend that everything is perfect. ~ Heather Demetrios

A blond vampire in a garnet-red frock. She was lovely, and pale as new snow: Cordelia thought of the mundane women who paid to have their faces enameled white to preserve their youth and keep their fashionable pallor.
They ought to just become vampires, she thought. It would be less expensive. ~ Cassandra Clare

When I was fourteen, I thought a lot about killing myself - it's a hobby today, but at age fourteen it was a vocation. On a September morning, just after school started, I'd gotten Diane's .44 Magnum and held it, babylike, in my lap for hours. What an indulgence it would be, to just blow off my head, all my mean spirits disappearing with a gun blast, like blowing a seedy dandelion apart. But I thought about Diane, and her coming home to my small torso and a red wall, and I couldn't do it. It's probably why I was so hateful to her, she kept me from what I wanted the most. ~ Gillian Flynn

Once, I sang colors to a blind man. Seven hours I played, but at the end he said he saw them, green and red and gold. ~ Patrick Rothfuss

So rode the squadrons out against the grey steel foe, adding another dash of red to the sunset glow. ~ Gunter Grass