Though I often run out of courage and good sense, stubbornness keeps me going.
Nothing is hidden, nothing is ever lost, nothing is ever forgotten. That's always been part of my problem.
Nothing is ever really lost. The memories of good friends and good times are always there, never more than a thought away. In a sense, they never really stopped happening. Every moment you ever treasured, every friend you ever valued is still there, separated from us only by time; the past is still happening and always will be. It's only we who have moved on.
There are any number of magical creatures, mostly female, whose singing can bring about horror and death. Sirens, undines, banshees, Bananarama tribute bands...
Keep your mind too open, and you never know what might walk in.
Sometimes humour is all we have to say the things that can't be said.
There has been peace. There will be peace again. But right now, we have work to do.
Because nothing makes love and life matter more than the knowledge that some day it must end.
It's tucked away in a quiet corner, shadowed and obscured, no part of the Nightside's usual bright gaudy neon noir. It doesn't advertise and it doesn't care if you habitually pass by on the other side. It's just there for when you need it. Dedicated to the patron saint of lost causes, St. Jude's is an old old place... St. Jude's isn't a place for comfort for frills and fancies and the trappings of religion. just a place where you can talk to your god and sometimes get an answer.
If you don't trust anyone, they can't let you down.
Wait. You've got principles? We'll have to update your file.
Revenge is simply justice with teeth.
God does so love to make a man break a promise.
You know, sometimes I swear the whole universe runs on irony.
Future is like an asshole. Everybody has one.---John Taylor (Nightside Series)
What is the world coming to, when you can't even trust a rogue vicar and her demon lover?
When you are tired of life, come to Haven. And someone will kill you.
Who ... what are they?" "My pride and glory," Alex said fondly. "Betty and Lucy Coltrane. Best damned bouncers in the business. Though of course I'd never tell them that. Fiercer than pit bulls and cheaper to run. Married to each other. They had a dog once, but they ate it.
While the cat's away, you may find the rats getting damned uppity.
After all, you’re only an immortal until someone manages to kill you. After that, you were just long-lived.
The harsh, unyielding reality of having to compromise your ideals bit by bit, day by day, just to achieve a few little victories in the face of the world’s malice, or indifference. Until sometimes you wonder if there’s nothing left of you but the shell of the man you intended to be, just going through the motions because you’ve nothing better to do.
We are in the dark places of the earth," said Madman. "Where all the ancient and most dangerous secrets are kept. There are Old Things down here, sleeping all around us, in the earth and in the living rock, and in the spaces between spaces. Keep your voices down. Some of these old creatures sleep but lightly, and even their dreams can have force and substance in our limited world. We have come among forgotten gods and sleeping devils, from the days before the world settled down and declared itself sane.
Are you sure this is a good idea?' whispered the unicorn. 'No,' said Rupert. 'But it's our best chance to find a dragon.' 'Frankly, that doesn't strike me as such a hot idea either,' muttered the unicorn.
Alexandra was tall and blond, with a balcony you could do Shakespeare from.
The cream-tiled walls were spattered here and there with old dried bloodstains, deep gouges that might have been clawmarks, and all kinds of graffiti. As usual, someone had spelt Cthulhu wrongly.
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