Quotes from Chuck Wendig

A lady should be respectful, is all he manages through gritted teeth. He pitches the towel in the corner. Miriam snorts. That's me. My fair fuckin' lady.

For the record," Miriam says, "I'm a supremely vulgar human being and even I think bearded taco is a disgusting term. My vagina is a beautiful flower, thank you very much, not a pube-shellacked burrito. Uck.

Here's how we do things in America: We identify a problem, then we promptly ignore it until it's not just biting our ass, but it's already eaten the right cheek and has started on the left.

You grab the core essence of a true problem and swaddle it in the mad glittery ribbons of fantasy — and therein you find glorious new permutations of conflict. Reality expressed in mind-boggling ways. Reach for fantasy. Find the reality.

He was a nice guy, Jimmy, but rich or not he was dumb as a bag of retards, and smoking all that weed didn't help.

This is a terrible plan," he says to Han Solo—Solo, who crouches down so as not to be seen. Han Solo, the jerk. The very handsome, very charismatic jerk. "And I hate you very much.

The best gift you can give somebody is a surprise because they never forget.

All hail the light, the dark, and the grey.

Not it. Her. Give the Falcon some respect, kid.

I smuggle, not snuggle.

War is not a state of being. It is meant to be a temporary chaos between periods of peace.

We laugh so that we don't scream.

I don't know what I'm doing here, either. I suspect that the moment I have it figured out, I'll probably die half a second later.

My name's Mapo," the boy says. "Mesa Jar Jar.

People like the illusion of choice. Gives them comfort in these strange times.

In them and between them flourished the heat of life, the madness of love, and the sudden absolute certainty of the end of all that they knew.

Florida: America's hot, moist land-wang.

Books were usually a way for her to power her own brain down and borrow someone else's for a while.

And the lone Jedi that exists—the son of Anakin Skywalker—possesses an untouchable soul. At least for now.

The tyrant Palpatine is dead. But the fight isn't over. The war goes on even as the Empire's power diminishes. But we are here for you. Know that wherever you are, no matter how far out into the Outer Rim you dwell, the New Republic is coming to help. Already we've captured dozens of Imperial capital ships and Destroyers—

Bones!" Temmin says, throwing his arms around the droid. "I PERFORMED VIOLENCE," the droid warbles. Jas wonders if that's pride she hears in the thing's discordant voice. "ROGER-ROGER.

Vampires are slicker than goose shit on a glass window. Suave. Sultry. I'm neither of those things

It's a fucking Fiero, dude. It's twenty years old. It has 150,000 miles on it, which is practically what it takes to get to the moon. I'm going to bet if I open this thing up, it's going to smell like stale Drakkar Noir and chemical pine scent. There is probably a dead rat in the trunk. Maybe a whole nest of dead rats and rat babies. She finishes her drawing. (Spoiler alert: it's a penis.) You should really be paying me to take this burden of Detroit steel off your hands.

All under the pretense of military application." He pouts. "No pretense about it. Remember, the Internet was a military application. And now look at how it's changed our culture.