“He's gawking at me when I open the door. "Damn girl," he says, looking me over, "what the hell are you trying to do to me?"I look down at myself, still trying to wake up the rest of the way and realize I'm in those tiny cotton white shorts and varsity tee with no bra on underneath. Oh my God, my nipples are like beacons shining through my shirt! I cross my arms over my chest and try not to look at him i the eyes when he helps himself the rest of the way inside. "I was going to tell you to get dressed," he goes on, grinning as he walks into the room carrying his bags and the guitar, "but really, you can go just like that if you want."I shake my head, hiding the smile creeping up on my face.”
―
J.A. Redmerski,
The Edge of Never
“The hardest thing of all to see is what is really there. Books about birds show pictures of the peregrine, and the text is full of information. Large and isolated in the gleaming whiteness of the page, the hawk stares back at you, bold, statuesque, brightly coloured. But when you have shut the book, you will never see that bird again. Compared with the close and static image, the reality will seem dull and disappointing. The living bird will never be so large, so shiny-bright. It will be deep in landscape, and always sinking farther back, always at the point of being lost. Pictures are waxworks beside the passionate mobility of the living bird.” ― J.A. Baker, The Peregrine
“But as I stood there dressed in a cute black pants suit and white button-up shirt and heels, I felt completely out of place. Not necessarily because of the clothes, but…I just don’t belong there. I can’t put my finger on it, but that Monday and the rest of that week when I woke up, got dressed and walked into that store, something was itching the back part of my consciousness. I couldn’t hear the actual words, but it felt like: This is your life, Camryn Bennett. This is your life.” ― J.A. Redmerski, The Edge of Never
“And now I realize---so what if I write scary stories? I might hurt someone with nouns and adjectives, but I would never hurt someone for real.” ― J.A. White, Nightbooks
“are polar. I am north and he is south. We are equal and opposites in almost every way imaginable. We are this and that. Black and white. Rough and calm.” ― J.A. Huss, Three, Two, One
“The peregrine’s view of the land is like the yachtsman’s view of the shore as he sails into the long estuaries. A wake of water recedes behind him, the wake of the pierced horizon glides back on either side. Like the seafarer, the peregrine lives in a pouring-away world of no attachment, a world of wakes and tilting, of sinking planes of land and water. We who are anchored and earthbound cannot envisage this freedom of the eye. The peregrine sees and remembers patterns we do not know exist: the neat squares of orchard and woodland, the endlessly varying quadrilateral shapes of fields. He finds his way across the land by a succession of remembered symmetries. But what does he understand? Does he really ‘know’ that an object that increases in size is moving towards him? Or is it that he believes in the size he sees, so that a distant man is too small to be frightening but a man near is a man huge and therefore terrifying? He may live in a world of endless pulsations, of objects forever contracting or dilating in size. Aimed at a distant bird, a flutter of white wings, he may feel – as it spreads out beneath him like a stain of white – that he can never fail to strike. Everything he is has been evolved to link the targeting eye to the striking talon.” ― J.A. Baker, The Peregrine
“I guess my parents really screwed me up somewhere along the line because as good as they are to me, as much as they do for me and as much as I love them, I still managed to grow up terrified I would end up just like them. Unhappy and only pretending to live out this wonderful life with two kids, a dog and a white picket fence. But in reality, I knew they sleep with their backs facing each other.” ― J.A. Redmerski, The Edge of Never
“Why destroy the World when you can watch the World destroy itself?” ― J.A. White, The Whispering Trees
“Jim Crow and upright Christian living are held to be indivisible by millions of whites, especially in the United States and the British colonies and dominions.” ― J.A. Rogers, World's Great Men of Color, Volume I
“You can use the grimoire, but you don't need it," Mary continued. "Not when it comes to animals. That is your special gift. This is true magic, not magic stolen from the pages of a spellbook. You will have to learn how to wield it. It will not be easy.” ― J.A. White, Well of Witches
“Alex woke up in the lower half of a bunk bed. He had no idea where he was or how he had gotten there. He lay perfectly still, his body frozen with fear. Gradually, the events of the previous night returned to him. The elevator. The apartment. The witch. Except she’s not really a witch, Alex thought, his mind racing. Witches aren’t real. She’s just some crazy lady who thinks she’s a witch. But then why did I see a TV that wasn’t really there? Did she hypnotize me or something? Alex clutched his blanket as a question of more immediate concern popped into his head. Who’s sleeping on the top bunk?” ― J.A. White, Nightbooks
“Of course, if he accepted what the woman had said at face value, that meant the apartment was capable of reading children’s minds in order to lure them with the appropriate bait. Like a smarter version of the candy house in “Hansel and Gretel,” Alex thought. In my case, a scary movie did the trick. He stared at the clothes before him.” ― J.A. White, Nightbooks
“Got it," I say as he hands me a pencil skirt, a crisp long-sleeved white shirt, and some low black heels. "This is what I'm wearing?" I'm a librarian. "Can I safely assume the accessories will include glasses on a chain and my hair in a bun? Should I shush people tonight?” ― J.A. Huss, Tragic / Manic / Panic
“Kara nodded, and then watched with surprise as her mind leaked a thought she didn't even know she had into the ground. There is good in everyone. It slipped into the sludge and flowed away.” ― J.A. White, Well of Witches
“Nothing quells the dark temptations of power better than empathy.” ― J.A. White, Well of Witches
“She could see her many faults reflected in nearly all the objects littering the floor. I'm lacking in so many ways, she thought.” ― J.A. White, Well of Witches
“What if she was thinking about this all wrong? What if she did deserve her powers after all? What if her fault was . . . Self-doubt.” ― J.A. White, Well of Witches
“I found myself crouching over the kill, like a mantling hawk. My eyes turned quickly about, alert for the walking heads of men. Unconsciously I was imitating the movements of a hawk, as in some primitive ritual; the hunter becoming the thing he hunts. I looked into the wood. In a lair of shadow the peregrine was crouching, watching me, gripping the neck of a dead branch. We live, in these days in the open, the same ecstatic fearful life. We shun men. We hate their suddenly uplifted arms, the insanity of their flailing gestures, their erratic scissoring gait, their aimless stumbling ways, the tombstone whiteness of their faces.” ― J.A. Baker, The Peregrine
“Nothing is black and white. There are no universal standards that determine what’s good and what’s evil. It’s subjective.” ― J.A. Konrath, Jack Daniels Boxset, #4-6
“The hardest thing of all to see is what is really there. Books about birds show pictures of the peregrine, and the text is full of information. Large and isolated in the gleaming whiteness of the page, the hawk stares back at you, bold, statuesque, brightly coloured. But when you have shut the book, you will never see that bird again. Compared with the close and static image, the reality will seem dull and disappointing. The living bird will never be so large, so shiny-bright. It will be deep in landscape, and always sinking farther back, always at the point of being lost. Pictures are waxworks beside the passionate mobility of the living bird.” ― J.A. Baker, The Peregrine
“But as I stood there dressed in a cute black pants suit and white button-up shirt and heels, I felt completely out of place. Not necessarily because of the clothes, but…I just don’t belong there. I can’t put my finger on it, but that Monday and the rest of that week when I woke up, got dressed and walked into that store, something was itching the back part of my consciousness. I couldn’t hear the actual words, but it felt like: This is your life, Camryn Bennett. This is your life.” ― J.A. Redmerski, The Edge of Never
“And now I realize---so what if I write scary stories? I might hurt someone with nouns and adjectives, but I would never hurt someone for real.” ― J.A. White, Nightbooks
“are polar. I am north and he is south. We are equal and opposites in almost every way imaginable. We are this and that. Black and white. Rough and calm.” ― J.A. Huss, Three, Two, One
“The peregrine’s view of the land is like the yachtsman’s view of the shore as he sails into the long estuaries. A wake of water recedes behind him, the wake of the pierced horizon glides back on either side. Like the seafarer, the peregrine lives in a pouring-away world of no attachment, a world of wakes and tilting, of sinking planes of land and water. We who are anchored and earthbound cannot envisage this freedom of the eye. The peregrine sees and remembers patterns we do not know exist: the neat squares of orchard and woodland, the endlessly varying quadrilateral shapes of fields. He finds his way across the land by a succession of remembered symmetries. But what does he understand? Does he really ‘know’ that an object that increases in size is moving towards him? Or is it that he believes in the size he sees, so that a distant man is too small to be frightening but a man near is a man huge and therefore terrifying? He may live in a world of endless pulsations, of objects forever contracting or dilating in size. Aimed at a distant bird, a flutter of white wings, he may feel – as it spreads out beneath him like a stain of white – that he can never fail to strike. Everything he is has been evolved to link the targeting eye to the striking talon.” ― J.A. Baker, The Peregrine
“I guess my parents really screwed me up somewhere along the line because as good as they are to me, as much as they do for me and as much as I love them, I still managed to grow up terrified I would end up just like them. Unhappy and only pretending to live out this wonderful life with two kids, a dog and a white picket fence. But in reality, I knew they sleep with their backs facing each other.” ― J.A. Redmerski, The Edge of Never
“Why destroy the World when you can watch the World destroy itself?” ― J.A. White, The Whispering Trees
“Jim Crow and upright Christian living are held to be indivisible by millions of whites, especially in the United States and the British colonies and dominions.” ― J.A. Rogers, World's Great Men of Color, Volume I
“You can use the grimoire, but you don't need it," Mary continued. "Not when it comes to animals. That is your special gift. This is true magic, not magic stolen from the pages of a spellbook. You will have to learn how to wield it. It will not be easy.” ― J.A. White, Well of Witches
“Alex woke up in the lower half of a bunk bed. He had no idea where he was or how he had gotten there. He lay perfectly still, his body frozen with fear. Gradually, the events of the previous night returned to him. The elevator. The apartment. The witch. Except she’s not really a witch, Alex thought, his mind racing. Witches aren’t real. She’s just some crazy lady who thinks she’s a witch. But then why did I see a TV that wasn’t really there? Did she hypnotize me or something? Alex clutched his blanket as a question of more immediate concern popped into his head. Who’s sleeping on the top bunk?” ― J.A. White, Nightbooks
“Of course, if he accepted what the woman had said at face value, that meant the apartment was capable of reading children’s minds in order to lure them with the appropriate bait. Like a smarter version of the candy house in “Hansel and Gretel,” Alex thought. In my case, a scary movie did the trick. He stared at the clothes before him.” ― J.A. White, Nightbooks
“Got it," I say as he hands me a pencil skirt, a crisp long-sleeved white shirt, and some low black heels. "This is what I'm wearing?" I'm a librarian. "Can I safely assume the accessories will include glasses on a chain and my hair in a bun? Should I shush people tonight?” ― J.A. Huss, Tragic / Manic / Panic
“Kara nodded, and then watched with surprise as her mind leaked a thought she didn't even know she had into the ground. There is good in everyone. It slipped into the sludge and flowed away.” ― J.A. White, Well of Witches
“Nothing quells the dark temptations of power better than empathy.” ― J.A. White, Well of Witches
“She could see her many faults reflected in nearly all the objects littering the floor. I'm lacking in so many ways, she thought.” ― J.A. White, Well of Witches
“What if she was thinking about this all wrong? What if she did deserve her powers after all? What if her fault was . . . Self-doubt.” ― J.A. White, Well of Witches
“I found myself crouching over the kill, like a mantling hawk. My eyes turned quickly about, alert for the walking heads of men. Unconsciously I was imitating the movements of a hawk, as in some primitive ritual; the hunter becoming the thing he hunts. I looked into the wood. In a lair of shadow the peregrine was crouching, watching me, gripping the neck of a dead branch. We live, in these days in the open, the same ecstatic fearful life. We shun men. We hate their suddenly uplifted arms, the insanity of their flailing gestures, their erratic scissoring gait, their aimless stumbling ways, the tombstone whiteness of their faces.” ― J.A. Baker, The Peregrine
“Nothing is black and white. There are no universal standards that determine what’s good and what’s evil. It’s subjective.” ― J.A. Konrath, Jack Daniels Boxset, #4-6
