Magnus, standing by the door, snapped his fingers impatiently. "Move it along, teenagers. The only person who gets to canoodle in my bedroom is my magnificent self.""Canoodle?" repeated Clary, never having heard the word before."Magnificent?" repeated Jace, who was just being nasty. Magnus growled. The growl sounded like "Get out.
...And of course they'll get their milk from us, because Gooch's milk in the village really can't be trusted. I do hope, Henry, the vicarage drains are all right if Martin is to go there, because the French are rather vague about drains.''Yes, but darling, they aren't bringing their drains with them'...
They were small, brightly coloured, happy little creatures who secreted some of the nastiest toxins in the world, which is why the job of looking after the large vivarium where they happily passed their days was given to first-year students, on the basis that if they got things wrong there wouldn't be too much education wasted.
Ready?" Aeron called over.Michael span to see him giving a thumbs up to the booth. His eye was drawn down to the huge war hammer hanging from his other hand."How about we start with a chase? Try to touch the far wall and get back here before I cripple you." He smiled as if he'd said 'tag you', not 'cripple you'.
Are you smarter than my chicken?” cried a weathered, wild-haired woman holding a nonplussed bird over her head. At her feet was a wooden board covered with numbers and arcane symbols. “Lay your bets! Test your wits against a trained fowl! One coppin a try! Are you smarter than my chicken? You might be in for a surprise!
It's a long story. Want a refill?""No, let's start the steak. Where's the button?""Right here.""Well, push it.""Me? You offered to cook.""Ben Caxton, I will lie here and starve before I will get up to push a button six inches from your finger""As you wish." He pressed the button. "But don't forget who cooked dinner.
He'd changed since the last summer. Instead of Bermuda shorts and a T-shirt, he wore a button-down shirt, khaki pants, and leather loafers. His sandy hair, which used to be so unruly, was now clipped short. He look like an evil male model, showing off what the fashionable college-age villain was wearing to Harvard this year.
Where do rumors come from, Sir Kofa?" i was truly curious to know the answer."Where don't they come from? I suppose the majority of rumors are a combination of leaked information and the astouding imaginations of numerous storytellers. And, of course, the hope that things aren't really as boring as they seem on the surface.
Is there a particular reason you keep biting vampires?"Will touched the dried blood on his wrists, and smiled. "They don't expect it.""Of course they don't. They know what happens when one of us consumes vampire blood. They probablyexpect you to have more sense.""That expectation never seems to serve them very well, does it?
So this is it," said Arthur, "We are going to die.""Yes," said Ford, "except... no! Wait a minute!" He suddenly lunged across the chamber at something behind Arthur's line of vision. "What's this switch?" he cried."What? Where?" cried Arthur, twisting round."No, I was only fooling," said Ford, "we are going to die after all.
Could you just call me Pigeon?” he asked the teacher when she read his name.“Does your mother call you Pigeon?”“No.”“Then to me you are Paul.”...“Nathan Sutter,” the teacher read.“My mother never calls me Nathan.”“Is it Nate?”“She calls me Honeylips.
If an optimist had his left arm chewed off by an alligator, he might say in a pleasant and hopeful voice, "Well this isn't too bad, I don't have a left arm anymore but at least nobody will ever ask me if I'm left-handed or right-handed," but most of us would say something more along the lines of, "Aaaaaa! My arm! My arm!
You talk weird.” She whispered as she stared up at the white ceiling.“Its part of my barely there practically nonexistent charm, but just like genital herpes, I grow on ya, kid and I’ll getcha in the end.” Sienna replied with a smirk, although her words were vaguely comical, everything else about her was not.
Ms. Wormwood: Calvin, can you tell us what Lewis and Clark did? Calvin: No, but I can recite the secret superhero origin of each member of Captain Napalm's Thermonuclear League of Liberty. Ms. Wormwood: See me after class, Calvin. Calvin: [retrospectively] I'm not dumb. I just have a command of thoroughly useless information.
Do not do that again," he said stiffly."Don't kiss me back then," I retorted.He stared at me for what seemed like forever. "I don't give 'Zen lessons' to hear myself talk. I don't give them because you're another student. I'm doing this to teach you control.""You're doing a great job," I said bitterly.
