Casting my eyes on Mr. Wemmick as we went along, to see what he was like in the light of day, I found him to be a dry man, rather short in stature, with a square wooden face, whose expression seemed to have been imperfectly chipped out with a dull-edged chisel. There were some marks in it that might have been dimples, if the material had been softer and the instrument finer, but which, as it was, were only dints. The chisel had made three or four of these attempts at embellishment over his nose, but had given them up without an effort to smooth them off.

Raney flipped the book over and looked at the jacket cover, realized it was one of the books Bo had left at her house the first summer he'd been in Quentin--one of the few he hadn't read. "It's a novel, Grandpa. ENDER'S GAME by a man named Card. Orson Card," and she continued reading through the first page until he interrupted her again. "I just got out of the hospital--I don't want to hear a story about people having operations." "Well, what DO you want? LITTLE HOUSE ON THE PRAIRIE? "At least I'd learn something useful.

You came up this gut-wrenching road yesterday by yourself?" Cassie exclaimed. "You deserve a good cuffing just for driving this goat path on your own.""It's not so bad once you get used to dodging the ruts.""You've got some nerve calling these canyons ruts.""Cassandra Hudson, where is your sense of adventure?""I dropped it off going over that last rut-crossing when only two wheels were on the ground.""Those ones are a bit exhilarating, aren't they?" Alexandra shot Cassie a quick look and wink. "Keep your eyes on the road!""What road?""Exactly!

A vine from one tree shot out, tripping Blaise. He and Merewyn rolled to the ground. Varian stood between them and the trees, which shot blast after blast at him. He deflected them, but even so the heat from the fire was scorching. 'Go, Blaise,' he said. 'Get Merewyn out of here.'Blaise nodded before he crawled to Merewyn under the barrage.'Hold!'The blast stopped as the three of them froze into place.Again the woman appeared in the fire to stare at them maliciously. 'What is it you do?''I'm crawling,' Blaise answered.

I'm pretty well. So's the family, and so's the boys, except for a sort of rash as is a running through the school, and rather puts 'em off their feed. But it's a ill wind as blows no good to nobody; that's what I always say when them lads has a wisitation. A wisitation, sir, is the lot of mortality. Mortality itself, sir, is a wisitation. The world is chock full of wisitations; and if a boy repines at a wisitation and makes you uncomfortable with his noise, he must have his head punched. That's going according to the Scripter, that is.

Where did you get that assault weapon?""Assault weapon?" Zach turned his head to look at her. "Well, lookey there. You're cute when you blush."Maddie's face grew hotter, but at least he'd mistaken the reason for her embarrassment.Zach turned his face back toward the ceiling. "That there's standard equipment, darlin'.""There's nothing standard about that.""I didn't hear you complaining.""Of course not. You sprang it on me when I was mentally incompetent."Zach laughed out loud. "That you were, sweet Maddie that you were." Maddie and Zach

Aw, come on, admit it—you feel like Cinderella, don’t you?” “No, Darren, I don’t. And do you know why?” “No, sugar, you tell me why.” “Because I’m a man. I’ve got a big fat one and I like to fuck other guys.” Darren was laughing over the phone now, and it made Reece grin. “And Ben isn’t a prince, he’s a cop. A big, sexy cop who fucks like a machine. He’s a man. I’m a man. We’re men.” He nodded sharply. “Now fuck off. I’m arranging flowers.

It felt like an eternity before he gingerly lifted himself from the table and staggered backwards. Glass shards protruded from chest to groin. The guy looked like a bloody porcupine. A cute, tall bloody porcupine. I’m tall too. Five foot ten. But he had at least four inches on me, even with my thick-heeled boots.“What’s your name?” he slurred. While visions of reckless homicide charges danced in my head, I contemplated using an alias. Finally, I said my real name, “Sam.”“Nice to meet you, Sammers. I’m Jake,” he said.

I dinnae get people, like they all want to be watched, to be seen, like all the time. They put up their pictures online and let people they dinnae like look at them! And people they’ve never met as well, and they all pretend tae be shinier than they are – and some are even posting on like four sites; their bosses are watching them at work, the cameras watch them on the bus, and on the train, and in Boots, and even outside the chip shop. Then even at home – they’re going online to look and see who they can watch, and to check who’s watching them!

ALGERNON. I really don't see anything romantic in proposing. It is very romantic to be in love. But there is nothing romantic about a definite proposal. Why, one may be accepted. One usually is, I believe. Then the excitement is all over. The very essence of romance is uncertainty. If ever I get married, I'll certainly try to forget the fact.JACK. I have no doubt about that, dear Algy. The Divorce Court was specially invented for people whose memories are so curiously constituted.ALGERNON. Oh! there is no use speculating on that subject. Divorces are made in Heaven-...

Hello there," Inigo hollered when he could wait no more.The man in black glanced up and grunted."I've been watching you."The man in black nodded."Slow going," Inigo said."Look, I don't mean to be rude," the man in black said finally, "but I'm rather busy just now, so try not to distract me.""I'm sorry," Inigo said.The man in black grunted again."I don't suppose you could speed things up," Inigo said."If you want to speed things up so much," the man in black said, clearly quite angry now, "you could lower a rope or a tree branch or find some other helpful thing to do.

Oh. Dane. That's his name, right?" she asked. "He took our phones and put the shackles on us, but said we could use the phone on the table. I'm not sure if it's some kind of dominance posturing," she trailed off for a moment. "Actually yeah, having been around him for more than thirty seconds, I'm relatively certain that this is one hundred percent, testosterone-laden alpha male posturing. Is Jake like this?""I might be an idiot," I said, "but even I wouldn't fall for this sort of thing. A guy who goes to this length to seem awesome must have a dick the size of a gherkin.

And I'll have you know that if you hurt my son again, if he so much as sighs sadly over his coffee, I will hire a man, a Russian, probably, to hunt you down and rip all that shiny black hair from your head, then break your skinny arms and legs, and set you on fire, and then put you out with a hammer. And should there be children from your beastly rutting, I shall have the Russian man cut them to tiny pieces and feed them to Madame Jacob's dog. because, although he may be only a worthless, simpleminded, libertine artist, Lucien is my favorite, and I will not have him hurt. Do you understand?

For instance, a fireman is a brave fellow! He fears nothing, least ofall fire! Well, the fireman in question, who had gone to make a roundof inspection in the cellars and who, it seems, had ventured a littlefarther than usual, suddenly reappeared on the stage, pale, scared,trembling, with his eyes starting out of his head, and practicallyfainted in the arms of the proud mother of little Jammes.[1] And why?Because he had seen coming toward him, AT THE LEVEL OF HIS HEAD, BUTWITHOUT A BODY ATTACHED TO IT, A HEAD OF FIRE! And, as I said, afireman is not afraid of fire.The fireman's name was Pampin.

It is a curious fact that small boys are more terrified of their babysitters than small girls are. In part, this is because small girls and babysitters, who are usually slightly larger girls, belong to the same species, and therefore understand each other. Small boys, on the other hand, do not understand girls, and therefore being looked after by one is a little like a hamster being looked after by a shark. If you are a small boy, it may be some consolation to you to know that even large boys do not understand girls, and girls, by and large, do not understand boys. This makes adult life very interesting.