Quotes from Patricia Briggs

I am always careful with the truth. It is a powerful thing and deserves respect. (Tad)

My French friend tells me that someday, if I work at it, I may no longer be flattering myself when I say I can speak a very little French.

Life is not safe. A man might spend his whole time on earth staying safe in a basement, and in the end, he still dies like everyone else.

You have a real gift for getting into trouble, don't you? That was one thing I forgot when you left the pack." "How is any of this my fault?" I asked hotly. He sighed. "I don't know. Does it matter whose fault it is once you're sitting in the middle of the frying pan?" He gave me a despairing look. "And as my father used to point out, you find your way into that frying pan way too often for it to be purely accidental.

When he grew up, he wanted to be like Charles.

Wulfe had been as likely to hoard dried flowers as exquisite jewelry.

The pack was better with Anna in it, in ways far more subtle than he or his da had expected. They had hoped for calm—they had not expected happy.

They're all dead," Ruth wept, her hands in front of her face as if she could not bear what she'd seen. It reminded me oddly of the weeping angels from Doctor Who.

Never starve a werewolf, or he might ask you to join him for lunch.

He waited for Mercy's response. He enjoyed their arguments because very few people argued with him at all.

people needed to be turned into frogs. Or pigs.

Ben, one of the four werewolf guards for the night, ate a big bite, swallowed, and said in a prissier-than-usual version of his British accent, "Mercy, when you say it gnawed on the bones, was it trying to get at the marrow or just cleaning its teeth?

Cabron!" [Mariposa] stomped her foot. "Hijo de puta." Hard to believe that she was two centuries old and not the young girl she looked and acted. Like Peter Pan, she'd never grown up.

I pounded my forehead against Warren's back. "Tell me Ben's not flirting with me." "Hey," said Ben sounding hurt. "I was talking cannibalism, not romance.

Once he started lying to me, it would be harder to get him to trust me with the truth.

As long as I thought what he wanted me to think, he liked it when I thought for myself.

It was discouraging how quickly the beginnings of a sweater turned into a loose pile of yarn.

Maybe I shouldn't have said anything about the finger, but it kept coming up in my thoughts. I've never had a finger thrown at me before. A new-and-improved addition to my creepy-hall-of-fame nightmares.

Charles asked me to stay here, she said, rather than confronting Hosteen with his lie. "You aren't my Alpha-and even if you were, he can't make me do anything, either." She tappef herself in the chest with one of her needles and half sang, "Omega. Me." Dropping into her own voice she said, "As an Omega wolf, I don't have the urge to obey you. At all. Not even the tiniest bit. Don't worry, it makes the Merrick crazy too.

Vampires did the one-name thing before Madonna and Prince.

Let us be heroes as well as monsters.

But his attention was all for my mother. "She's married," I warned him. "And if you call her a rude name, she'll shoot you with her pretty pink gun and I'll spit on your grave." He considered me a moment and started to open his mouth. Adam said, "Ben. Meet Mercy's mother, Margi." Ben paled, closed his mouth, and opened it again. But nothing came out. I didn't think Ben was used to meeting mothers.

A couple of months back, our last paper-delivery person met Joel in his tibicena form and refused to come back, which was fair. I didn't know what the newspaper paid its delivery staff, but it wasn't enough to brave a volcano god's demon dog.

Alpha of the Vltava Pack. Been around since the Middle fucking Ages. Apparently a baker-of all the sodding things for a fearsome Alpha to be. We are glad we don't have to tell people our Alpha is a motherehumping baker.