Quotes from Jim Butcher

Plan B," I said. "Okay, right. We need a plan B. If we only had a wheelbarrow, that would be something." Susan let out a puff of laughter, and then I turned to her, my eyes alight. "We have a great big truck," Susan said. "Then why didn't you list that among our assets?" I said, in a bad British accent. "Go!" Susan vanished back down the

But until I have a better idea, it's smarter to keep reminding myself that I don't know, rather than assuming that I do know, and then translating anything I learn to fit my preconceptions

I followed him into the living room. His battered thrift-store entertainment center was empty and toppled in the thieves' haste to leave, as were the makeshift bricks-and-boards shelves that had held his movie and game collection. The rest of the room looked okay, or at least okay by college-bro standards. In some guys' places, you'd be hard-pressed to know if they had been ransacked or not.

Cujo growled at me in the rearview mirror again, and I beamed at him. Smiling always seems to annoy people more than actually insulting them. Or maybe I just have an annoying smile.

wildcat. I found him in a Dumpster one day when he was a kitten and he promptly adopted me. Despite my struggles, Mister had been an understanding soul, and I eventually came to realize that I was a part of his little family, and by his gracious consent was allowed to remain in his apartment. Cats. Go figure.

He had reduced violence in the streets—while sending the number of dollars made by criminals in this town soaring. He had protected the city's flesh while siphoning away its blood, poisoning its soul. It changed nothing, nothing at all.

Bosun!" "Aye, skipper?" "Reinforce the mainmast, hang out all the laundry, and warn the witchmen! Let's make the old bitch fly!

I feel stupid." "Good," Michael said. "It's good for everyone to feel that way sometimes. It helps remind you how much you still have to learn.

you can't go around changing your definition of right and wrong (or smart and stupid) just because doing the wrong thing happens to be really convenient. Sometimes it isn't easy to be sane, smart, and responsible.

They say that you're the real thing, Mister Dresden. A real magus." "They also say I'm nutty as a fruitcake." "I choose which 'they' I listen to very carefully

He was wrong," I said. "That doesn't make him a villain. It just makes him an asshole. It isn't reason enough to kill him.

If you know that much," I said, "if you are that powerful, why did you hire a bodyguard to bring you here?" "My feet don't reach the pedals.

Where's Ivy Past her bedtime, Kincaid said without smiling. I'm her proxy. Oh, I said. She has a bedtime? Kincaid checked his watch, She believes very strongly in an early bedtime for children. Heh, heh, eh-heh. I don't fake amused chuckles well.

The man once wrote: Do not meddle in the affairs of wizards, for they are subtle and quick to anger. Tolkien had that one mostly right. I stepped forward, let the door bang closed, and snarled, "Fuck subtle.

People who ask questions and think about their faith are the last ones to embrace dogma—and the last to abandon their path once they've set out on it.

Everything's never in the open, son," he responded. "There're things we keep hidden from one another. Things we hide from ourselves. Things that are kept hidden from us. And things no one knows. You always learn the damnedest things at the worst possible times. Or that's been my experience.

If I was writing during that window, then I imagine that the story was likely late as well and absolutely needed to be finished, so once again I met with inspiration at the corner of Late and Hurry up.

I set things down and locked up my wards and the heavy steel door I'd had installed after a big, bad demon had huffed and puffed and blown down the original. It wasn't until I had them all firmly secured that I let out a slow breath and started to relax. The living room was lit only by the embers of the fire and a few tiny flames. From the kitchen alcove, I heard the soft thumping sound of Mouse's tail wagging against the icebox

I spent my lifetime fighting the darkness without becoming the darkness. Maybe I had faltered at the very end. Maybe I had finally come up against something that made me cross the line-but even then, I hadn't turned into a degenerate freakazoid of the Kemmler variety. One mistake at the end of my life couldn't erase all the times I had stood unmoved at the edge of the abyss and made snide remarks at its expense.

Thomas, like most men, regarded a throw pillow as something to throw.

I should far rather be drunk than eaten, Miss Lancaster," Ferus said in a serious tone. "As should we all. Very well, that's settled.

Kill you!" she snarled. "Kill you for what you did to him!" "Holy crap!" Thomas yelled. "Ack!" I agreed.

I wept. And the city burned.

Gotta tell you, Murph," I sighed back. "I got a bad feeling about this." "Speak for yourself," Murphy said. "I just gave my last grenade to a Valkyrie and ordered her to blow up a kraken. I'm having a ball.