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Oh, I forgot to mention it: My brother is the kind of man whom women stalk. In cooperative packs.

Jim Butcher

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Jim Butcher
Age: 53
Born: 1971
Born: October 26
Actor
Author
Novelist
Science Fiction Writer
Independence
Missouri
Women
Stalk
Kind
Cooperative
Men
Cooperatives
Stalking
Forgot
Packs
Mention
Brother

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Better safe than exsanguinated.
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I don't know about your true form, but the weight of your ego sure is pushing the crust of the earth toward the breaking point.
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Discretion is the better part of not getting exsanguinated.
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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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Body or mind, heart or soul, we're all human, and we're supposed to feel pain. You cut yourself off from it at your own risk.
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Keep in mind that this appears in the same book of the Bible that approves the death sentence for a child who curses his parents, owners of oxen who injure someone through the owner's negligence, anybody who works or kindles a fire on Sunday, and anyone who has sex with an animal.
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Kincaid, evidently exhausted himself, drew a gun, took the safety off, placed it on his chest, and went to sleep too. It's cute, I whispered to Murphy. He has a teddy Glock.
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You killed my dog! Get your affairs in order.
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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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When I finally got tired of arguing with her and decided to write a novel as if I was some kind of formulaic, genre writing drone, just to prove to her how awful it would be, I wrote the first book of the Dresden Files.
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Not gonna bind ya or break ya, old spirit. Just gonna kick your ass up between your ears.
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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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You know how confusing the whole good-evil concept is for me.
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Jobs are a part of life. Maybe you've heard of the concept. It's called work? See, what happens is that you suffer through doing annoying and humiliating things until you get paid not enough money. Like those Japanese game shows, only without all the glory.
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The fire of my tribulations had not simply been pain to be endured. It had been an agent of transformation. After all that I'd been through, I'd changed. Not for the worse, I was pretty sure--at least not yet. But only a moron or a freaking lunatic could have faced the things I had and remained unfazed by them.
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Many women have earned titles, Your Grace. It doesn't seem to have been a factor in whether or not they actually received them.
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For me chivalry isn't dead it's an involuntary reflex.
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Hello Angel,'Michael rumbled, and leaned over to give the woman a kiss on the cheek. She accepted it with all the loving tolerance of a Komodo dragon. 'Don't you hello angel me. Do you know what I had to go through to find a baby-sitter, get all the way out here, get the money together and then get the sword back for you?
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Living was a dangerous past-time, and often quite painful—but there was also such joy in living, such beauty, things that one would otherwise never see, never experience, never know. The risk of pain and loss was a part of living.
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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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