A brick could be used to test my new levitation machine. Still, I’d rather test the machine out by seeing if it can lift my heavy, elephantine penis off the floor. But before I turn the machine on, I’m going to ask you to stand at least ten feet back, because I wouldn’t want to accidentally impregnate you.
What happened?" he asked brusquely, interrupting me. "What do you mean, what happened?""I sensed your fear, heard you call out my name.""I...no, I didn't." Stone Wall, I told myself. Great Wall of China, around my thoughts."The Great Wall of China isn't going to do it, Violet. Come on, tell me what happened.
With the Book hitching rides, hiding on people, guess we’re all going to be dressing like skanks for a while, huh? Skintight or skin. Dude, everybody’s everything’s gonna be hanging out, and some o’ those fat chicks at the abbey are gonna gross my eyeballs right outta my head. Muffin tops and camel toes, gah!
She was the most wonderful woman for prowling about the house. How she got from one story to another was a mystery beyond solution. A lady so decorous in herself, and so highly connected, was not to be suspected of dropping over the banisters or sliding down them, yet her extraordinary facility of locomotion suggested the wild idea.
Max, you're acting like a child, the Voice said. You're above rebelling against your fate just to rebel. You've got a date with destiny. Don't be late."I brushed some hair out of my eyes. Is that a movie quote? Or is it an actual date? I don't remember destiny asking me. I never even gave destiny my phone number.
I love like a lawnmower in the desert. I love like a solar-powered lunar vehicle. I love like a wind-powered kite factory. Some might even say I love like an ice cube in an oven, but I’d vehemently disagree. It’s not an ice cube, it’s an ice sculpture—of your heart, and it’s melting at this very moment.
Log Entry: SOL 118My conversation with NASA about the Water Reclaimer was boring and riddled with technical details. So I'll paraphrase for you:Me: "This is obviously a clog. How about I take it apart and check the internal tubing?"NASA: (After about 5 hours of deliberation) "No. You'll fuck it up and die."So I took it apart.
All right I think we've been down here in the dark long enough. There's a whole other world upstairs. Take my hand Constant Reader and I'll be happy to lead you back into the sunshine. I'm happy to go there because I believe most people are essentially good. I know that I am. It's you I'm not entirely sure of.
Jake wasn't about to be seduced like some schoolgirl. Not by a man who went by the unlikely name of Tornado, not by anyone. He stood as firmly as he could in the mud and tore his mouth from the kiss, staring into too dark eyes. As his hands made their way into Tor's wet jeans he said, "This doesn't mean I like you, you know.
Today was a rocket ship of a day. If you guessed that today was Monday (Moonday), you’d win the “Astronauts Make Better Lovers” Award. But I say, Take off your fucking helmet when I’m talking to you. And do they really make better lovers? I say, Put on your concrete boots, Lunar Child III, and come back to earth.
The two seemed on casual terms, leading me to wonder how long this limousine had been in her life, and whether she had ever seen the inside, and if so, whether she climbed in the front seat or the back, and if the front, did she help navigate, and if the back, did she change into a fancy dress and sip champagne - or just sparkling wine.
She handed him a glass of water and two Aleve gelcaps. “They’re anti-inflammatories. They will dull the pain a little bit and keep down swelling and redness. Swallow the pills, don’t chew.”“Well, I thought I’d stick them into my nose and impersonate a walrus, but if you insist, I’ll swallow them.
Politics and prostitution have to be the only jobs where inexperience is considered a virtue. In what other profession would you brag about not knowing stuff? “I’m not one of those fancy Harvard heart surgeons. I’m just an unlicensed plumber with a dream and I’d like to cut your chest open.” The crowd cheers.
He begged to know to which of his fair cousins the excellency of its cookery was owing. Briefly forgetting her manners, Mary grabbed her fork and leapt from her chair onto the table. Lydia, who was seated nearest her, grabbed her ankle before she could dive at Mr. Collins and, presumably, stab him about the head and neck for such an insult.
...it’s just another one of those things I don’t understand: everyone impresses upon you how unique you are, encouraging you to cultivate your individuality while at the same time trying to squish you and everyone else into the same ridiculous mould. It’s an artist’s right to rebel against the world’s stupidity.
