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S Quotes

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“So you have the ownership of the Phoenix Suns, the Los Suns, and whoever - "We don't want to offend the portion of our fan base. We want to appear to be politically correct. We want to appear to be all-inclusive" and so forth. Well, fine and dandy, but what happens when that contributes to the overall deterioration of the culture of this society?”

“So you hook up with strangers?" Liam asked in a hushed whisper as the cashier rang up their order. "Were you with someone last night?" "Yes. His name is Max." She pulled out her phone. "I have a selfie of us together." She held it up for the cashier to see, keeping the screen away from Liam's line of vision. "Oh, he's gorgeous," the cashier said. "He's got the nicest eyes." "Let me see." Liam felt his protective instincts rise. "Who is he? Max who?" "He doesn't have a last name." "Jesus Christ, Daisy," he spluttered. "Does Sanjay know you do this? What about your dad?" "They know all about Max," Daisy said. "In fact, my dad took a picture of us cuddled together in bed the night before he left on his trip, and the cutest one of Max on my pillow. I bought some pajamas but he refused to wear them. He likes to sleep au naturel." Bile rose in Liam's throat. "And your dad took... pictures?" "Photography is his new hobby. He took some great shots when I was giving Max a bath..." "Stop." Liam held up a hand. "Just... I can't. I don't know what's happened to you, but it ends now. We're engaged and that means no more random hookups, no pornographic pictures, and no flashing pictures of strangers in the nude." "Amina doesn't mind. She's my second cousin." Daisy introduced them before turning her phone around. "And this is Max." Liam was a heartbeat away from shutting his eyes when his brain registered the picture of a fluffy white dog on a pink duvet. His tension left him in a rush. "Max is a dog." "He's a Westie. Layla got him for me as an emotional support dog at a bad time in my life." Liam bit back the urge to ask Daisy about a time so bad she'd needed extra love. It was her business, and he could only hope she would tell him when she was ready so he could offer his support. "That wasn't funny." "Amina and I were amused." "I heard you were engaged." Amina's gaze flicked to Liam and she blushed. "He's almost as cute as Max.”

“So you intend to go through life never loving anyone? Just … things?” “No. I’m looking for something more.” “More than love?” “Yes.” “Is it not arrogant to think you deserve more, Khalid Ibn al-Rashid?” “Is it so arrogant to want something that doesn’t change with the wind? That doesn’t crumble at the first sign of adversity?” “You want something that doesn’t exist. A figment of your imagination.” “No. I want someone who sees beneath the surface-someone who completes the balance. An equal.” “And how will you know when you’ve found this elusive someone?” Shahrzad retorted. “I suspect she will be like air. Like knowing how to breathe.”

“So you just kill people for power." "As do you." "How dare you-" He laughs, loud. "You're free to lie to yourself, if it makes you feel better." "I am not lying-" "Why did it take you so long to break your connection with Jenkins?" My mouth freezes in place. "Why didn't you fight back right away? Why did you allow him to touch for as long as he did?" My hands have begun to shake and I grip them, hard. "You don't know anything about me." "And yet you claim to know me so well." I clench my jaw, not trusting myself to speak. "At least I'm honest," he adds. "You just agreed you're a liar!" He raises his eyebrows. "At least I'm honest about being a liar.”

“So, you know about fairies? Tell me about them. “They are all around us, they are where plants are, and some are also where plants are not. They heal and beautify and sow seeds, they are the energy behind your beloved flowers, they pollinate, cultivate and talk to the stones. They hold great knowledge of magic, plants and earth magic and manifestation. They are happy joyful creatures, if it weren’t for them, we plants would not exist, and without plants you would not be able to exist. You see, it is all a symbiotic relationship, one entity helps the other who helps the other.” – Gum Trees”

“So you know how things stand. Now forget what they think of you. Be satisfied if you can live the rest of your life, however short, as your nature demands. Focus on that, and don't let anything distract you. You've wandered all over and finally realized that you never found what you were after: how to live. Not in syllogisms, not in money, or fame, or self-indulgence. Nowhere.”

“So, you know that group up there in the Planetarium then?’ The pistol continued. ‘Hey they say it’s a small world.’ ‘Are they alright?’ asked Semilla darting forward. ‘Yeah, they’re all fine, apart from the President he’s rather dead actually, oh and one of the lampposts I’m afraid he copped it too.’ Baz’s beacon flickered with emotion. ‘Which one?’ he asked. ‘There was only one President as far as I know,’ said the pistol indifferently.”

“So you'll let Lucien take you on hunts and-' 'Lucien,' I interrupted quietly but not softly, 'doesn't pretend to be anything what he is.' 'What's that supposed to mean?' he growled, but his claws stayed retracted, even as he clenched his hands into fists at his sides. I was definitely walking a dangerous line, but I didn't care. Even if he'd offered me sanctuary. I didn't have to fall at his feet. 'It means,' I said with that same cold quiet, 'That I don't know you. I don't know who you are, or what you really are, or what you want.' 'It means you don't trust me.' 'How can I trust a faerie? Don't you delight in killing and tricking us?' His snarl set the flames of the candles guttering. 'You aren't what I had in mind for a human- believe me.' I could almost feel the wound deep in my chest as it ripped open and all those awful, silent words came pouring out. Illiterate, ignorant, unremarkable, proud, cold- all spoken from Nesta's mouth, all echoing in my head with her sneering voice. I pinched my lips together. He winced and lifted a hand slightly, as if about to reach for me. 'Feyre,' he began- softly enough that I just shook my head and left the room. He didn't stop me. But that afternoon, when I went to retrieve my crumpled list from the wastebasket, it was gone. And my pile of books had been disturbed- the titles out of order.”

“So, you love the west," Tucker said. "Sure do." "Then it's a stupid love you got." "How you figure?" I asked. "'Cause the west don't love you back, son," Tucker said. "You're just whacking off in the sand. Sure, it feels all right, but you'll end up with nothing to show for it and just having to do it again. Plus, it ties up a perfectly good hand that you might be using for somethin' else.”

“So you make this deal with the gods. You do these dances and they'll send rain and good crops and the whole works? And nothing bad will ever happen. Right.' Prayer had always struck me as more or less a glorified attempt at a business transaction. A rain dance even more so. I thought I might finally have offended Loyd past the point of no return, like stealing the lobster from frozen foods that time, to get myself fired. But Loyd was just thinking. After a minute he said, 'No, it's not like that. It's not making a deal, bad things can still happen, but you want to try not to cause them to happen. It has to do with keeping things in balance.' In balance.' Really, it's like the spirits have made a deal with us.' And what is the deal?' I asked. We're on our own. The spirits have been good enough to let us live here and use the utilities, and we're saying: We know how nice you're being. We appreciate the rain, we appreciate the sun, we appreciate the deer we took. Sorry if we messed up anything. You've gone to a lot of trouble, and we'll try to be good guests.' Like a note you'd send somebody after you stayed in their house?' Exactly like that. 'Thanks for letting me sleep on your couch. I took some beer out of the refrigerator, and I broke a coffee cup. Sorry, I hope it wasn't your favorite one.”

“So, you may ask, what is the use of studying the world of imagination where anything is possible and anything can be assumed, where there are no rights or wrongs and all arguments are equally good? One of the most obvious uses, I think, is its encouragement of tolerance. In the imagination our own beliefs are also only possibilities, but we can also see the possibilities in the beliefs of others. Bigots and fanatics seldom have any use for the arts, because they're so preoccupied with their beliefs and actions that they can't see them as also possibilities. It's possible to go to the other extreme, to be a dilettante so bemused by possibilities that one has no convictions or power to act at all. But such people are much less common than bigots, and in our world much less dangerous.”

“So, you mean to tell me,' Emerie muttered from the side of her mouth as they stood in the training ring two days later, 'that you got into a fight with your family, disappeared for a week with Cassian, and came back able to use an actual sword, but I'm supposed to believe you when you say nothing happened?' ... 'That's exactly what I'm telling you.' 'Tell me you at least had a week's worth of sex,' Emerie muttered. Nesta choked on a laugh as Cassian stiffened across the ring- but he didn't turn. 'There might have been some.”