Quotes from Jim Butcher

life isn't simple. There is such a thing as black and white. Right and wrong. But when you're in the thick of things, sometimes it's hard for us to tell. You didn't do what you did for your own benefit. You did it so that you could protect others. That doesn't make it right—but it doesn't make you a monster, either. You still have free will. You still get to choose what you will do and what you will be and what you will become.

Maybe I'd been shut away in my lab too long, but Spenser never mentions that the Faerie Queen has a great ass.

It's not my fault all women like motorcycles, Murph. They're basically huge vibrators. With wheels. - Harry Dresden

Birthdays are about families. Whether they're a biological family or one that's come together by choice, it's your family who gathers to celebrate the anniversary of *you*.

This is not how diplomacy is done," Anastasia said as we approached the Château Raith. "You're in America now," I said. "Our idea of diplomacy is showing up with a gun in one hand and a sandwich in the other and asking which you'd prefer.

The noise was deafening, and no one could have heard me anyway as I let out my own battle cry, which I figured was worth a shot. What the hell. "I don't believe in faeries!

Bigots see something they expect and then they stop thinking about what is in front of them," I told him. "It's probably how they got to be bigots in the first place.

How long have you been a Wiccan?" "A what?" "A pagan. A witch." "I'm not a witch," I said, glancing out the door. "I'm a wizard." Sanya frowned. "What is the difference?" "Wizard has a Z.

Crows take you Gaius Sextus. Even when you make a request you leave me no choices. They do seem to have grown a bit sparse, these past few years, he agreed quietly.

The house wasn't large, by the neighborhood's standards, but that was like saying that a bale of hay isn't much to eat, by elephant standards.

The married thing. Sometimes I look at it and feel like someone from a Dickens novel, standing outside in the cold and staring in at Christmas dinner.

They were huge, six feet long not including the tail, and as high as my belly at their shoulders. Their entirely human eyes shone, as did their bared fangs.

I wouldn't burden any decent system of faith by participating in it.

Miles nodded his head, but said nothing more of the Marat. "You've much on your mind.

You're still a good guy, right? You know how confusing the whole good-evil concept is for me." "I'm thinking about changing it to 'them' and 'us,' for simplicity's sake

She could be a pain in the ass, but she was one gutsy chick. Her kids were lucky to have a mother like her. A lot of moms would say that they would die for their children. Charity had placed herself squarely in harm's way to do exactly that.

I couldn't take it anymore. "Hey, people. Chat time is over. The girl's about to pass out on her feet. Thomas is dying. So both of you shut your mouth and help them." Raith whipped his head around to stare daggers at me. His voice was cold enough to merit the use of a Kelvin scale. "I do not respond well to demands." I ground my teeth and said, "Both of you shut your mouth and help them. Please." And they say I can't be diplomatic.

And as I looked at him, I suddenly felt, for the very first time in my life, utterly, entirely alone. That something was gone that would never return, that a little hole had been hollowed out inside of me that wasn't ever going to be filled again.

All it would cost me was my soul. And no, I'm not talking about anything magical or metaphysical. I'm talking about the core of my identity, about what makes Harry Dresden who and what he is. If I lost those things, the things that define me, then what would be left?

I mean, maybe it isn't all about you. Or at least, not only about you." I stared at her blankly for a moment. "But for that to be true," I said, "I would have to not be the center of the universe.

wolf's fur was speckled with drops of blood that had beaded on it like rain. The gravel in the alley shone in the half-light from the distant street lamps. The wolf's muzzle, a little shorter and broader than I had seen on Wild Kingdom, was drawn back, black lips from fangs striped white and red like peppermints. Its eyes were blue, rather than any proper lupine shade, and gleamed with a sort of demented awareness.

I have fought long and hard against horrors even you would respect. I have been beaten, but I have not yielded. I'm not going to start yielding now.

Darwin always thought that it paid to be a quick learner. The war had simply made the penalty for not learning quite a bit steeper.

It's only paranoia if I'm wrong