It's one of the things that makes us different than they are, Harry. The blood on their hands does not make it right to bloody my own. My choices are measured against my own soul. Not against the stains on theirs.
Jim ButcherMots clés choices harry-dresden michael-carpenter
There was a roar from the shadow-tiger mask around the Harley, and Murphy swept up alongside the boat. I leapt down onto the back of the bike in a single smooth motion, which I felt was cool, and landed with too much of my weight on my genitals, which I felt was not.
Jim ButcherMots clés dresden-files
The water near me stirred and then a Sharkface rose up out of it as if on an elevator, slow, his mouth tilted up into a small smile. He stood there on the water perhaps five feet away from me. His eyeless face looked smug.
"Warden," he said.
"Asshat," I replied.
Mots clés dresden-files
Gandalf never had this kind of problem.
Jim ButcherI brought the Beetle to life with a roar. Well. Not really a roar. A Volkswagen Bug doesn't roar. But it sort of growled...
Jim ButcherIt doesn't make you a monster to want, she said, her voice very gentle. It's what you do with it that matters.
Jim ButcherMots clés truth horror monsters harry-dresden
I was doing the new Summer Lady a favor, running down a rogue
storm sylph. Got to go all over the place in those tornado-chaser
geekmobiles. You should have seen the look on the driver's face when he
realized that the tornado was chasing us.
The fire of my tribulations had not simply been pain to be endured. It had been an agent of transformation. After all that I'd been through, I'd changed. Not for the worse, I was pretty sure--at least not yet. But only a moron or a freaking lunatic could have faced the things I had and remained unfazed by them.
Jim ButcherMots clés pain change transformation tribulations
There's always, always a choice. My options might really, truly suck, but that doesn't mean there isn't a choice.
Jim ButcherMots clés choice harry-dresden cold-days
Molly blinked, then looked at Thomas and said, "Wait a minute.... We're his flunkies."
"You, may be," Thomas said, sneering. "I'm his thug. I'm way higher than a flunky."
"You are high if you think I'm taking any orders from you," Molly said tartly.
Mots clés harry-dresden molly-carpenter thomas-raith cold-days
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