Kelley Armstrong Quotes - Page 3

Could you please put this--could you all put these--could you get dressed, please?" The woman only bestowed a serene smile on me. "We are as the Goddess requires." "The Goddess requires you to be naked on my lawn?

When Liam stepped forward again, Derek's arm shot around me , a growl vibrating up from his stomach. Liam put his hand out toward me. When Derek tensed he pilled back, then did it again, testing his reaction, laughing when he got one, untill even Ramone started to laugh. "Check this out," Liam said. "I think the pup's got himself a mate. Isn't that the cutest thing?

You'll wrest a burning sword from an angel, but you're afraid of bats?" "I'm not afraid of them. I just don't like them. They're...furry. Flying things shouldn't be furry. It's not right. And if I ever meet the Creator, I'm taking that one up with him." "That I'd like to see. Your one and possible only chance to get the answer to every question in the universe, and you ask, 'Why are bats furry?'" "I will. You just wait.

First you buy me a mocha. Then you let me help you hide a body. Now you take me to a biker clubhouse. Best. Day. Ever.

Sometimes humans hit on a moment of profundity more complete than their dim minds could comprehend, and they took that nugget of truth and dumped it in the refuse for the bards and the poets to find, and mangle into yodeling paeans of love.

And stop doing that,” he said. “Backing away, giving me that look.” Like you’re scaring me? Maybe you are.” He stepped back so fast he wobbled and caught himself, and the look on his face—It vanished in a second, the scowl returning. I’d never hurt you, Chloe. You should know—” He stopped. Paused. Then wheeled and started walking away. “Next time? Handle it yourself. I’m done taking care of you.

He liked women with little butts and big tits? Someone had played with one too many barbie dolls as a kid.

If it gets too bad, go. I’ll understand.” I won’t.

I thought you were all-seeing.” All-knowing, not all-seeing!” he snapped. “I’m a God, not Santa Claus!

A stereotype becomes a stereotype when a significant percentage of the population appears to conform to it.

The show's writers had peppered the piece with words like "savage," "wild," and "animalistic." What bullshit. Show me the animal that kills for the thrill of watching something die. Why does the stereotype of the animalistic killer persist? Because humans like it. It neatly explains things for them, moving humans to the top of the evolutionary ladder and putting killers down among mythological man-beast monsters like werewolves. The truth is, if a werewolf behaved like this psychopath it wouldn't be because he was part animal, but because he was still too human. Only humans kill for sport.

Urban survival rule 22: Never annoy an armed man.

We have Kenjii. We have my cell phone. Since we aren't officially dating, I'm sure you'll agree that's all the protection we need.

Perfect night, wasn't it?" "It could have been." I smiled up at him. "But you were there.

Yes," I said "You were saved by a girl. Horrible, isn't it?" He slid out and looked down at my bare legs. "Not just a girl, but a half-naked one. Now that's hot. If I'm still unconscious, don't wake me, okay?

Speaking of death, LeBlanc boasted he could kill me in the waiting room. I broke his wrist. He wasn't impressed.

As I recall, I was still dressed when I fell asleep." "Just making sure you were comfortable." "And making yourself equally comfortable, I see.

It wasn't until I was in my teens that I started admiring writers as inspirations for my own work, and my earliest influences there were Stephen King, Marion Zimmer Bradley and Richard Adams.

I screwed up. Again. You're shocked, I'm sure.

One second he was in my face, making me feel stupid and useless. The next he was like this: hovering, concerned, worried.

Who cared whether you could change motor oil when you could snap a rottweiler’s neck in 2.8 seconds? Now there was a practical skill.

His gaze travelled down me, then zipped back to my face. "Sorry." "Focus, Rafe." "I am. Just on the wrong thing.

Simon had drawn three pictures. In the top left corner, like a salutation, was a ghost. The middle had a big sketch of Arnold Schwarzenegger as the Terminator. The third in place of a signature, was a lightning bolt surrounded by fog. Beside the drawing, someone had scrawled in inch-high letters 10 A.M. Tori snatched it from me and turned it over. "So where's the message?" "Right there." I pointed from picture to picture. "It says: Chloe, I'll be back, Simon.

He lifted his brows. "If I really thought it was the absolute best thing for our kids, you'd have had a battle on your hands. That was just a debate." "With chair-throwing." "Heated debate. Fights involve chair-breaking. Chair-throwing is just getting your attention.

He wore sweatpants and a T-shirt and had stopped in the middle of the hall, furiously scratching one bare forearm. "Fleas?" I said.