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A Quotes

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All A Quotes

“Are you busy?" I ask. "I'm working on a paper. Recall? The phone conversation we had fifteen minutes ago?" I glance up at a clock in the hall, and then back at his smart-ass mouth. "It was twenty minutes ago." "I need coffee," he says, and why is he being such an adorable dick, still smiling at me like that? "Want to walk up to Dunkin' Donuts?" "What about Millie?" I say. "What about her?" "Does she want any?" "Should we call her and ask?" "Isn't she upstairs?" "How hard did you hit your head last night?”

“Are you calling me weak?' 'No.' Mira squeezes my hand. 'Just... fragile.' 'That's not any better.' Dragons don't bond fragile women. They incinerate them. 'So she's small.' Mom scans me up and down, taking in the generous fit of the cram belted tunic and pants I selected this morning for my potential execution. I snort. 'Are we just listing my faults now?' 'I never said it was a fault.' Mom turns to my sister. 'Mira, Violet deals with more pain before lunch than you do in an entire week. If any of my children is capable of surviving the Rider's Quadrant, it's her.”

“Are you capable of being part of a small group that can change the world? Most people could never rise to the challenge. They are the Ignavi – those who will follow any banner placed in front of them – and the Last Men – those who survive by placing petty self-interest above all other things and know how to ensure they will be the last men standing. Their names will never be remembered. You don’t have to be a member of the Illuminati to make a difference. The changing of the world belongs to everyone. Leaders are self-defining, self-creating, self-starting. They take an idea and they run with it. They inspire others. They don’t need anyone else’s approval, assistance or permission. Above all, they lead. Can you?”

“Are you challenging me, little miss? Me, the Cuisinier Noir called Monarch?" "Hey, Tadokoro. Need any help?" "Nope! I'll be fine." "Whoa, now! What on earth are you two thinking?!" "Okay, you're on, babe. I'll be nice and try your food. But if I decide it ain't up to snuff... ... then both you and Mr. Mad-Skillz Kid will be my slaves forever! Don't worry. I'll make sure to make real good use of you in my own personal kingdom!" "Those conditions sound fine to me." "Miss! This is crazy! You don't have to do this!" "Mr. Head Chef? Could you promise me one thing, please? If the worst happens and I can't win this challenge... Well, er... we're all stuck doing what he says for a long time, aren't we?" "I told you this is crazy!" "But even if that does happen... could you please not close this inn? Even if disaster strikes and things aren't going how you'd like... ... you need to keep your doors open, no matter what. Because if you close down... ... then all the customers who love your inn will be saved.”

“Are you comfortable and willing to be of service to others, but find it difficult to receive the same in return? Why are people so quick to resist receiving, even when they need the help? Your ability to receive not only opens the space for great things to enter your life, but it returns a gift of grace to the giver.”

“Are you coming down with something?" Mom asks. And just for the tiniest of seconds, I wonder what would happen if I told them the truth. That school is nothing like I imagined it would be. That I'm not the girl in the catalog at all. I'm not a Happy College Student. I don't know who I am. Or maybe I do know who I am and I just don't want to be her anymore.”

“Are you conceding?' he says, his mouth falling open with mock surprise. 'Seems like that serum did you some good after all...' I shove him as hard as I can. 'Take that back. Take it back now.' 'Okay, okay!' He puts up his hands. 'It's just... I'm not very nice either, you know. That's why I like you so- ' 'Out!' I shout, pointing at the door.”

“Are you confused about being human? The reason is because you are much more than what the mind wants you to think or believe, and you know this innately. Being does not mean that we will not become ill. It does not imply that this human form will not encounter difficulty and pain. Being does not suggest that we will receive a paradise that the mind thinks we lost and are so desperate to find. Being is simply that; it is.”

“Are you conscious of the restful influence which the stars exert? To me they are the most soothing things in Nature. I am proud to say that I don't know the name of one of them. The glamour and romance would pass away from them if they were all classified and ticketed in one's brain. But when a man is hot and flurried, and full of his own little ruffled dignities and infinitesimal misfortunes, then a star bath is the finest thing in the world.”

“Are you considering becoming a creative person? Too late, you already are one. To even call somebody "a creative person" is almost laughably redundant; creativity is the hallmark of our species. We have the sense for it; we have the curiosity for it; we have the opposable thumbs for it; we have the rhythm for it; we have the language and the excitement and the innate connection to divinity for it. If you're alive, you're a creative person. You and I and everyone you know are descended from tens of thousands of years of makers. Decorators, tinkerers, storytellers, dancers, explorers, fiddlers, drummers, builders, growers, problem-solvers, and embellishers--these are our common ancestors.”

“Are you cooking the peppers?" she asked. "I was going to slice them over the top with the cheese," Leo said. "Too much?" "Nope." Thea let him handle the jalapeños while she shaved off a few thin slices of cheese, a mild cheddar the cooks kept on hand for baking into cornbread or slicing onto burgers at staff meal. It was just the sort of thing she would have been moved to eat if she'd been by herself, except she would have just toasted it on bread or eaten it cold on crackers, meditating on the ring of toothmarks she left in each slice as she chewed. Leo swirled his pan, tilting it to let the last soft rivulets of egg hit the hot pan, and then wordlessly reached one hand back toward her. Thea set the sliced cheese in his palm, realizing as she did that she was a little more buzzed than she'd intended to be, because she placed the cheddar on Leo's warm skin as delicately as if it were a piece of jewelry, a hollowed, painted eggshell. He laid the cheese over the eggs, then scattered a thick layer of chorizo coins over the cheese, and finally a handful of fresh sliced jalapeño. "And we're done," Leo said. He paused, looking around frantically until Thea realized that he had forgotten where the plates were kept. She reached beneath the prep counter and handed him two. "Thanks," he said. He ran a spatula down the center of the eggs and lifted a golden orange pillow onto each plate, dropping yet more paprika-scented oil onto the stove and the counter.”