He read disappointment at his response and wondered if she realized that she expected a certain amount of effusive sympathy from the people she told. Rejecting that sympathy made her feel strong, comp...
Good luck, then. Thank you, sir. You, too. We’ll need it. We’re short a gunnery sergeant. When Torin lifted a brow, High Tekamal Louden grinned. Yes, well, that sounded a lot less lame in my head.
Do we expect a fight, Gunnery Sergeant? We always expect a fight, Private Kichar. We’re Marines; it’s what we do.
Claire The Elysian Fields Guest House? Why didn't he just call it the Vestibule to Hell?
Although the secrets governments kept were generally about money wasted on dumbass ideas while social services held bake sales.
We are using these to follow the Others home. We are maybe using these to end the war. We are maybe using these to die in a new and exciting way.
Safe from what? she'd asked.And under her touch, Kovar's kigh had answered, Change.
Belief is not a required component of ability.
They’re going to blame the sorcerer for both those things as well as the hike in Calgary’s transit fares, middle-aged women wearing jeans that barely cover their asses, and SciFi canceling The Dresden...
Wishing she could spare a mouthful of water, she looked down at the body. We will not forget. We will not fail you.
We’ve only been here a few hours, and we spent most of that time playing toy soldiers. How did the sergeant find that stuff out so fast? Hollice shrugged. It’s a gift. Let’s just hope he never uses it...
The world tilted slightly sideways. 'I think I need to sit down.' The floor seemed like the best option. It was close and he'd already proved that he could hit it. His legs folded.
The Corps has always believed that the most powerful weapon its people possesses is between their ears.
That was opportunity knocking. She shoved the last empty coffee pouch into her pack. You didn’t answer, so it’s buggered off to find someone who appreciates it.
She'd followed him from the door to the condo into the tiny office even though he'd requested that she wait a minute in the living room. If he was going back to close his coffin, she had to see it.
Once a man began thinking with his body, intelligent decisions came few and far between.
Old ladies in the Gale family drove like they owned the roads. And the other drivers. And the local police department. And the laws of physics.
This situation was tailor-made for that last lesson in Combat Morale, If you’re going to die anyway, see to it that your people die with dry underwear and a smile.
Arranging to be emotionally tortured for four years by basketball loving escapees from the Silmarillion.
You lot are luckier than you deserve to be, and if you ever again put me in the position where I’ve got to kiss up to an officer—any officer—to save your sorry butts, I am going to make your lives so...