In Chicago, you can’t swing a cat without hitting an Irish pub (and angering the cat), but McAnally’s place stands out from the crowd.
Jim ButcherStichwörter: swing-a-cat swinging-a-cat
Oh, I forgot to mention it: My brother is the kind of man whom women stalk. In cooperative packs.
Jim ButcherStichwörter: stalking vampire handsome incubus fangirling
Why?” I asked him tiredly. “What would it have changed? What could you possibly have said that would have made a difference?”
“That I was your brother, Harry,” he said. “That I loved you. That I knew a few things about denying the dark parts of your nature. And that we would get through it.” He put his elblows on his knees and rested his forehead on his hands. “That we’d figure it out. That you weren’t alone.”
Stab.
Twist.
He was right. It was just that simple.
Stichwörter: sweet regret not-alone brotherly-love family-love
If you weren't getting pretty close to crazy right now, would you be talking to yourself right now?
Jim ButcherStichwörter: inspirational
I'd hate to find out that the universe really wasn't conspiring against me. It would jerk the rug out from under my persecution complex.
Jim ButcherThwart: to prevent someone from accomplishing something by means of visiting gratuitous violence upon his smarmy person.
Jim ButcherSometimes the things that are good for you, in the long run, hurt for a little while when you first get to them.
Jim ButcherEveryone stopped to blink at that for a second. I mean, come on. Impaled by a guided frozen turkey missile. Even by the standards of the quasi-immortal creatures of the night, that ain't something you see twice.
"For my next trick," I panted into the startled silence, "anvils.
Stichwörter: humor
But you can't go around changing your definition of right and wrong (or smart and stupid) just because doing the wrong thing happens to be really convenient. Sometimes it isn't easy to be sane, smart, and responsible. Sometimes it sucks. Sucks wang. Camel wang. But that doesn't turn wrong into right or stupid into smart.
Jim ButcherStichwörter: wrong-and-right
I knew I didn't have much of a chance of getting away from that swarm of fae piranha, but it was an infinitely larger chance than I would have if I stayed in the car and burned to death. Hell's bells, what I wouldn't give to have my shield bracelet. Or my old staff. I didn't even have an umbrella.
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