Margarito Linsner > Margarito's Quotes

“With my home secured as much as I could make it, I went to buy a gun. ”
― Steven Decker, INNOCENT AGAIN: A LEGAL THRILLER

“On the 16th of Febuary 1312, when Isabella was aged sixteen years, the couple were at their hunting lodge when Edward suddenly took Isabella into his arms and began to kiss her and pay her a lot of attention, slowly and tenderly.”
― Michael G. Kramer, Isabella Warrior Queen

“Out of the bedroom window, Tara watches the silver moon in the night sky cast a faint glow on the pine trees.  Ian was right.  It’s time to move on.  Not to forget, but to forge ahead.”
― Dawn Chalker

“The salt of Elat stored on the deck began to dissolve and the purple colour in the water deepened as it spread out. As the concentration of salt increased around the first transport, the ferocity of the othium fires became more intense. In a few moments the heat and the salt caused the othium to reach critical level, and a huge explosion blew both transports into matchwood. The blasts grew in intensity as rock after rock exploded.”
― Robert Reid, White Light Red Fire

“What’s “ague?”‘ Raya asked.
‘Malaria.’ Oscar said.
‘Oh, great.’
‘Hey, you want plague? They got that too.’ Raya ignored
the cat.”
― Sara Pascoe, Being a Witch, and Other Things I Didn't Ask For

“Before going to breakfast, you are in your
room experiencing the gongs of a classic religious
bell, a unique and cuddly invitation to the morning meditation session. In ten minutes it will be 7:00 a.m.—dawn’s brisk reminder that life will never be easy. Mornings are a bit cruel.”
― Tom Hillman, Digging for God

“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

“If you want to be great, you have to be a leader. You’ve got to listen to me, son. That’s what we brought you here to do, to be a leader. And you can do it.”
― Vernon Davis, Playing Ball: Life Lessons from My Journey to the Super Bowl and Beyond

“He summoned you into the circle, Scott. For whatever reason, I don't know. But now you've left, you've become a loose thread. He won't sit back with the possibility you might cause his whole world to unravel around him.”
― R.D. Ronald, The Elephant Tree

“Look at this limp cravet. And the sad state of those cuffs. I can hardly bring myself to look upon them.”
― Baroness Emmuska Orczy

“It's a long time that I've loved you. Never, never go away.”
― Margaret Wise Brown, A Celebration of the Seasons: Goodnight Songs

“Тем временем McDonald's без устали преследует мелких владельцев магазинов и рестораторов шотландского происхождения за недопустимую в честной конкуренции склонность этой нации иметь приставку «Мак» в своих фамилиях. Компания подала в суд на сосисочный киоск MсAllan в Дании; на бутербродную в шотландском стиле McMunchies в Букингемшире; преследовала принадлежащую Элизабет Маккофи (Elizabeth McCaughey) кофейню McCoffee в прибрежном районе Сан-Франциско; двадцать лет ведет войну с человеком по имени Роналд Макдоналд, чей семейный ресторан (McDonald's Family Restaurant) в крохотном городишке штата Иллинойс существует с 1956 года.”
― Naomi Klein, No Logo

“Mysterious paradox: time, motionless here, gallops out there. In my contracted world, the hours drag on but the months flash by.”
― Jean-Dominique Bauby, The Diving Bell and the Butterfly

“Thomas kept his focus on Gally. He saw a sadness in the boy’s eyes that made his heart break. And he also saw something he’d never seen there before: trust. Genuine trust.”
― James Dashner, The Death Cure