Quotes from Greg Rucka

Good fiction can both entertain and light up those dark corners where nice people don't want to go.

Knife fights are something that happen between the Sharks and the Jets, that's it. Everywhere else, it's not a fight, it's just someone trying to goddam kill you.

In their armor they were all the same, and that was the point, he understood. But he took pleasure in the moments when he could see their variety and diversity—those moments when he could glimpse the people beneath the armor and see them as more than just faceless, nameless soldiers identified by letters and numbers and nothing more.

So when she wasn't sleeping or just sitting and listening to the storm or tinkering at her workbench, she flew.

Somebody's got to win this war, right?

We have our mission and we are going to complete it. So grab your straws and suck it the fuck up.

She released his hand and sat back. That air of sadness had descended on her once more. His father had carried a similar melancholy after his mother had passed; Poe would see it descend on him like a shadow, settle over his shoulders like a blanket made of warmth and memory and longing and loss. Leia wore something made of the same material, and not for the first time Poe wondered how she had come by it and, perhaps more importantly, who had given it to her.

The FN P-35 was known more commonly as the Browning Hi-Power, a popular enough firearm to those who used it, and in and of itself, nothing more needed to be noted. Except the fact that the Browning was the sidearm of choice for the Special Air Service, and while the gun itself was produced by Fabrique Nationale, a Belgian concern, and named after an American gunmaker--John M. Browning--there were many who thought of the weapon as Very British Indeed.

In that moment he understood it had never been a game. He understood that he was never going to be one of them.

Os ataco con espinas y respondéis con plomo. ¿No es ése el centro del problema?

The need to do what's right, and maybe find a little adventure along the way." Poe shifted in his seat. "You remind me of my brother," Leia said softly. "Fly like him, too, apparently." Poe looked at her, surprised and flattered at once.

It was, strangely, like coming home, as if this was the place Poe had meant to be all along.

Everyone uses everyone, Tee. Way of the world, isn't it?

Chace went to the bar to order the first round, two lagers. The barman was old, and old-fashioned, and when he served her one pine, presumably for Wallace, and a half, presumably for her, she sent the half back. "No, another pint, if you please." The barman's eyes turned critical. "Not terribly ladylike." "I'm a terrible lady.

Where you see darkness, I see stars . - Laech Min-Glsain, from Poems, Prayers and Meditations on the Force, edited by Kozem Pel, Disciple of the Whills

You get them to the main gate, don't stop until you're outside," Bell tells her, then turns, directing his words at the others. "You understand? All of you, follow Lilac. Follow Lilac. Don't stop. Run." "Lily runs," the girl says softly. "Lilac dances." "Not today," Lilac says. "Today, we run so fast that Lily won't believe it when we tell her. Right?" The girl nods, wide-eyed.

Deadshot you're not.

Have you heard of the Resistance, Poe?" "Rumors, mostly." "Such as?" "Such as there's a splinter of the Republic military that…that feels the Republic isn't taking certain threats as seriously as they maybe ought to be taking them. Specifically the threat posed by the First Order.

Leia was looking up at Poe, smiling ever so slightly. Flyboys. You're all the same. Some of us are flygirls, Poe said.

She listened intently, her chin in her hand, her elbow on her knee. Poe couldn't remember ever having felt so heard by anyone in all his life.

One did not need to believe in the Force to know right from wrong. Many who held no faith in the Force acted righteously, and he had known more than one sentient who had acted selfishly, even cruelly, and used belief to justify doing so.

One did not need to believe in the Force to know right from wrong.

You cannot lose what is inside you," Chirrut said. "You can only misplace it. The task, then, is to find it again.

Return London. Safest route.