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Some people are like Slinkies.They aren't really good for anything, but they still bring a smile to my face when I push them down a flight of stairs.
Patricia Briggs
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Patricia Briggs
Age: 59
Born: 1965
Born: February 28
Novelist
Writer
Butte
Montana
Faces
Simile
Stills
Stairs
Still
Push
Anything
Flight
Really
Smile
Good
Aren
Like
Bring
People
Face
Slinkies
More quotes by Patricia Briggs
Zealots are like one track-pony. Don't get in their way without expecting to get hurt.
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The cool thing about writing is that there is really never a typical day. Sometimes I get a rhythm going and head off to work every morning and come home at night. Sometimes I'll write for two days straight and then be utterly blank for the next two.
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Sometimes I think I live more closely to the past than the present.
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She wondered that hope was so much harder then despair.
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It is not wise to give something old and powerful something they care about. And I am very old.
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I told them, he said in a clear, carrying voice, that they should not give someone as old and powerful as I a daughter to love. That it would end badly.
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Want to play some Battleship?” I wasn’t leaving him alone with that thing in there. Chad armed himself with a notebook, and we went to war. Historically, war has often been used as a distraction for problems at home.
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You cannot sacrifice the world for your children.
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No-pocket jeans are only slightly less irritating than thong underwear.
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Anna looked at Brother Wolf. ‘I’d like to see someone try to put a radio control collar on Charles. It might be fun to watch on YouTube.
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Moonlight streamed in, sending loving beams over his face. He closed his eyes and basked in it, and I could tell it was calling to him, even though the moon was not full. She didn't speak to me, but Samuel had once described her song to me in the words of a poet. The expression of bliss on his face while he listened to her music made him beautiful.
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A man who will risk nothing for love is not a man
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There is something incredibly arousing about being wanted. I pulled my hand back and sucked in a deep breath. “Adam,” I said.
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Over the years, she'd learned not to question him to closely—mostly because he wouldn't answer her.
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Coffee or orange juice?” “Water is fine.” His eyebrows went up. “Uh-oh,” Auriele said, but she was smiling. Darryl was not. “Are you implying that my coffee is not the best in four counties? Or my fresh-squeezed orange juice is less than perfect?
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Is it like a Harry Potter thing? He turned his head then. A what? A Harry Potter thing, she said again. You know, don't say Voldemort's name because you might attract his attention? He considered it. You mean the children's book. I have got to get you to watch more movies, she said. You'd enjoy these. Yes, I mean the childr
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You'd tell the world what your best friend wore to sleep if you thought it made a good enough story.
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Cheeses crusty, got all musty, got damp on the stone of a peach,” I agreed. He looked blank, so I repeated it with proper emphasis. “ ChEEZ-zes crusty. Got Al -musty. Got DAMp on the StoneofapeaCH.
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There is no cash in battling evil: just the opposite in my experience
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Mercy?” “Just a minute,” I told Adam. “I'm in the middle of a revelation.
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