A Quote by Jeaniene Frost

Since you and Crispin are now finished and I have a few hours to kill, how about that shag?” he asked with heavy irony. “Bite me,” I sighed, gathering up the pages. He winked. “Of course. My second-favorite thing to do in bed.
Would you like me to [kill you] now?" asked Snape, his voice heavy with irony. "Or would you like a few moments to compose an epitaph?
I figured I could read more than five pages tonight since I'd been deprived for the last couple of days. When I finished the fifteenth, I discovered I was three pages from the next chapter. Might as well end with a clean break. After I was done, I sighed and leaned back, feeling decadent and spent. Pure bliss. Books were a lot less messy than orgasms.
"I'm at your house?" Kody asked."You don't have to sound so offended. I do have people clean it, you know?""Sorry." She sighed wearily. "You have no idea how confusing it is to wake up in a strange place with no idea how you got there."Caleb laughed. "Sure I do. Happens to me frequently."She rolled her eyes at his frightening lifestyle. "Yes, but I woke up in this bed alone."
Where are you going?" I asked, feeling guilty for not being able to hang out with him. "To find a faerie to kill me, of course." He winked at us, then pretended to fall straight through when the faerie door opened. Even Arianna laughed as the door closed behind him.
From this day to the ending of the world, But we in it shall be remembered- We few, we happy few, we band of brothers; For he to-day that sheds his blood with me Shall be my brother; be he ne’er so vile, This day shall gentle his condition; And gentlemen in England now-a-bed Shall think themselves accurs’d they were not here, And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks That fought with us upon Saint Crispin’s day.
A few people have tried to make me see that my writing isn't quite their thing by saying to me: 'What about realism?' To which my general response is, 'What about it?' However, I wouldn't be at all surprised if one of my favorite writers, Marilynne Robinson, was to say something similar if asked 'What about the fantastic?'
We think of the Marine Corps as a military outfit, and of course it is, but for me, the U.S. Marine Corps was a four-year crash course in character education. It taught me how to make a bed, how to do laundry, how to wake up early, how to manage my finances. These are things my community didn't teach me.
I cannot forget a conversation that I had with an elderly couple from the tribe. They asked me whether I would kill them after I had finished. When I asked them why they asked that, they replied, Because you white men always do!
I locked the door, for what good it would do me, and went to bed. The Browning Hi-Power was in its second home, a modified holster strapped to the headboard of my bed. The crucifix was cool metal around my neck. I was as safe as I was going to be and almost too tired to care. I took one more thing to bed with me, a stuffed toy penguin named Sigmund. I don't sleep with him often, just every once in a while after someone tries to kill me. Everyone has their weaknesses. Some people smoke. I collect stuffed penguins. If you won't tell, I won't.
The best thing about the bedroom was the bed. I liked to stay in bed for hours, even during the day with covers pulled up to my chin. It was good in there, nothing ever occurred in there, no people, nothing.
I know when a story is finished when there is not a single thing more I can think to do to it. And since I know at the start what the last line will be, I know when I've reached that point as logically as I can that it's finished. As for the rewriting-it's not foolproof, of course, but if you're honest about having thought of every possibility and you still come back to what you have, what more can you do?
That's a heavy word, but picking up a newspaper every day, how can you not despair at what's happening in the world, and how we're represented as human beings? The disappointments and corruption are dismaying at every level. And the biggest source of evil is of course religion... Everyone are tearing each other apart in the name of their personal god. And the irony is, by definition, they're probably worshipping the same god.
They [photographs] teach you about your own unraveling past, or about the immediacy of yesterday. They show you what you look at. If you take a photograph, you've been responsive to something, and you looked hard at it. Hard for a thousandth of a second, hard for ten minutes. But hard, nonetheless. And it's the quality of that bite that teaches you how connected you were to that thing, and where you stood in relation to it, then and now.
One of my favorite courses to teach is when we go to the Air Force. We've done a few at Air Force bases. What's great about that is that it's a one-week course. It's five days and we work with them for about eight hours a day. We're not only teaching them self-defense, but we're also teaching them how to teach it on base to others.
And then it got even worse, I mean, a few people fell by the wayside within hours. Nick Lowe was in it for about 5 hours I think, he was expelled for going to bed.
I have finished To Kill a Mockingbird. It is now my favorite book of all time, but then again, I always think that until I read another book.
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