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0e7d19e
|
"Are you happy here?" I said at last. He considered this for a moment. "Not particularly," he said. "But you're not very happy where you are, either." --
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richard
|
Donna Tartt |
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d708ea6
|
In the year 2025, the best men don't run for president, they run for their lives. . . .
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ben
dystopia
king
life
man
network
richard
richards
running
stephen
survival
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Stephen King |
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7551d4d
|
Craziness is only a matter of degree, and there are lots of people besides me who have the urge to roll heads. They go to stock-car races and the horror movies and the wrestling matches they have in Portland Expo. Maybe what she said smacked of all those things, but I admired her for saying out loud, all the same--the price of honesty is always high. She had an admirable grasp of the fundamentals. Besides, she was tiny and pretty.
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|
charlie
decker
grace
king
rage
richard
stanner
stephen
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Richard Bachman |
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ea95037
|
"He balled his hand into a fist. "You are such a bitch." "Woof, woof," I said."
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|
funny
laurell-k-hamilton
richard
|
Laurell K. Hamilton |
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fe0cdd2
|
You've got a shitty habit, you know it? I've noticed it on all those TV drive-safely pitches that you do. You breathe in people's ears. You sound like a stallion in heat, Philbrick. That's a shitty habit. You also sound like you're reading off a teleprompter, even when you're not. You ought to take care of stuff like that. You might save a life.
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|
charlie
decker
king
philbrick
rage
richard
stephen
|
Richard Bachman |
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0378ca7
|
Mr. Grace sounded like a very small child, helpless, hopeless. I had made him fuck himself with his own big tool, like one of those weird experiences you read about in the Penthouse Forum. I had taken off his witch doctor's mask and made him human. But I didn't hold it against him. To err is only human, but it's divine to forgive. I believe that sincerely.
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|
charlie
decker
grace
king
psychology
rage
richard
stephen
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Richard Bachman |
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2e4d9d6
|
He was a heavy breather. You could hear him puffing and blowing into the mike up there like some large and sweaty animal. I don't like that, never have. My father is like that on the telephone. A lot of heavy breathing in your ear, so you can almost smell the scotch and Pall Malls on his breath. It always seems unsanitary and somehow homosexual.
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|
breathing
charlie
decker
king
rage
richard
stephen
|
Richard Bachman |
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1e09fb1
|
A rap at the back door made her jump, and she peered through the window for a long time before she eased open the door a crack. She left the security chain on. 'What do you want, Richard?' Richard Morrell's police cruiser was parked in the drive. He hadn't flashed any lights or howled any sirens, so she supposed it wasn't an emergency, exactly. But she knew him well enough to know he didn't pay social visits, at least not to the Glass House. 'Good question,' Richard said. 'I guess I want a nice girl who can cook, likes action movies, and looks good in short skirts. But I'll settle for you taking the chain off the door and letting me in.
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|
funny
richard
what-you-want
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Rachel Caine |
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8456c64
|
Herk threw up the mouse, the hamburger he'd eaten for lunch, and some pasty glop that looked like tomato soup. He was just starting to ask his mother what was going on when she threw up. And there, in all that puke, that old dead mouse didn't look bad at all. It sure looked better than the rest of the stuff.
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|
charlie
decker
disgusting
king
rage
richard
stephen
vomit
|
Richard Bachman |
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5c6e8cc
|
"I'm not sure there are enough white roses in the world to make me forget Richard." I held up my hand before she could interrupt. "But I'm not sure there are enough cozy afternoons in all eternity to make me forget Jean-Claude."
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anita-blake
anita-blake-vampire-hunter
jean-claude
laurell-k-hamilton
richard
vampire
vampire-hunter
|
Laurell K. Hamilton |
|
8a1be13
|
Richard was a riddle with no answer, and I was tired of playing a game I couldn't win.
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|
narcissus-in-chains
richard
|
Laurell K. Hamilton |
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6a59068
|
"In that case, it's good that you're a human Cuisinart," she said. "I'm sorry?" "A Cuisinart. It's an appliance from the Broken. You put vegetables into it, push a button, and it chops them into tiny pieces." Richard frowned. "Why would you need an appliance to chop vegetables? Wouldn't it be easier to chop them with a knife?" "It's meant to save time," she explained. "Does it?" "Well, cleaning it usually eats up most of the time you save on chopping." "So you're telling me that I'm useless." "It's a neat gadget!" "And I'm hard to clean, apparently." She checked his face. Tiny sparks danced in his eyes. He was pulling her leg. Well. If that's how it is... "Considering last night's argument, I think that you're remarkably difficult to clean." "There probably is a retort to this that's not off-color," he said. "But I can't think of one."
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charlotte
richard
|
Ilona Andrews |
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2ae7eea
|
"Anita can speak for herself," Richard said. Jean-Claude's attention flicked back to me. "That is certainly true. But I came to see how the two of you enjoyed the play." "And pigs fly," I said. "You don't believe me?" "Not hardly," I said."
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|
jean-claude
richard
|
Laurell K. Hamilton |
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86d0980
|
Richard has informed me he is shopping for his white picket fence. I'm happy behind my black wrought iron fence. The one with the pointy spikes on top. White never really was my color.
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|
richard
|
Laurell K. Hamilton |
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a68e113
|
If she died as a result of this journey, it wouldn't be because of slavers. It would be because Richard's inability to communicate would give her a heart attack.
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|
communication
richard
|
Ilona Andrews |
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b1e40fd
|
Dick called, but he just left dirty voice-mail messages. Let's just say if I'm ever in the market for a massage involving canola oil and marabou feathers, I'm covered.
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|
dirty
funny
jane-jameson
molly-harper
nice-girls-don-t-have-fangs
richard
|
Molly Harper |
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396bdd6
|
I'd appreciate it if in the future when you come up with a plan that makes a hardened criminal pause, you could at least give me the gist of it ahead of time. In broad strokes.
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|
richard
|
Ilona Andrews |
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128fd53
|
It wasn't just my beast's hunger, but Jean-Claude's blood thirst and Richard's craving for flesh. It was all that and the ardeur running through all of it, so that one hunger fed into the next in an endless chain, a snake eating it's own tail, an Ouroboros of desires.
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|
ardeur
jean-claude
narcissus-in-chains
richard
thirst
vampire
|
Laurell K. Hamilton |
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f8a4407
|
"You were wrong," he murmured ruefully, resting his cheek on top of Amy's head. "You weren't safe with me." "I feel like Psyche kissing Cupid in the dark," Amy said dreamily. Richard drew Amy's arms around his back under his cloak. "Feel. No wings." Amy could hear the smile in the Gentian's voice. "Does that mean if I unmask you, you won't fly away?" Richard tightened his grip on Amy's arms. "Don't even consider it." "You could give me three trials, like Psyche." "With what as the prize at the end? Me, or membership in the League?" Amy managed the difficult feat of looking at him askance with her nose only inches from his. "It would be much easier for me to answer that question if I knew who you were." "What's in a name? A Gentian by any other name would--" "Be an entirely different flower," interjected Amy, swatting him on the arm. "I refuse to be fobbed off with poor imitations of Shakespeare." "If you don't like Romeo and Juliet, how about a sonnet?" Richard suggested. "Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art--" "Not that easily deterred." Amy extricated herself from Richard's arms - and his cloak, which had tangled around her knees - and hopped off the window seat. "Damnation," muttered Richard. "I'll ignore that,"offered Amy generously. "And we can go straight to the crucial question of how I'm going to help you restore the monarchy"
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poetry
richard
unexpected-rendezvous
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Lauren Willig |
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614a80e
|
"You don't have any apples to offer while you're at it, do you?" she asked sourly. "Satan tempting Eve in the garden? Not a terribly flattering role for me, is it? And you're overdressed for the part." Amy's blush rivalled the hue of the dangerous fruit they had been discussing. Somehow, Lord Richard's frankly admiring gaze made the yellow muslin of her gown feel as insubstantial as a string of fig leaves. Amy covered her confusion by saying quickly, "Might I ask a favour, my lord?" "A phoenix feather from the farthest deserts of Arabia? The head of a dragon on a bejewelled platter?" "Nothing quite that complicated," replied Amy, marvelling once again at the chameleon quality of the man beside her. How could anyone be so utterly infuriating at one moment and equally charming the next? Untrustworthy, she reminded herself. Mercurial. Changeable. "A dragon's head wouldn't be much use to me just now, unless it could offer me directions." Richard crooked an arm. "Tell me where you need to be, and I'll escort you." Amy tentatively rested her hand on the soft blue fabric of his coat. "That's quite a generous offer when you don't know where I'm going." "Ten leagues beyond the wide world's end?" suggested Richard with a lazy grin. "Methinks it is no journey?" Amy matched the quotation triumphantly, and was rewarded by the admiring light that flamed in Lord Richard's eyes."
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|
directions
garden-of-eden
poetry
richard
|
Lauren Willig |