Robbin Furst

“I knew Dad was concerned about my past associations. I was from the Trash Alley. It was my community. I hung out with thugs from the Frog Bottom, the Burns Bottoms, the Red Line, the S-Curve, the Sandfield, the Morning Side, and a bunch of other places that shall remain nameless. I knew all of the “Legends of the Hood”: Sin Man, Swap, Boo Boo, Emp-Man, Cookie Man, Shank, Polar Bear, Bae Willy, Bae Bruh, Skullhead Ned, Pimp, Crunch, and Goat Turd (just to name a few). I thought maybe Dad had summoned me as a “show and tell” for the kids in his neighborhood—the hardliner to scare those wayward suburban brats back into reality.”
― Harold Phifer, Surviving Chaos: How I Found Peace at A Beach Bar

“Callan sucked in a breath. As a sniper, he’d been trained by the Marines to know and recognize moments. 

Moments when all the training—his focused mind, muscle memory, weapon knowledge . . . 

When all the preparation—target reconnaissance, angle of attack, position scouting . . . 

When all the setup—hidden amid the terrain, barrel aimed, trajectory known . . . 

When everything came together in one crucial moment—when the sniper squeezed the trigger and took his shot.”
― J. Rose Black, Losing My Breath

“I don't know why men like to barbecue so much. Maybe its the only thing they can cook. Or maybe they're just closet pyromaniacs.”
― Cecelia Ahern, P.S. I Love You

“Even the youngest must have known they were now steaming away from the country of their birth, never to return. They’d all suffered through the trauma of the war and the loss of their parents and were presently being further traumatized by their banishment to Australia.”
― Steven Decker, One More Life to Live