I was shown into a room. A red room. Red wallpaper, red curtains, red carpet. They said it was a sitting-room, but I don’t know why they’d decided to confine its purpose just to sitting. Obviously, sitting was one of the things you could do in a room this size; but you could also stage operas, hold cycling races, and have an absolutely cracking game of frisbee, all at the same time, without having to move any of the furniture.It could rain in a room this big.

Halt regarded him. He loved Horace like a younger brother. Even like a second son, after Will. He admired his skill with a sword and his courage in battle. But sometimes, just sometimes, he felt an overwhelming desire to ram the young warrior's head against a convenient tree."You have no sense of drama or symbolism, do you?" he asked."Huh?" replied Horace, not quite understanding. Halt looked around for a convenient tree. Luckily for Horace, there were none in sight.

I had a dream about you. You were a lone candle on a barren vanilla cake, and I was the mighty breath sent to extinguish your light. I felt like God’s wrath coming down to destroy the Illuminati, while you probably thought I was the Satan coming to snuff out the light of the world. And the spectators who were gathered around the spectacle probably thought it was all one big party, as they stood still like mindless zombies singing “Happy Birthday.”


Well," Mr. Cheeseman interjected. "Perhaps there's an easy solution to this. Maybe Captain Fabulous has an alter ego.""What's an alter ego?" asked Gerard."It's a superhero's true but secret identity," said Chip. "You know, the way that Superman is really Clark Kent." "Superman is really Clark Kent?""It's pretty obvious," said Penny. "To everyone but you and Lois Lane.""Okay," Gerard conceded. "Captain Fabulous's alter ego will be...Teddy Roosevelt.

I stuff another handful of Raisinets in my mouth. What gets me is the 'pretty face' bit. 'Cause I won't mind being reminded I'm fat as long as you water it down first. Why not say, Hey I'm going to insult you, but first I will congratulate your fortunate genetics and appropriate appliclation of Bobbi Brown cosmetics to prevent you from hitting me. Sh*t; I kind of prefer being called a 'fat bitch.' At least it doesn't pull any punches.

You knocked the door down." Disbelief rang in his matter-of-fact tone. "I know," she answered,unable to say anything else. Unable to look away from his body."But it's solid oak.""I know." She felt the solid oak beneath her and a little shocked that she'd done it, too. If it mattered at all, her shoulder felt a little bruised. And it was the slight pain that brought some reality back into the moment. "You don't have any clothes on." Oh, God, did she really say that?

Keep up," said an irritable voice in her ear. It was Jace, who had dropped back to walk beside her. "I don't want to have to keep looking behind me to make sure nothing's happened to you.""So don't bother.""Last time I left you alone, a demon attacked you," he pointed out. "Well, I'd certainly hate to interrupt your pleasant night stroll with my sudden death."He blinked. "There is a fine line between sarcasm and outright hostility, and you seem to have crossed it.

The Marquis sighed. "I thought it was just a legend," he said. "Like the alligators in the sewers of New York City."Old Bailey nodded, sagely: "What, the big white buggers? They're down there. I had a friend lost a head to one of them." A moment of silence. Old Naeiley handed the statue back to the Marquis. Then he raised his hand, and snapped it, like a crocodile hand, at the Carabas. "It was OK," gurned Old Bailey with a grin that was most terrible to behold. "He had another.

Tighe took control of his thoughts.“You need to use the bathroom. When I tell you to, go into the house. Two cats will try to comein with you. You must let them in. Don’t allow anyone to stop them. Once inside the house, you’llgo into the bathroom and close the door, pull down your pants, then curl up on the floor and go tosleep.”The bastard’s career would be over when they caught him, literally, with his pants down. But hedeserved it for kicking a cat.

You're right, my problems are the biggest problems ever," George said. "No, honestly, it's horrible to be me. I'm rich, talented, and I make girls cry.""How do you make girls cry, exactly?"George turned to her. His blue eyes widened. His lovely face took on a forlorn, deeply troubled expression. He leaned forward, and, in a theatrical whisper, said, "My past is tragic. I wouldn't want to burden you with it. It's a pain I must suffer alone. In the rain. In silence.

So,” sneered Fudge, recovering himself, “you intend to take on Dawlish, Shacklebolt, Dolores, and myself single-handed, do you, Dumbledore?”“Merlin’s beard, no,” said Dumbledore, smiling. “Not unless you are foolish enough to force me to.”“He will not be single-handed!” said Professor McGonagall loudly, plunging her hand inside her robes.“Oh yes he will, Minerva!” said Dumbledore sharply. “Hogwarts needs you!

Wehehehehell, if it isn’t Ollie-Ollie-oxidant-free..."You can take…all the tea in China…put it in a big brown…bag for me.He’s as sweet as tupelo honey; he’s an angel of the first degree.Men with insight…men in granite…knights in armor bent on…chivalry.He’s as sweet as…tupelo honey; just like honey, baby…from the bee."=> For those who read and liked "When Irish eyes are sparkling"Can i have a musician here?

I wish I had only offered youa sovereign instead of ten pounds. Give me back nine pounds, Jane; I’ve a use for it.''And so have I, sir,' I returned, putting my hands and my purse behind me. 'I could not spare the money on any account.''Little niggard!' said he, 'refusing me a pecuniary request! Give me five pounds, Jane.''Not five shillings, sir; nor five pence.''Just let me look at the cash.''No, sir; you are not to be trusted.

Mortimer had maxed three credit cards stocking the cave with canned goods and medical supplies and tools and everything a man needed to live through the end of the world. There were more than a thousand books along shelves in the driest part of the cave. There used to be several boxes of pornography until Mortimer realized that he'd spent nearly ten days in a row sitting in the cave masturbating. He burned the dirty magazines to keep from doing some terrible whacking injury to himself.

I should go in alone," Valkyrie said, speaking loudly to be heard. "If we both go in, it'll look to official.""So I'll just stay out here?" Skulduggery asked. "But what'll I do? There's no one to talk to. It's boring.""You're standing on the roof of a train," Valkyrie pointed out. "If you find this boring, you really need your head examined. Just wait here. I'll do what has to be done and I'll be find out."Fine," he said, sounding grumpy. "Don't be long.