Outburst Quotes

Authors: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
Categories: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
Uphill? There's nothing up the hill, " Colly said, trying desperately to work out where this conversation was going. "As a matter of fact, there is. There's a bluff about twelve meters high, with a river running below it. The water's deep, so it'll be quite safe for you to jump." In his brief glimpse of the river, Halt had noticed that the fast-flowing water cut under the bluff in a sharp curve. That should mean that the bottom had been scoured out over the years. A thought struck him. "You can swim, I assume?" "Yes. I can swim, " Colly said. "But I'm going jumping off some bluff just because you say to!" "No, no. Of course not. That'd be asking far too much of you. You'll jump off because if you don't, I'll shoot you. It'll be the same effect, really. If I have to shoot you, you'll fall off. But I thought I'd give you a chance to survive." Halt paused, then added, "Oh, and if you decide to run downhill, I'll also shoot you with an arrow. Uphill and off is really your only chance of survival." "You can't be serious!" Colly said. "Do you really-" But he got no further. Halt leaned forward, putting a hand up to stop the outburst. "Colly, take a good, long look into my eyes and tell me if you see anything, anything at all, that says I'm not deadly serious." His eyes were deep brown, almost black. They were steady and unwavering and there was no sign of anything there but utter determination. Colly looked at them and after a few second, his eyes dropped away. halt nodded as the other man's gaze slid away from his. "Good. Now we've got that settled, you should try to get some sleep. You have a big day ahead of you tomorrow.

John Flanagan
All right, then, ' she snapped, 'do as you please! Perhaps afterward we could manage a coherent discussion.' Twisting beneath him, she flopped onto her stomach. Christopher went still. After a long hesitation, she heard him ask in a far more normal voice, 'What are you doing?' 'I'm making it easier for you, ' came her defiant reply. 'Go on, start ravishing.' Another silence. Then, 'Why are you facing downward?' 'Because that's how it's done.' Beatrix twisted to look at him over her shoulder. A twinge of uncertainty caused her to ask, 'Isn't it?' His face was blank. 'Has no one ever told you?' 'No, but I've read about it.' Christopher rolled off her, relieving her of his weight. He wore an odd expression as he asked, 'From what books?' 'Veterinary manuals. And of course, I've observed the squirrels in springtime, and farm animals and-' She was interrupted as Christopher cleared his throat loudly, and again. Darting a confused glance at him, she realized that he was trying to choke back amusement. Beatrix began to feel indignant. Her first time in a bed with a man, and he was laughing. 'Look here, ' she said in a businesslike manner, 'I've read about the mating habits of over two dozen species, and with the exception of snails, whose genitalia is on their necks, they all-' She broke off and frowned. 'Why are you laughing at me? Christopher had collapsed, overcome with hilarity. As he lifted his head and saw her affronted expression, he struggled manfully with another outburst. 'Beatrix. I'm... I'm not laughing at you.' 'You are!' 'No I'm not. It's just... ' He swiped a tear from the corner of his eye, and a few more chuckles escaped. 'Squirrels... ' 'Well, it may be humorous to you, but it's a very serious matter to the squirrels.

Lisa Kleypas
You know the story.' The Nalnom rotated his hand in the air as if she should recall it. 'I don't. I've never heard the story.' Joshlon summarized it for her. 'Prometheus was turned into a dragon by his angry lover, Naradite. She refused to turn him back into his manly form. He became the first fire-breathing dragon-Naga the Terrible.' Eena dropped her lower jaw. 'What?' 'Naradite turned Prometheus into a dragon, ' Joshlon repeated. 'Naga.' 'And Prometheus is Edgar's father?' She was sure the surrounding stares were the result of her virtually shouting out the question. Joshlon answered with some hesitance in his voice. 'I don't know who Edgar is, but Edgarmetheus was supposedly the son of Prometheus, the illegitimate child of him and his lover, Naradite.' 'Oh. My. Gosh!' Eena exclaimed. 'Naga is Edgar's father!' Joshlon's lip curled. He didn't look like he was following her emotional outburst. 'Sha Eena, are you trying to tell me that this is all for real? And Naga is the undefeatable enemy you're fighting?' Her hazel eyes focused on him instantly. 'Oh, no, no, not Naga! Out of all the immortals, he's the nice one!' Joshlon looked confused. 'Naga the Terrible is the nice one?' 'Yes, ' Eena nodded assuredly. 'Edgar is the... ' She halted mid-sentence. Joshlon had stopped moving. In fact, all the surrounding Nalnoms were frozen in place, skeptical expressions stuck on their faces. Her eyes fell closed when she heard the disgruntled voice behind her. 'I'm the what?' he grumbled lowly. 'I'd really love to hear the end of that sentence, Amora.

Richelle E. Goodrich
Alec isn't happy, ' said Magnus, as if she hadn't spoken. 'Of course he isn't, ' Isabelle snapped. 'Jace-' 'Jace, ' said Magnus, and his hands made fists at his sides. Isabelle stared at him. She had always thought that he didn't mind Jace; liked him, even, once the question of Alec's affections had been settled. Out loud, she said: 'I thought you were friends.' 'It's not that, ' said Magnus. 'There are some people - people the universe seems to have singled out for special destinies. Special favors and special torments. God knows we're all drawn toward what's beautiful and broken; I have been, but some people cannot be fixed. Or if they can be, it's only by love and sacrifice so great it destroys the giver.' Isabelle shook her head slowly. 'You've lost me. Jace is our brother, but for Alec - he's Jace's parabatai too -' 'I know about parabatai, ' said Magnus, his voice rising in pitch. 'I've known parabatai so close they were almost the same person; do you know what happens, when one of them dies, to the one that's left-' 'Stop it!' Isabelle clapped her hands over her ears, then lowered them slowly. 'How dare you, Magnus Bane, ' she said. 'How dare you make this worse than it is -' 'Isabelle.' Magnus' hands loosened; he looked a little wide-eyed, as if his outburst had startled even him. 'I am sorry. I forget, sometimes... that with all your self-control and strength, you possess the same vulnerability that Alec does.' 'There is nothing weak about Alec, ' said Isabelle. 'No, ' said Magnus. 'To love as you choose, that takes strength. The thing is, I wanted you here for him. There are things I can't do for him, can't give him... ' For a moment Magnus looked oddly vulnerable. 'You have known Jace as long as he has. You can give him understanding I can't. And he loves you.' 'Of course he loves me. I'm his sister.' 'Blood isn't love, ' said Magnus, and his voice was bitter. 'Just ask Clary.

Cassandra Clare
DAMNATION!' No device of the printer's art, not even capital letters, can indicate the intensity of that shriek of rage. Emerson is known to his Egyptian workers by the admiring sobriquet of Father of Curses. The volume as well as the content of his remarks earned him the title; but this shout was extraordinary even by Emerson's standards, so much so that the cat Bastet, who had become more or less accustomed to him, started violently, and fell with a splash into the bathtub. The scene that followed is best not described in detail. My efforts to rescue the thrashing feline were met with hysterical resistance; water surged over the edge of the tub and onto the floor; Emerson rushed to the rescue; Bastet emerged in one mighty leap, like a whale broaching, and fled - cursing, spitting, and streaming water. She and Emerson met in the doorway of the bathroom. The ensuing silence was broken by the quavering voice of the safragi, the servant on duty outside our room, inquiring if we required his assistance. Emerson, seated on the floor in a puddle of soapy water, took a long breath. Two of the buttons popped off his shirt and splashed into the water. In a voice of exquisite calm he reassured the servant, and then transferred his bulging stare to me. I trust you are not injured, Peabody. Those scratches... ' The bleeding has almost stopped, Emerson. It was not Bastet's fault.' It was mine, I suppose, ' Emerson said mildly. Now, my dear, I did not say that. Are you going to get up from the floor?' No, ' said Emerson. He was still holding the newspaper. Slowly and deliberately he separated the soggy pages, searching for the item that had occasioned his outburst. In the silence I heard Bastet, who had retreated under the bed, carrying on a mumbling, profane monologue. (If you ask how I knew it was profane, I presume you have never owned a cat.)

Elizabeth Peters
The Restoration did not so much restore as replace. In restoring the monarchy with King Charles II, it replaced Cromwell's Commonwealth and its Puritan ethos with an almost powerless monarch whose tastes had been formed in France. It replaced the power of the monarchy with the power of a parliamentary system - which was to develop into the two parties, Whigs and Tories - with most of the executive power in the hands of the Prime Minister. Both parties benefited from a system which encouraged social stability rather than opposition. Above all, in systems of thought, the Restoration replaced the probing, exploring, risk-taking intellectual values of the Renaissance. It relied on reason and on facts rather than on speculation. So, in the decades between 1660 and 1700, the basis was set for the growth of a new kind of society. This society was Protestant (apart from the brief reign of the Catholic King James II, 1685-88), middle class, and unthreatened by any repetition of the huge and traumatic upheavals of the first part of the seventeenth century. It is symptomatic that the overthrow of James II in 1688 was called The 'Glorious' or 'Bloodless' Revolution. The 'fever in the blood' which the Renaissance had allowed was now to be contained, subject to reason, and kept under control. With only the brief outburst of Jacobin revolutionary sentiment at the time of the Romantic poets, this was to be the political context in the United Kingdom for two centuries or more. In this context, the concentration of society was on commerce, on respectability, and on institutions. The 'genius of the nation' led to the founding of the Royal Society in 1662 - 'for the improving of Natural Knowledge'. The Royal Society represents the trend towards the institutionalisation of scientific investigation and research in this period. The other highly significant institution, one which was to have considerably more importance in the future, was the Bank of England, founded in 1694.

Ronald Carter
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