Quotes About Consequences

I may have had good reasons. I may have had the best of intentions. But intentions aren't enough, no matter how good they are. Intentions can lead you to a place where you're able to make a choice. It's the choice that counts.

I lunged, low and quick, and drove about a foot of cold steel into his danglies. Hey, I don't care what kind of fearie or mortal or hideous creature you are. If you've got danglies, and can loose them, that's the kind of sight that makes you reconsider the possible genitalia-related ramifications of your actions real damned quick.

You think your power is what shapes the world you walk in. But that is an illusion. Your choices shape your world. You think your power will protect you from the consequences of those choices. But you are wrong. You create your own rewards. There is a Judge. There is Justice in this world. And one day you will receive what you have earned. Choose carefully.

If I stay, they'll kill me... If I go, at least everything that wants me dead won't be taking it personally.

I can't be under arrest now... I don't have time.

You killed my dog! Get your affairs in order.

Id me didn't have to be concerned with long-term consequences. He was my instinctive, primitive self, driven by my most primal impulses. I wondered, briefly, if 'id' and 'idiot' came from the same root.

Somewhere out there was a village I'd deprived of it's idiot.

The blood on their hands does not make it right to bloody my own. My choices are measured against my own soul. Not against the stains on theirs.

Hey. I don't care what kind of faerie or mortal or hideous creature you are. If you've got danglies and can lose them, that's the kind of sight that make you reconsider the possible genitalia-related ramifications of your actions real damned quick.

Intentions count for far less than the consequences of the actions born from them.

Sometimes I thought it might be nice not to make any choices. If I never had one, I could never screw it up.

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.

Michael titled his head. "But . . . Uriel, if I were to misuse it . . ." "I would Fall," Uriel said quietly. I choked on the air. Holy crap. The last time an archangel Fell, I'm pretty sure there were extended consequences.

Harry Dresden—I take responsibility for more impossible situations in the first twenty-four hours of being dead than most people do all day.

He had traded the lives of people he did not know for those of men he did. That was, he supposed, human nature.

Hat up, go kill her. Problem solved." "Bob," I said. "You can't just go around killing people." "I know. That's why you should do it." "No, no. I can't go around killing people, either." "Why not? You've done it before. And you've got a new gun and everything.

I mean, a lot of teenage guys fail in their first relationships. Not many of them murder the girl involved.

There are things you can't walk away from. Not if you want to live with yourself afterward.

When most people lose control of their anger, someone gets hurt. Maybe someone even gets killed. When it happens to a wizard, insurance companies go broke and there's reconstruction afterward.

A good man, almost by definition, would seriously question any decisions he made that led to such terrible consequences for others. Especially if those others trusted him.

But 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.

Now that I've got this to keep me safe off the island," I said very quietly, "what's to stop me from having Alfred drop you into a cell right this second, and solving my problems myself?" "I am," Mab said. She gave me a very small, very chill smile, and held up her finger. There was a tiny droplet of my blood upon it, scarlet against her pale skin.

I wanted to kick myself. Somewhere out there was a village I'd deprived of its idiot.