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Billy squinted at me. Why are you letting them go? Because they're real. How do you know? The one I was holding crapped on my hand.

Jim Butcher

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Jim Butcher
Age: 53
Born: 1971
Born: October 26
Actor
Author
Novelist
Science Fiction Writer
Independence
Missouri
Holding
Hand
Hands
Real
Squinted
Billy
Letting

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Jump into an open grave? What kind of idiot are you? Butters replied. I might as well put on a red shirt and volunteer for the away team. There's snow and ice and slippery mud down there. That's like asking for an ironically broken neck.
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I'm so pretty, it's hard for me to think of myself as intelligent.
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I admit, Morgan said with another withering look, it's no donut.
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Sticks and stones may break your bones, but Chinese throwing stars get you a dozen stitches.
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Could a man's heart, his soul, perish and yet leave him walking and talking as if alive?
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Maybe they'd use biological or chemical weapons instead. Maybe they'd crash the world economy. Maybe they'd turn every program on television into one of those reality shows. That's mostly done already, Harry. Oh. Well. I've got to believe that the world is worth saving anyway.
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Just remember that you're on my list, Marcone. Soon as I get done with all the other evils in this town, you won't be the lesser of them anymore. Marcone stared at me with half-lidded eyes and said, Eek.
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Discretion is the better part of not getting exsanguinated.
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Molly, you are a good person. Don't let anyone take that away from you. Not even yourself.
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Murphy had found a spot on the street, which made me wonder if she didn't have some kind of magical talent after all. Only some kind of precognitive ESP could have gotten us a parking space on the street, in the shadow of a building, with both of us in sight of the apartment building's entrance.
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Many things are not as they seem: The worst things in life never are.
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Honey, I liked the Harry Potter movies, too, but that doesn’t mean I ran out and got a Dark Mark tattooed onto my left forearm like you did.
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Ease off the martyr throttle.
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Animals do not do what they have done. Animals kill to eat, to defend themselves or their own, and to protect their territory. Not for the joy of it. Not for the lust of it...Only humans do that, wizard.
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Magic comes from what is inside you. It is a part of you. You can't weave together a spell that you don't beleive in.
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I could buy that she would murder me in a fit of rage, poison me out of flaming jealousy, or bomb my car out of sheer, stubborn pique. But she would never do it and feel nothing.
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All right. Tell me what I'm looking at. From the improvised Rolling Stones T-shirt bag tied to my sash, Bob the Skull said, in his most caustic voice, A giant pair of cartoon lips. I muttered a curse and fumbled with the shirt until one of the skull's glowing orange eye sockets was visible. A big goofy magic nerd! Bob said.
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Marcone's scum... But he's his own scum.
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Nay, but prithee, with sprinkles 'pon it instead, I said solemnly, and frosting of white.
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Over the course of many encounters and many years, I have successfully developed a standard operating procedure for dealing with big, nasty monsters. Run away.
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