I've managed to stay alive out here in the Ruin because I'm a realist. I allow the truth to be the truth, no matter how much I might want it to be something else.

It's cloaked in cultural mumbo jumbo, but I assure you that it is very hard science.

Guilt and rage, hatred and fear were pathways to weakness and clumsy choices.

They won the war but lost the peace,

She looked like a character from a video game. One of those improbably busty, impossibly well-armed superchicks who could do acrobatics and hit the kill zone even while firing guns from both hands during a cartwheel. "You look fucking ridiculous," she told herself.

Nix still held Benny's hand, and her grip tightened to an almost crushing force, grinding his hand bones together. It hurt, but Benny would rather have cut that hand off than take it back at that moment. If it would help Nix through this, he'd give her a pair of pliers and a vise so she could do a proper job.

Sometimes there aren't words, Benny knew. Sometimes there are hurts so deep that they exist in a country that has no spoken language, a place where all landscapes are blighted and no sun ever shines. Benny had left his footprints in the dust of that place.

When you have to kill the same terrorist twice in one week, then there's either something wrong with your skills or something wrong with your world. And there's nothing wrong with my skills.

Chong said, "Do yourself a favor, Morg. Next time you're staring at a girl's boobs, look up. You'll be shocked to learn it, but there's going to be a face up there. Nose, mouth, eyes. And behind the eyes is an actual pe

He never did get right all the way again. And every once in a while he'd come down all bitey.

So is that it? Will I have to live the rest of my life like this? Not doing the right thing? Not saying the right words?""That's your choice. You can't change the past. Ah, but the future. . .you own the future." The Greenman smiled. "So, you tell me. . .what choice do you want to make now?

Revenge is an infection of the spirit.

There are moments that define a person's whole life. MOMENTS in which everything they are and everything they may possibly become hinge on a single decision.

I knelt down and hugged the furry monster for a while. If it was too tight, Ghost didn't seem to mind. He wagged his tail and whined a little, sensing the hurt that I felt. Dogs are truly the best of companions. You don't need to explain. They know as much as they need to know, and they are loyal no matter what sins you've committed.

But sometimes shame is a more powerful engine than rage. Like rage, it burns hot; and like rage it tends to consume its own furnace.

...as of this moment there's the police department way, the federal law enforcement way, the military way... and my way. If you want me to function at my best then you're going to have to accept that I'm going to have to make up some of my own rules. I don't know enough about your playbook and, quite frankly, I don't like the way you operate. If I'm not a cop anymore then I'm something else, something new. Okay, then from here on out I'll decide what that is; and that includes building, shaping, and leading my team. My team, my rules.

The economy blows, or don't you read the papers?""Who reads the fucking papers? News is free on the internet.

[Therapist and friend, with a voice like Raul Julia during his Gomez Adam’s days] Rudy studied my face, “I have a two o’clock open on Tuesday.”I sighed, “Yeah, ok. Tuesday at two.”He nodded, pleased. “Bring Starbucks.”“Sure, what do you want?”“My usual. Iced half-caf ristretto quad grade two-pump raspberry two percent no whip light ice with caramel drizzle three-and-a-half-pump white mocha.”“Is any of that actually coffee?”“More or less.”“And you think I’m damaged …

He's a ghost, not a carnival magician.-Benny Imura

Church didn't answer that. Instead he said, "The darkness is all around us. Very few people have the courage to light a candle against it.""I'm not that kind of idea

Tom adjusted his sword and checked his knives and his pistol. If there had been anyone to see his face, they would have seen a man at peace with himself and the world. And if they were wise they would know that such a man was the most dangerous of all opponent - one who fights to preserve love rather than perpetuate hate.

Reporters trade in pain. It sells papers. Everyone knows that.

Everyone carries around his own monsters.---Richard Pryor