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So there I was being strangled by a ranting, half-naked madman in the middle of the woods, with a she-werewolf dangling from a rope snare somewhere nearby.

Jim Butcher

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Jim Butcher
Age: 53
Born: 1971
Born: October 26
Actor
Author
Novelist
Science Fiction Writer
Independence
Missouri
Werewolf
Madmen
Ranting
Rope
Dangling
Woods
Strangled
Naked
Snare
Somewhere
Nearby
Middle
Madman
Half
Snares

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So? Bob said. Hat up, go kill her. Problem solved. Bob, I said. You can't just go around killing people. I know. That's why you should do it. No, no. I can't go around killing people, either.
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Wizards and computers get along about as well as flamethrowers and libraries.
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Because nothing says flattery like a gun to the head.
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When you die, do you want to feel ashamed of what you've done with your life? Feel ashamed of what your life meant?
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You think this is going to work? This peaceful summit thing?” “Sure,” I said. After a second, I added, “Probably.” “Probably?” “Maybe,” I said. “We’re down to maybe now?” I shrugged. “We’ll see.
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Being a wizard gives you more power than most, but it doesn't change your heart. We're all human. We're all of us equally naked before the jaws of pain.
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I love being a wizard. Every day is like Disneyland.
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No one is an unjust villain in his own mind. Even - perhaps even especially those who are the worst of us. Some of the cruelest tyrants in history were motivated by noble ideals, or made choices they would call hard but necessary for the good of their nation. We're all the hero of our own story.
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I don't believe in faeries!
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I still can't believe, Michael said, sotto voce, that you came to the Vampires' Masquerade Ball dressed as a vampire.
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Sullen monosyllabism, a sure sign of sleep deprivation.
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Put some clothes on, you weird, yellow-eyed, table-dancing, werewolf-training, cryptic, stare-me-right-in-the-eyes-and-don't-even-blink wench.
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Better safe than exsanguinated.
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Nay, but prithee, with sprinkles 'pon it instead, I said solemnly, and frosting of white.
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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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Black Court vampires. I just shortened it some. Ebenezar tsked. Blampires. That's the problem with you young people. Shortening all the words.
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Do you want your blood to stay where it is sochar-lar? Tavi lifted both eyebrows at the unfamiliar word, and glanced at Varg. Monkey, Varg supplied, in Aleran. And male-child. He called me monkey boy? Tavi asked.
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I can't believe I'm about to say this, I said. So think real careful about where this is coming from. Have you people ever considered *talking* when you've got a problem?
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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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We're all of us equally naked before the jaws of pain.
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