And even, if circumstances required, a contingency plan for his contingency plan's contingency plan.
For no matter what the world, men who deal in headwear are men to be trusted above any other.
After a long silence, Dodge cleared his throat. "I think I speak for all of us when I say, 'Huh?'" -Dodge(obviously)
For most of the universe's life is not all gummy wads and tarty tarts; is a struggle against hardship, unfairness, corruption, abuse, and adversity in all its guises, where even to survive - let alone survive with dignity - is heroic. To soldier through the days in the wake of failure is the courageous act of many.
Most of life is unbearable. It’s unbearable but we bear it
But I killed you,” Alyss said. “Did you?” Red turned to The Cat. “Why wasn’t I informed?
Dodge," Alyss said, putting a hand to the parrallel scars on his cheek, that brand left so long ago by The Cat. She pressed her lips against each of them--four delicate kisses. When she pulled away, he was smiling.
I'm stronger than you are, Redd.
You can't spend so much time in a place and not carry a bit of it inside you.
I think I speak for all of us when I say, "Huh?"
Redd laughed. "The lovely thing about being here," she said, gesturing at the maze, "is that I'm able to immagine your imagination powerless. Ah, if only that were the case on the outside. But enough chitchat. If you're going to die--which you are--I'm sure you'd like to get it over with." --The Looking Glass Wars
Redd's face contorted with a sudden realization. "How could I have been so stupid?" The Cat was trying to decide if this was a rhetorical question when she roared, "It's a construct!" With a dismiissive swing of Redd's arm, Alyss and her army began to shimmer, the billon points of engery that formed them monentarily visible before exploding apart into nothing. Redd scoped the queendom with her imagination's eye. "Where are you, Alyss? Where is my dear little niece?
If I lived by some code, my actions would become predictable. The enemy would take advantage of this and I’d be killed. An honorable death doesn’t exist. Death is death. But it’s funny that survival and revenge require the same thing: no honor codes, no supposed higher principles to aspire to, no mercy
After the temper subsides and one has a moment to calmly reflect, it isn't uncommon for declarations shouted in a fit of rage to strike one as untrue, and because they may have been hurtful to family, friends, lovers, husbands, or wives, one wishes them unsaid.
I'm having the weirdest sense of deja vu right now," said the green caterpiller. Duh!" said the blue caterpiller. "Do you think, just maybe, that's because you predicted this?" Oh, yeah." --The Looking Glass Wars
If wearing this rag will in any way speed the process of gathering my furture soldiers, then I will waer it. But if it doesn't..." Vollrath bowed. "I will subject myself to your temper." You'll have no choice.
A Glass Eye leaped out from behind a parcked smail-trasport, blocked thier way. "Did you drop something?" Dodge asked the assassian. "Caus I think I see you..." he unheathed his sword and swung, decapitating the Glass Eye in one blow, "...head over there.
Alice of Wonderland was stranded on Earth.
Redd stared at the bald head bent down before her. How refreshing Vollrath's sacrifice was. He didn't beg for his life. He didn't embarrasss himself with groveling or sniveling, or appeals to her nomexistent mercy. Thinking that he might still be helpful in finding her Looking Glass Maze, she said, "I'm feeling generous today. You get to live.
He talked to himself because there weren't many people as learned as he, and he liked to talk to learned people.
Hatter!" She would have hugged him if she hadn't thought he'd be bothered by the dislay of affection. Pterry good timing." Dodge smiled. "A litte sooner and you would've been perfect.
I've finished running from you, Redd. It's time for you to run." --Alyss
It had been an annoyingly peacful time in Boarderland, Blister cranky and despressed because he hadn't filled anyone with pus for nearly an enitre lunar cycle.
The only reason I don't kill him," he remember the woman saying, her voice sounding like the scrape of iron against iron, a corrosion of vocal cords, "is because he's not important enough.
Silence is hereby outlawed. Silence breeds independent thought, which in turn breeds dissent.
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