Quotes from Jim Butcher

The Legions have a long tradition, boys. You march hard and fast and show up in places where no one expects you—and then you go to work." He grinned. "And you do it all carrying a hundred pounds of gear made by whoever did it for the least coin—but every one of those slives gets paid better than you! It's tradition!

What should I do?" Uriel asked. "Sit," I said. "Stay inside. Don't put pennies in the outlets or play with matches or run with scissors.

Living was a dangerous past-time, and often quite painful—but there was also such joy in living, such beauty, things that one would otherwise never see, never experience, never know. The risk of pain and loss was a part of living. It made everything else mean more; beauty was more pure, more bright, pleasure more full and complete, laughter deeper, more satisfying—and contentment more perfect, more peaceful.

Race me back. Beat me there, and I'll tell you." I blinked. "What kind of kindergarten crap is that?" His grey eyes flashed with anger. "You want to know what it's like? Beat me down the beach." "Of all the ridiculous, immature nonsense," I said. Then I hooked a foot behind Thomas's calf, shoved him down to the sand, and took off down the beach at a dead sprint.

her look dared me to make some kind of chivalrous commentary. I didn't, and she didn't break my nose, by way of fair exchange.

Back to my apartment? The FBI is there just waiting to slap handcuffs on me. Well then I guess you shouldn't have decided to become a terrorist, Harry! Hey, I never-- Bob raised his voice and shouted toward the centipedes, I'm not with him!

Love you. That should have been simple enough to say. But the words stuck hard in my throat. I'd never said them to anyone I didn't lose

Truth does not become untruth simply because its existence upsets the scion of a High House.

I stared at MacFinn for a long moment. I believed that he was telling me the truth. That he didn't have much control, if any, over his actions when he transformed. Though it occurred to me that if he wanted someone dead, he could probably point his monster-self in the right direction before he lost control. Note to self: Do not cut MacFinn off in traffic.

Wow. That's sort of pretty. In a Jaws kind of way.

But you can't ignore things that are real just because they're uncomfortable.

He did run some, but I stopped him, my lord. Like, just now. In front of you. Right over there.

Significance is cumulative—but not always obvious.

Those interest me. I will climb them. All the way up there? Bridget asked. She felt slightly dizzy just thinking of the view from the mast tops. It seems unnecessary. Rowl turned his head and gave her a level look. Then he said, I sometimes forget that you are just a human. He flicked his ears dismissively and looked back up at the masts. A cat would understand.

Shame, child, is for those who fail to live up to the ideal of what they believe they should be.

We're all the hero of our own story.

Mister didn't come with me on cases, being above such trivial matters, but he found me pleasant company when I was at home and not moving around too much, except when he didn't, in which case he went rambling

Polka will never die!" Butters screamed. "I can't believe I'm hearing this," Thomas muttered.

A wonderful place, the mind, but if it has any kind of disappointing failure, it's that it always attempts to put new things into the context of things which are already familiar to it.

Rowl reminded himself that cats were eternally patient, and that he would not simply explode if he did not fling himself from Littlemouse's arms and go exploring. Which was not to say that he could not do so if he wished, because cats were also their own masters. He decided that his patience was practically legendary- which was fortunate...

He nodded. "Someone really would get suspicious if they saw you roaming around. If I need you I'll give you a signal." "What signal?" "I'll imitate the scream of a terrified little girl," he said with a waggle of his eyebrows. He headed out the door. "Back in a minute.

Fire, she whispered. Wind. I see dark things and a dark war. I see my death coming for me, out of the spirit world. And I see you at the middle of it all. You're the beginning, the end of it. You're the one who can make the path go different ways. That's your vision? Iowa has less corn.

Why do you think I do it?" He shrugged. "All I can figure is that either you're nursing a deep and sadistic self-hatred or else you're insane.

The reward for work well-done is more work.