A Quote by Jim Butcher

I didn't know this before, but as it turns out, Tyrannosaurs can really haul ass. — © Jim Butcher
I didn't know this before, but as it turns out, Tyrannosaurs can really haul ass.
I, as a storyteller, was asking questions no one in science had apparently asked. What happens in a nest of tyrannosaurs? They're precocial, meaning when they hatch, they're ready to feed and move about. My questions are "Hmm, if there's a nest of tyrannosaurs, and there's three siblings that survive, would they try to eat each other?"
[On being overweight:] If I tried to haul ass, I would have to make two trips.
Curiosity can bring guts out of hiding at times, maybe even get them going. But curiosity usually evaporates. Gust have to go for the long haul. Curiosity's like a fun friend you can't really trust. It turns you on and then it leaves you to make it on your own - with whatever guts you can muster
Every November, during the certain holiday people love so much, people take a dead turkey, open up the dead turkey’s ass, or carve out a really big hole in their ass, take some stuffing and shove it inside their dead empty ass, and use the little dead ass as an oven to bake some bread. Somebody else’s dead empty bacteria-laden ass to make bread? Ass bread?! And people think vegans are weird? Because we eat tofu? And rice, and beans, and lentils?
It turns out that I'm far too schizophrenic musically for people to categorize me. I think people judge me a lot before they ever really know who I am.
You know, before when (the police went) to work, they used to be like, 'I'm gonna kick somebody's ass today and so I hope I can catch somebody in a bad situation or breaking the law, because I'm gonna beat someone's ass in a big way, I think that attitude has changed.
I grew up homeless, you know, lived in and out of U-Haul trucks and, you know, apartment houses, friends.
I must of woke up this morning with a bug up my ass, I think I'll just haul off and belt the next jerk that I pass.
I don't really know that much about love, it turns out.
I checked to see if there’d been a really good book published in the last few decades. Then I started with what Cleopatra would have read, asking myself, “What can we know about her education?” It turns out to be a very great deal, and bizarrely, no one had written about that before.
I checked to see if there'd been a really good book published in the last few decades. Then I started with what Cleopatra would have read, asking myself, 'What can we know about her education?' It turns out to be a very great deal, and bizarrely, no one had written about that before.
Mindful of the fact you live in an agricultural country, I presume you know what an ass is. We read in the New Testament that our blessed Lord rode on an ass in triumph into the city of Jerusalem. Today the Lord rides on another ass: I myself.
Market timing doesn't work. If all the bubbles and all this mispricing really exist, how come so few people see it before it turns out that way?
Early in my publishing career, someone told me I'd need to have five books in print before I could quit my job as a journalist. Turns out it was closer to 10 books. It also turns out that while it's great to see my titles on bookstore shelves, my best customers are schools and libraries.
You can say "ass," but you can't say "asshole." That's why I always cringe when a character in a TV show refers to someone as an "ass." Unless you're British, calling someone an ass really doesn't work. But those are the rules of television. You can be a dirtbag, but not a scumbag.
Before you open the lunch menu or order that cheeseburger or consider eating the cake with the frosting intact, haul out the psychic calculator and start tinkering with the budget.
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