I want to do it too!" (sitting motionless) Nudge: "Nope, you stand out like a fart in a church." Max: (muttering) "Appropriately enough." Iggy: "What about me?" (stands still) Max: "No, you're visible." Iggy: "Am not!" Max: (throws a pinecone at him) "Could I do that if I wouldn't see you?
Max. God, but she was stubborn. And tough. And closed in. Closed off. Except when she was holding Angel, or ruffling the Gasman's hair, or pushing something closer to Iggy's hand so he could find it easily without knowing anyone had helped him. Or when she was trying to untangle Nudge's mane of hair. Or-sometimes-when she was looking at Fang. He shifted on the hard ground, a half-dozen flashes of memory cycling through his brain. Max looking at him and laughing. Max leaping off a cliff, snapping out her wings, flying off, so incredibly powerful and graceful that it took his breath away. Max punching someone's lights out, her face like stone. Max kissing that weiner Sam on Anne's front porch. Gritting his teeth, Fang rolled onto his side. Max kissing him on the beach, after Ari had kicked Fang's butt. Just now, her mouth soft under his. He wished she were here, if not next to him, then somewhere in the cave, so he could hear her breathing. It was going to be hard to sleep without that tonight.
If you're texting Magnus to say 'I think u r kewl,' I'm going to kill you." "Who's Magnus?" Max inquired. "He's a warlock," said Alec. "A sexy, sexy warlock," Isabelle told Max, ignoring Alec's look of total fury. "But warlocks are bad," protested Max, looking baffled. "Exactly," said Isabelle.
The idea for Maximum Ride come from the earlier books of mine called When the Wind Blows and The Lake House, which also feature a character named Max who escapes from a quiet despicable school. Most of the similarities end there. Max and the other kids in Maximum Ride are not the same Max and kids featured in those two books. nor do Frannie and Kit play any part in Maximum Ride. I hope you enjoy the ride anyways.
I did feel Dr. Cox, the character that I was auditioning for, was too similar to the head of the hospital. He was too arrogant and mean. I approached him kind of like I had a miniature Max sitting on my shoulder. I pictured Max saying, "This guy has got to give love every once in a while. He has to!" I knew there had to be tiny little windows of redemption.
John C. McGinley
I was devastated. I'm still devastated to this day. When talent like that disappears in a flash, you can't believe it. You deny it. Max Roach, who, of course, played with him on all those EmArcy recordings, held a concert in Baltimore for Clifford long after Clifford died. Max was still disbelieving so many years later. The concert was supposed to bring closure. But Max was so outrageously emotional that day. He had quite a few eruptions and was very emotional about what had happened so many years earlier. Like everyone, he remained disbelieving.
Fang: "There is one bright side to this." Max: "Yeah? What's that?" The new and improved Erasers would mutilate us before they killed us? Fang: *grins* You looove me. (holds out arms) You love me this much. Max: My shriek of appalled rage would probably be heard in California, or maybe Hawaii.
Sighing, she gave a brief nod. "I was supposed to win. I was supposed to finish you off. They never counted on you winning. And then you didn't kill me. It was awful." "You're welcome," I said, feeling fresh anger ignite. "I'll try not to humiliate you by letting you live next time." (Max II to Max)
You can't come in." Luna Morgan met her daughter's plaintive gaze with a blank one of her own. "What do you mean we can't come in?" "I have a guest, " Ivy said. "Is he naked?" Max asked, wrinkling his nose. "Who?" "Your guest, " Max said. "It's not a man, " Ivy said, rolling her eyes. "Get your mind out of the gutter.
Lily Harper Hart
I just told Max flatly, "I had laser surgery last week to lighten my birthmark," as if it was no big deal. Oh yeah?" he said. Unexpectedly, Max swiveled around, yanked his pants down. The last thing I thought I had wanted to see tonight was Merc walking out the door. I was wrong. It was this stranger's rear end. "Please don't tell me this is one of those stripping telegrams?
20 minutes later: a girl on Himmel Street. She looks up. She speaks in whisper. 'The sky is soft today, Max. The clouds are so soft and sad, and... ' She looks away and crosses her arms. She thinks of her papa going to war and grabs her jacket at each side of her body. 'And it's cold, Max. It's so cold...
I'd think about you and how I didn't want us to end. It's complicated... ' Max still held her, his thumbs stroking the spot on her wrists where her pulse was thundering away. 'Uncomplicate it then. Did you miss me?' 'Of course I did! I've missed you so much, I hurt from it.' Then, and only then, did Max release her but it was only so Neve could wind her arms around his neck because they were kissing. She couldn't say who leaned in first, but all of a sudden there was the familiar but shocking touch of lips on lips.
What kind of life is that? Do you know? Do you? Because I know. I lived that life. For years I lived it. Without you. And I've never been more miserable. I'd rather fight everyday to keep you near me than have you walk away. I'd rather pay that price, Max. I'm not afraid to pay it. I can't believe you're standing here telling me that you are." ~Layla to Max; TORN
Max raised the mallet. He stared into her face and wished he could say he was sorry, that he didn't want to do it. When he slammed the mallet down, with an echoing bang, he heard a high, piercing scream and almost screamed himself, believing for an instant it was her, still somehow alive; then realized it was Rudy. Max was powerfully built, with his, deep water-buffalo chest and Dutch farmer's shoulders. With the first blow he had driven the stake over two-thirds of the way in. He only needed to bring the mallet down once more. The blood that squelched up around the wood was cold and had a sticky, viscous consistency. Max swayed, his head light. His father took his arm. 'Goot, ' Abraham whispered into his ear, his arms around him, squeezing him so tightly his ribs creaked. Max felt a little thrill of pleasure - an automatic reaction to the intense, unmistakable affection of his father's embrace - and was sickened by it. 'To do offense to the house of the human spirit, even after its tenant depart, is no easy thing, I know.' ("Abraham's Boys")
A damnably readable, streamlined, yet deeply researched work. Skipping the ancestors and aftermath of conventional biography, Max gives us the man, his work, and his times-the niceties of which (so complicated, so exquisitely intertwined) Max articulates with, well, Wallace-like lucidity and wit. Above all this is the story of a touching young man who insisted on being something better than simply the smartest person in the room.
But the wild things cried, 'Oh please don't go - we'll eat you up - we love you so!' And Max said, 'No!' The wild things roared their terrible roars and gnashed their terrible teeth and rolled their terrible eyes and showed their terrible claws but Max stepped into his private boat and waved goodbye.
Man, you weigh a freaking ton. What have you been eating, rocks?" * Max: "Why, is your head missing some?" o Chapter 68 p. 214 + Fang carried Max while flying after she had "a stroke or something". Gazzy: "I vill now destroy de Snickuhs bahs!" ter Borcht: "Is dere anysing special about you? Anysing vorth saving?" Fang: "Besides my fashion sense? I play a mean harmonica.
The British Union of Fascists, Oswald Mosley's group, the black shirts, they were banned in Britain in 1940. And Max Mosley's dad, Sir Oswald Mosley, ended up spending three years in World War II, 1940 to 1943, interned in the U.K. as basically an enemy of the state. He spent that time in prison, as did Max Mosley's mother.
Max had to think about these new developments. He hadn't liked getting hit by a rock-his stomach still ached from then rock Judith had thrown-but then again, when his team had used rocks on Alexander, it had caused him to surrender. Now the Bad Guys only had three soldiers left, which would make victory for Max's team more likely. So now it made perfect sense. He was wrong to ban rocks, or even animals. The key was to use all the weapons at one's disposal, but to just make sure you won when you used them.
Max is a marvel to us. He will never have to come out because he will never have been kept in. Even though he has a mom and a dad, they made sure from the beginning to tell him that it didn't have to be a mom and a dad. It could be a mom and a mom, a dad and a dad, just a mom, or just a dad. When Max's early affections became clear, he didn't think twice about them. He doesn't see it as defining him. It is just a part of his definition.
When I saw you on the stairs before, I'd forgotten how beautiful you are, ' he whispered against her skin. 'Spotty, not beautiful, ' she corrected gently, running her finger along his crooked nose. 'Now you, you're beautiful.' 'I even missed your inferiority complex.' Max smiled and shifted against her. 'Not being inferior. It's a point of fact. I'm covered in zits, ' Neve said and she didn't know why she felt the need to share that with Max but then she was glad that she had because he was kissing each one of the angry red bumps along her forehead and chin and cheeks, even though a few of them were starting to suppurate. 'Don't do that, it's completely unhygienic. Kiss my mouth instead.
The sky is blue today, Max, and there is a big long cloud, and it's stretched out, like a rope. At the end of it, the sun is like a yellow hole... " Max, at that moment, knew that only a child could have given him a weather report like that. On the wall, he painted a long, tightly knotted rope with a dripping yellow sun at the end of it, as if you could dive right into it. On the ropy cloud, he drew two figures-a thin girl and a withering Jew-and they were walking, arms balanced, toward that dripping sun.