Asad

“It is our policy not to negotiate with terrorists."
I stared at the phone, my eyes wide. I was speechless and very, very angry.
"Are you still there?" The voice belonged to an unnamed official in the NSA. Perston‐Smythe introduced him as one of Cox's supervisors.
"What the fuck do you mean by that?"
"It is the policy of this government not to negotiate with terrorists."
"Do you mean to tell me that you consider me a terrorist?"
He sounded almost prim. "Certainly. You've taken a hostage."
"Terrorists," I said, gritting my teeth, "attack the innocent to achieve their goals. If you're about to tell me that you consider Cox an innocent bystander, then this conversation is over."
"Terrorists are—"
"Oh, fuck it! You want a terrorist action so you can consider me a terrorist? There's no way you can keep me out of your nuclear arsenals. Where do you want the first one to go off? The Pentagon? The White House? The Capitol building? How about Moscow or Kiev? Wouldn't that be interesting? Do you think they'd launch?"
His voice was a lot less prim. "You wouldn't do that."
"Well, as a matter of fact, I wouldn't. BECAUSE I'M NOT A TERRORIST!" I slammed the phone down on the hook and jumped.”
― Steven Gould

“It was indeed a long wait, well over two hours. I sat in the car and listened to the radio
and tried to picture, bite by bite, what it was like to eat a medianochesandwich: the
crackle of the bread crust, socrisp and toasty it scratches the inside of your mouth as you
bite down. Then the first taste of mustard, followed by the soothing cheese and the salt of
the meat. Next bite—a piece of pickle. Chew it all up; let the flavors mingle. Swallow.
Take a big sip of Iron Beer (pronounced Ee-roan Bay-er, and it’s a soda). Sigh. Sheer
bliss. I would rather eat than do anything else except play with the Passenger. It’s a true
miracle of genetics that I am not fat.”
― Jeff Lindsay

“Davy,
Didn't you realize that the only thing I wanted from Mark was his version of the night you, 
well, removed him from the party? I know Mark is a sleaze. I'm not involved with him in any 
way, but when you vanished from in front of me, what was I to think?
I don't know if you're even human. For all I knew you fly around in a flying saucer kidnapping 
humans left and right. If this sort of jumping to conclusions bothers you, think how much 
alternative explanation you offered.
I know you're hurt, and I guess you were hurt even more when you thought I was getting 
involved with Mark again. But, dammit, you are doing your share of lashing out, yourself.
Millie
P.S. I still don't know if you are human, but I know that I care for you enough that you can 
hurt me. You did.”
― Steven Gould

“Life is a book and there are a thousand pages I have not yet read.”
― Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Princess