Friendship isn't a science mudboy. Just do what you think is right.
Why no aggressive action?" Foaly squirmed in a harness built for two-legged creatures. "Oh yes, why no aggressive action? How I long for aggressive action." "I live for aggressive action!" thundered Orion squeakily which was unusual. "Oh, how I pray that dragon will turn 'round that I may smite it." "Smite it with what?" wandered Foaly "Your secret birthmark?" "Don't you mock my birthmark, which I may or may not have.
Caballine likes me to be masterful. She calls me her stallion.
You display inordinate pride for someone who has completed a task which could have been performed by a lesser primate in a shorter time.
Everything rests on the poisoned wine. If it were just the queen, I could force it down her gullet, but Declan Broekhart would run me through with that damned ceremonial sword, and if his wife's stares were daggers, he'd be dead already.
Victor Vigny: It is like the old fairy tale. The boy saves the princess; they fall in love. He invents a flying machine - along with his dashing teacher, of course. They get married and name thier firstborn after the aforementioned dashing teacher. Conor: I don't recall that fairy tale from the nursery. Victor Vigny: Trust me, It's a classic.
Shut up, Julius! I mean, quiet a moment, Commander.
If Koboi defeats and presumably murders us both then you can consider the debt null and void.
Foaly: Anyone see you come in here? Holly: The FBI, CIA, NSA, DEA, MI6. Oh, and the EIB. Foaly: The EIB? Holly: (smirking) Everyone in the building.
Listen to me, convict. I have not traveled all this way to listen to your war stories. So shut your trap before I shut it for you. Commander Julius Root
Certainly, Doctor. Let's talk about your chair. Victorian?
The problem is that I know the textbook answers to any question you care to ask.
Who are you?" he asked. I am the future queen of this world, at the very least. You may refer to me as Mistress Koboi for the next five minutes. After that you may refer to me as Aaaaarrrrgh, hold your throat, die screaming, and so on.
I bet," said Mulch, "that you would set the world on fire just to watch it burn." Opal tapped the suggestion into a small electronic notepad on her pocket computer. Thanks for that. Now, tell me everything.
That's the last order I'll ever give you Captain. Don't you dare ignore it.
I can't imagine what they're planning. But I can tell you two things. We won't like it, and it won't be legal.
I am unarmed. But Butler here, my ...ah...butler, has a Sig Saucer in his shoulder holster, two shrike-throwing knives in his boots, aderringer two-shot up his sleeve, garrotte wire in his watch, and three stun greanades concealed in variouse pockets. Anything else, Butler?
If you were me, then I'd be you, and if I were you, then I'd hide somewhere far away.
...Hardly. A ragged apron does not a waiter make.
What's that supposed to mean? A wolf's head on a stick. Big wolf barbecue tonight? Bring your own wolf?
That was all he said, except for "Aaaeerrgghhh." Which is not really a word. But the reason that he screamed "Aaaeerrgghhh" was that Franco had bitten him savegly on the wrist.
Doobie always wanted to see the badge. It was shiny, and he was eight.
I'm the crazy girly captain, Remember?
I'm LEP. A captain. No rent-a-cop gnome is going to stand in the way of my orders.
Listen to me, goblin. You're stupid, let's accept that and move on.
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