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Now I'm a God, but tomorrow, when you have to stop me from playing with dead things again, you'll be right back to calling me an idiot, won't you?

Mira Grant

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Mira Grant
Calling
Tomorrow
Dead
Playing
Stop
Back
Right
Things
Idiot

More quotes by Mira Grant

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You'd challenge me and lose. You know it, I know it, but you'd still do it. Sometimes your sense of honor confuses the hell out of me.
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My dear October, we are bound by an enchanted rose made from the hair of a Duchess, and my blood is covering your hand. You can learn anything you wish to know about me merely by licking you fingers. Tybalt laughed a little. Yes, you may ask me a question.
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He's going to be okay, said Quentin. He has to. He's Tybalt. You'd be all weird and irritating if he wasn't around. Weird and irritating? I raised an eyebrow. What gives you that idea? Quentin shrugged. That's already how you get when he isn't around.
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That's the beauty of the future. We get to change it.
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I guess in the end, it doesn’t matter what we wanted. What matters is what we chose to do with the things we had.
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Sometimes in the news, luck is just a matter of capitalizing on someone else's pain.
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Protecting the human race should really come with a per diem, I swear.
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Life as the chosen religious figure for a colony of cryptid mice can be a lot of things, but it's definitely never boring.
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You are truly endearing when you sleep. I attribute this to the exotic nature of seeing you in a state of silence. —Tybalt
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Well, that’s not something you see every day. Go tell your father that Grandma needs the grenades.
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We live in a world where joy is possible, love is possible, happiness is possible where all things are possible, if we're willing to take the time, take a chance, take a breath and step off the edge of everything that is for the sake of everything that might be.
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You really can't go home again. Sometimes, that's a good thing. Sometimes, when you try, you find out that home isn't really there anymore... but that it wasn't only in your head before. Home actually existed. Home wasn't just a dream. Sometimes, that's the best thing of all.
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We are a nation equally afraid of gathering together and being alone.
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We are in the middle of what looks increasingly like the zombie apocalypse. Moaning people don't need help. Moaning people are intending to eat us.
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Shaun get your sister her glasses. She looks naked without them. It's creeping me out.
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Remember what I said about the mosquitoes? Which part asked Maggie. The scary part, the really scary part, the legitimately terrifying part, or the part that makes suicide sound like an awesome way to spend the evening?
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That’s where the dreams end: with the realization that it doesn’t matter where I am, whether I think I’m a woman or a fish or something in-between. I’ve never really left the pond. I still can’t breathe.
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He didn't have much strength to offer, but what he did have was hers without question.
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When you're late in a fairy tale, people wind up dead. And not true-love's-kiss, glass-coffin-nap-time dead. Really dead, the kind of dead you don't recover from.
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Any good Irwin can make going to the corner store for a candy bar and a Coke lood death defying and suicidal.
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