Open eyes are of little use when the mind behind them is closed.
Thwart: to prevent someone from accomplishing something by means of visiting gratuitous violence upon his smarmy person.
I moved my feet in a vague shuffle, and remembered somewhere that when you walked, you moved them alternately. This improved our progress considerably.
Which man, Fitz?” I asked quietly.
It isn’t complicated. You just open up and let someone in. And whatever comes after that, you face it together.
There was a ticking time bomb inside my head and the one person I trusted to go in and get it out hadn’t shown up or spoken to me for more than a year.
Form up,” I murmured, because it sounded more military and tougher than saying, “You guys go first.
One thing you can count on when visiting the Nevernever: you don’t ever get bored.
He did run some, but I stopped him, my lord. Like, just now. In front of you. Right over there.
Hell’s Bells-Harry Dresden.
Yeah, I should probably eat more vegetables, too,” I said, “but let’s face it. That isn’t going to happen. So what’s up?
Children have their own kind of power. When you’re teaching them, protecting them, you are more than you thought you could be. More understanding, more patient, more capable, more wise.
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.
The Blue Beetle was not a clown car,” I said severely. “It was a machine of justice.
If you’re ever in a spooky situation and have a strong instinct that you are being watched, hunted, or followed, I advise you not to treat those instincts lightly.
Life is not notable for its overabundance of certainty.
I was casting everything I had done, everything I believed, everything I had chosen – everything I was – against the will of an ancient being of darkness, terror, and malice, a fundamental power of the world. And the bonds and the will of Mother Winter could not constrain me.
So you really could die. Your godmother is right, you know. You are mad as a hatter. Nutty as a fruitcake.” “Crazy like a fox,” I said.
The curve of her smile promised things that were probably illegal, and bad for you, and would carry warnings from the Surgeon General, but that you’d still want to do over and over again.
And since when had I become the guy that things happened to ten years ago?