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Paranoid? Probably. But just because you're paranoid doesn't mean there isn't an invisible demon about to eat your face.

Jim Butcher

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Jim Butcher
Age: 53
Born: 1971
Born: October 26
Actor
Author
Novelist
Science Fiction Writer
Independence
Missouri
Mean
Paranoia
Paranoid
Demon
Invisible
Probably
Face
Faces
Doesn
Dresden

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There are things you can't walk away from. Not if you want to live with yourself afterward.
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Now I feel like James Bond. Suave and intelligent, breaking all the codes while looking fabulous.
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There is, I think, humor here which does not translate well from English into sanity.
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I like dogs. They give Mister something to snack on.
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It's not my fault all women like motorcycles, Murph. They're basically huge vibrators. With wheels.
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There’s nothing that makes you more insane than family. Or more happy. Or more exasperated. Or more . . . secure.
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When you do something stupid and die, it's pathetic, I said. When you do something stupid and survive it, then you get to call it impressive or heroic.
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There are old swordsmen and bold swordsmen. But few old, bold swordsmen.
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Everyone stopped to blink at that for a second. I mean, come on. Impaled by a guided frozen turkey missile. Even by the standards of the quasi-immortal creatures of the night, that ain't something you see twice. For my next trick, I panted into the startled silence, anvils.
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Laughter, like love, has power to survive the worst things life has to offer. And to do it with style.
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Life is full of toil, sacrifice, and pain, and from the time we stop growing, we know that we've begun dying. We watch helplessly as year by year, our bodies age and fail, while our survival instincts compel us to keep on going-which means living with the terrifying knowledge that ultimately death is inescapable.
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Molly blinked, then looked at Thomas and said, Wait a minute.... We're his flunkies. You, may be, Thomas said, sneering. I'm his thug. I'm way higher than a flunky. You are high if you think I'm taking any orders from you, Molly said tartly.
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Santa is a much bigger and more powerful faery than Toot, and I don't know his true name anyway. You'd never see me trying to nab Saint Nick in a magic circle even if I did. I don't think anyone has stones that big.
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Marcone's scum... But he's his own scum.
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My head was throbbing, and my hands were shaking, but I went down the ladder to my workroom - and started figuring out how to rip someone's heart out of his chest from fifty miles away. Who says I never do anything fun on a Friday night?
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There is no spoon. I am completely spoonless over here.
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No story that juicy was going to stay secret for long.
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It was one of those moments that would have had dramatic music if my life were a movie, but instead I got a radio jingle for some kind of submarine sandwich place blaring over the store's ambient stereo. The movie of my life must be really low-budget.
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There was a sound like a human yawn, and then the skull turned slightly toward me and asked, What's up, boss? Evil's afoot. Well, sure, Bob said, because it refuses to learn the metric system. Otherwise it'd be up to a meter by now.
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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.
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