Patrick Junkins > Patrick's Quotes

“Snake Street is an area I should avoid. Yet that night I was drawn there as surely as if I had an appointment. 
The Snake House is shabby on the outside to hide the wealth within. Everyone knows of the wealth, but facades, like the park’s wall, must be maintained. A lantern hung from the porch eaves. A sign, written in Utte, read ‘Kinship of the Serpent’. I stared at that sign, at that porch, at the door with its twisted handle, and wondered what the people inside would do if I entered. Would they remember me? Greet me as Kin? Or drive me out and curse me for faking my death?  Worse, would they expect me to redon the life I’ve shed? Staring at that sign, I pissed in the street like the Mearan savage I’ve become.
As I started to leave, I saw a woman sitting in the gutter. Her lamp attracted me. A memsa’s lamp, three tiny flames to signify the Holy Trinity of Faith, Purity, and Knowledge.  The woman wasn’t a memsa. Her young face was bruised and a gash on her throat had bloodied her clothing. Had she not been calmly assessing me, I would have believed the wound to be mortal. I offered her a copper. 
She refused, “I take naught for naught,” and began to remove trinkets from a cloth bag, displaying them for sale.
Her Utte accent had been enough to earn my coin. But to assuage her pride I commented on each of her worthless treasures, fighting the urge to speak Utte. (I spoke Universal with the accent of an upper class Mearan though I wondered if she had seen me wetting the cobblestones like a shameless commoner.) After she had arranged her wares, she looked up at me. “What do you desire, O Noble Born?”
I laughed, certain now that she had seen my act in front of the Snake House and, letting my accent match the coarseness of my dress, I again offered the copper.
 “Nay, Noble One. You must choose.” She lifted a strand of red beads. “These to adorn your lady’s bosom?”
            I shook my head. I wanted her lamp. But to steal the light from this woman ... I couldn’t ask for it. She reached into her bag once more and withdrew a book, leather-bound, the pages gilded on the edges. “Be this worthy of desire, Noble Born?”
 I stood stunned a moment, then touched the crescent stamped into the leather and asked if she’d stolen the book. She denied it. I’ve had the Training; she spoke truth. Yet how could she have come by a book bearing the Royal Seal of the Haesyl Line? I opened it. The pages were blank.
“Take it,” she urged. “Record your deeds for study. Lo, the steps of your life mark the journey of your soul.”
  I told her I couldn’t afford the book, but she smiled as if poverty were a blessing and said, “The price be one copper. Tis a wee price for salvation, Noble One.”
  So I bought this journal. I hide it under my mattress. When I lie awake at night, I feel the journal beneath my back and think of the woman who sold it to me. Damn her. She plagues my soul. I promised to return the next night, but I didn’t. I promised to record my deeds. But I can’t. The price is too high.”
― K. Ritz, Sheever's Journal, Diary of a Poison Master

“When Divine is awakened, so too are the forces of evil. And these two forces will clash as it has been since the beginning…”
― Cade Mengler, The Companions

“The skies were filled with an unreal fire; blue, burnt with amber, red, orange and yellow. This fire was no natural thing. It clawed across the sky, and below it all life shivered and retreated. The land lay scorched, the mountains and glens trembling.
The man stood pale in the false light, a statue, watching. Then he moved, shaking off the stillness, and looked towards the power that shook the world. His clenched fist opened and clean white light leapt to the sky. A huge concussion rocked the mountains. All light was quenched. The sky turned black, then clear and blue. A distant rainbow promised that all was well and God still cared for this lost land.
Alastair Munro fell back, the soft heather a safety net, all power gone, all anger lost. Angus Ferguson was beside him as ever, a reassuring voice, a reminder of why Munro was there, why he must go on, why this was his destiny”
― Robert Reid, White Light Red Fire

“Joanna had finally identified the terrorist who had kidnapped her son.”
― Michael Parker, The Eagle's Covenant

“If you always try to subjugate people by coercion, because you are strong, then sooner or later you will run into somebody who is just as strong, if not stronger. Then you'll be in trouble.”
― Max Nowaz, The Polymorph

“Edward reached out with his arms and embraced her, his heart filled with a mix of sadness and hope. He desperately wanted to believe her promise and hold on to her vow that they would be reunited soon. Still, young Edward’s life had been so full of disappointment that it was hard for him to believe his unfortunate circumstances might soon be ending. He clung to her, wishing she would never let him go.”
― Steven Decker, One More Life to Live

“Hydrogen is used in more compounds (nearly 100) than any other element because it can form bonds with almost all metals, metalloids, and non-metals. Some of the most common hydrogen compounds are water (H2O), Hydrogen Peroxide (H202) and table sugar (C12H220111)”
― Sybrina Durant, Magical Elements of the Periodic Table Presented Alphabetically by the Metal Horn Unicorns

“He says it was tourists being careless, where I see a fiendishly clever murder attempt.”
“Mr. McCarthy, you’d better explain.”
“Patrick, please. You’ll be tempted to laugh. It was a banana skin.”
― Susan Rowland, Murder on Family Grounds

“Mr. Sir stared at her. He had three long red marks slanting across the left side of his face. Stanley didn’t know if the redness was caused by her nail polish or his blood. It took a moment for the venom to sink in. Suddenly, Mr. Sir screamed and clutched his face with both hands. He let himself fall over, rolling off the hearth and onto the rug.”
― Louis Sachar, Holes

“You're my lifeline," he whispers, and he kisses my knuckles before pressing my palm against his.”
― E.L. James, Fifty Shades Darker

“Sentiva dentro di sé un vigore, un'allegria, come non ne aveva mai provati. Con una sorta di intuito si affrettava a goderne, come se indovinasse che in avvenire ogni essere amato, ogni bambino amato le avrebbe rubato un po' di quella forza, di quella sicurezza, di quel freddo coraggio, e l'avrebbero resa simile agli altri, al gregge in cui ciascuno si stringeva ai suoi, a quelli del proprio sangue, nelle tenebre,”
― Irène Némirovsky, The Wine of Solitude

“Do Your Best Work”
― Malcolm X

“Dying should come easy:
like a freight train you
don't hear when
your back is
turned.”
― Charles Bukowski, The Flash of Lightning Behind the Mountain: New Poems – Gritty and Inspiring Unpublished Verse by Charles Bukowski

“Every war casts up certain small groups among ethnic populations: minorities too cowardly to fight openly, too insignificant to play any independent political part, but despicable enough to act as paid executioners to one of the fighting powers. In this war those people were the Ukrainian and Lithuanian Fascists.”
― Władysław Szpilman, The Pianist: The Extraordinary Story of One Man's Survival in Warsaw, 1939-45