So the day became one of waiting, which was, he knew, a sin: moments were to be experienced; waiting was a sin against both the time that was still to come and the moments one was currently disregarding.
Richard had noticed that events were cowards: they didn’t occur singly, but instead they would run in packs and leap out at him all at once.
I have always felt that violence was the last refuge of the incompetent, and empty threats the final sanctuary of the terminally inept.
You’ve a good heart. Sometimes that’s enough to see you safe wherever you go. But mostly, it’s not.
When angels go bad, Richard, they go worse than anyone. Remember, Lucifer used to be an angel.
The only advice I can give you is what you’re telling yourself. Only, maybe you’re too scared to listen.
I mean, maybe I am crazy. I mean, maybe. But if this is all there is, then I don’t want to be sane.
Can’t make an omelette without killing a few people.