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Quote by Denis Brian

“Pulitzer justified his angry outbursts by saying that all men who amounted to anything, including Napoleon, were ill tempered and that a good temper 'was entirely incompatible with greatness in any line.”

Quote by Denis Brian

Book:Pulitzer: A Life
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Pulitzer: A Life

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Denis Brian

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“After centuries of silence, someone or something was lying outside on the stone step . . . “Are you deaf?” Death asked arriving abruptly with screams and cries and a fetid smell of rotting matter filling the room. “Why are you here?” the Old Crone asked, knowing the answer before she asked the question. “Go away.” “When someone knocks you’re supposed to open the door!” Death said, coughing as though she had swallowed a lot of water. “What are you doing here?” the Old Crone asked again “and why are you amorphous? Show yourself! I don’t like it when you look like nothing at all.” “Open the door!” Death rasped, appearing as a drowned cat coughing up minnows and river detritus. “Our future depends upon it!”

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“You survived,” Death said, appearing again as Cat. “They were vicious. If they’d –” “– Don’t go there.” “You’ve always known really bad people are following you,” Death said, softening what she was going to say. “But did you know I’ve been following you too?” “Why?” Word asked, not getting it. “Simple,” Cat said. “If I keep you alive many others won’t die.”

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“She looked at Word. “You asked about X-it. He’s sleeping. There are no intruders in his consciousness. I’ve done a sweep. Several installations, their A-I and Super-Recognizers have all been rendered inoperable, but others will quickly pick up the slack. Some will malfunction. All are on high alert. They know contact has been made, that you are still alive, and a global search has begun. No A-I or human Super-Recognizer can penetrate the room that you were in and in which X-it is now sleeping. But he cannot come out of the room until we are ready to return to the second in time when Death saved you.”

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“I thought how artists, writers, and thinkers who are genuinely and strongly connected to their time, place, and peoples always sense disasters before they befall. They are not magicians with crystal balls. They simply use their other well-trained senses, beyond the five senses, to feel the upcoming earthquake, to sense the eruption of the upcoming volcanos, the approaching hurricanes. They signal what they sense in their works, while many people don’t take their warnings seriously.”

InspirationalWritingWisdomFutureInstinctWritersForetelling The FutureForeseen Consequences
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“Can I really read my future?" "Easily. When you buy a train ticket, you are not only reading your future, you are forming it. Your ticket states the day of your departure. The number of your carriage. Your seat. That means that in the most plausible future you will appear at the train station, approach the carriage that is mentioned on your ticket..." "Do you like making fun of me?" Sasha herself was shocked at the helplessness in her voice. Kozhenikov stopped smiling. "Forgive me. I didn't mean to offend you. This question is too serious to discuss without irony.”

ReadingFutureTrainPossibilitiesTicketForetelling The Future
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“You’re a pirate?” Obviously. Still, hard to believe. He pressed forward, forcing on her a series of blows meant to test her strength and will. She parried and blocked his every move with an aptitude that amazed. “Aye. A pirate, and captain of the Sea Sprite,” she boasted, a wry smile upon her full lips. Indeed, she appeared very much a pirate in her men’s garb—a threadbare, brown suit with overly long sleeves she’d had to roll up. Her ebony hair had been pulled back in a queue and was half hidden beneath a rumpled tricorn. Also, like her men, was her look of desperation and the grim cast to her countenance that bespoke of a hard existence. “We offered you quarter,” she said as she evaded his thrust with ease. “Why didn’t you surrender? You had to know we outnumbered you.” He didn’t answer. In all honesty, he’d thought they could defeat the pirates, if not with cannon fire, then with skill. After hearing of all the pirate attacks of late, they’d hired on additional hands, men who could fight. If it hadn’t been for the damn illness… “It’s not too late. You can save what’s left of your crew. Surrender now, Captain Glanville, and we’ll see that your men are ransomed back.” A wicked gleam brightened her eyes as if victory would soon be hers. He should do as she asked. It would be the sensible thing, but pride kept him from saying the words. Not yet. He still had another opponent to defeat, and so far she hadn’t been an easy one to overcome. Despite his steady attack, she kept her muscles relaxed, her balance sure. Her attention followed his movements no matter how small, adjusting her stance, looking for weaknesses. “How do you know I’m Captain Glanville?” When work was at hand, he didn’t dress any differently than his men. “I know much about you.” Stepping clear of two men battling to their left, she blocked his sword with her own and lunged with her dagger. He jumped from the blade, avoiding injury by the barest inch. This one relied on speed and accuracy rather than power. Smart woman. “What do you want from us?” he asked, launching an attack of his own, this time with so much force and speed, she had no choice but to retreat until her back came up against the railing. “We only just left London four days ago. Our cargo is mainly iron and ale.” Her gaze sharpened even as her expression became strained. His assault was wearing her down. “I want the Ruby Cross.” How the hell did she know he had the cross? And did she believe he’d simply hand it over? Hand over a priceless antiquity of the Knights Templar? Absurd. He swung his sword all the harder. The clang of steel rang through the air. Her reactions slowed, and her arms trembled. He made a final cut, putting all his strength behind the blow, and knocked her sword from her hand. Triumph surged through his veins. She attempted to slash out with her dagger. He grabbed her arm before her blade could reach him and hauled her close, their faces nose to nose. “You’ll never take the cross from me,” he vowed as he towered over her, his grip strong. The point of a sword touched his back. Thomas tensed, he swore beneath his breath, self-disgust heavy in his chest. The distraction of this one woman had sealed his fate. Bloody hell.”

Historical RomancePiratesPirates Romance
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