Melvin B. Tolson: Anybody know who Willie Lynch was? Anybody? Raise your hand. No one? He was a vicious slave owner in the West Indies. The slave-masters in the colony of Virginia were having trouble controlling their slaves, so they sent for Mr. Lyn...
Borg Queen: What's wrong, Locutus? Isn't this familiar? Organic minds are such fragile things. How could you forget me so quickly? We were very close, you and I. You can still hear our song. Captain Jean-Luc Picard: Yes, I... I remember you. You were...
I didn’t like his tone. In fact I didn’t like boys’ tone when they knew they were hot and tried to be rude to girls because they knew they were hot.
She supposed they were imperfections, those marks, but they didn't feel that way to her; they were a history, cut into his body: the map of a life of endless war.
But the people who mattered were the people you chose instead of the people who were yours by an accident of birth. Real family was heart as much as, if not more than, blood.
Somehow, we were passing the boundaries of language and finding clarity in shared thought, even if we were just talking about beer!
My parents were just carried out of the building in the service elevator," he shouted at the cops. "They were vile, but they didn't deserve to be taken out with the trash!
In the early ages of the world, according to the scripture chronology, there were no kings; the consequence of which was there were no wars; it is the pride of kings which throws mankind into confusion.
...socialism had somehow made time more flexible. There were often situations when 1 PM and 5 PM were interchangeable.
His body was perfect. His parents were loaded. His grades were terrible. He was a high school girl’s dream come true.
We were just us, broken and bruised, fucked-up and messy, and together we were everything we never thought we could be.
If there was a light at the end of the tunnel, the flickering bulb above my head wasn’t it. The faces of my tormentors were no angels—they were hell’s minions and I’d stepped into their purgatory.
Then, as his planet killed him, it occurred to Kynes that his father and all the other scientists were wrong, that the most persistent principles of the universe were accident and error.
They were so ignorant, so naive, so resigned to their lot. They refused to believe anything that didn't fit in with what they were used to believing.
The nights were long, like the braids of a pretty girl, and the days were short, like a girl's sense. ("The North")
If he was not exactly a Spartan, he was, you might say, spartanatical. Things happened to you; they were good,or they were bad - and that was the truth about everything.
They served to remind Cabal - should a reminder ever be necessary - why his social skills were so poor: people were loathsome and not worth the practise.
Even as a small child, I understood that woman had secrets, and that some of these were only to be told to daughters. In this way we were bound together for eternity.
They were all dressed in their finest as though life really were some magical stage play in which every moment ought to be illuminated with its own bright spotlight.
I am . I value my uniqueness. If there were more like me I would hope they were small and easy to .
Not all sons were like their fathers. A son chose the man he would be. Not all daughters were like their fathers. A daughter monster chose the monster she would be.
