Thomm Quackenbush Quotes - Page 3

She sat in the silence that resulted in the absence of her words, feeling unburdened but not absolved.

The seed of an urban legend find fertile soil at the corner of tragedy and imagination.

Mythology was littered with people who meddled in the affairs of elves and fairies and were never again heard from.

Any relationship that developed power dynamics, where she thought she had the right to dictate someone else's behavior or have him dictate hers, was ended almost immediately. She could not stand the thought of hands on her that presumed she belonged to them.

If you think it is spiritual to burn food in front of starving people in hopes that your gods will bring this back to you in triplicate, you are missing the point and sowing animosity from all sides.

I know a great number of things, though never all at once or for very long.

Adolescence impelled her eyes to stay at an even keel, to deal with the ground before flickering to the heavens. Night became not dotted with fairy clouds of celestial brilliance, but simply the time when the sun was out of sight.

She hated anyone who clung to the supernatural when the natural was perfectly serviceable.

She harbored the childhood presumption that the truly scary things could only find her in the night.

Those who mouth your sacred words with an accent you deem wrong annoy you more than those speaking something you cannot understand.

Instead of the birds of the sky and beast of the field, the gods were more than men because Man needed them to be, for what could the world be if Man were the best of all creatures?

There is little worse than when the person to whom you want to apologize is having great sex in your room.

If you try to leave me like this, I will haunt you until the end of your days. I will drop out of classes and become a hobo and will leave you little garbage sculptures telling you how much I love you. Every morning. Right at front of your door. You will never be rid of me.

He dances all night, utterly naked and composed of nothing but six and a half feet of pale sinew. He could dance to a field of crickets, to the sound of rain on a tin roof, to a stampede.

I am not interested in wishing hard and having the Universe provide all I need without any work on my part.

She did not arrive at Annandale without taking the chisel to herself more than once, without rubbing up against a few boys to smooth an edge or two.

You get a few of them together and don’t be surprised if pipes and drums appear out of nowhere. It is a sort of magic people believe in…

She mourned the history that the invisible intruder had erased, but not enough that she would spend a second more of her future feeling the emptiness.

I could either succumb to the nightmares I’ve raised or paint them.

The nature of God's plan can be difficult to fathom when you are toiling in some small corner of it, but it is glorious from above, if you allow yourself the perspective.

That these people are wandering around, looking for aliens to justify the emptiness inside them and let them feel special without effort, creeps me out.

I honor the divine on a daily basis, but I want to know that the greatest magick in my life is living authentically with what I have and can do.

The dark places will not be instinctively frightening, true, but isn’t it better that children fear boogeymen than pedophiles? Isn’t it better that libraries are filled to the brim with stories and not only words?

The night sky made her feel infinite before she knew the word.

We are given these niches, small worlds of our own populated by only a handful, where we feel understood. Our bubble worlds bump into innumerable others daily, but there is so little cause to allow their integrity to be breached.

Frequently, people confront us who seemed to be egging the world into calling them on their miserable actions so they can have the pleasure of angry vengeance or an excuse to attract attention. Our compassion cannot be giving them what they think they want, since it is unreasonable to want to be hateful.

Nothing in my beliefs tells me to let my relationship with the divine interfere with romantic love, the friction of sects never getting in the way of the friction of sex.

She kissed him… long enough he could almost hear her thoughts. Long enough that he began to know her story, know what she had been through.

My students tag tables, walls, and chairs because their greatest fear is that no one will ever remember them. They do not believe they can give impassioned speeches, rally people in protest, paint masterpieces. They think they will die, small and forgotten, and it dictates their every action.

One’s first love is the most transformative and least replicable experience. I could love someone else, but it would be its own unfathomable emotion. It would not be this precious, first, spring love. If I cannot love her fully, it will be a love that corrodes within me.

If you knew the mercy I am showing by not dismembering you where you stand for getting in my way, you would not stop thanking me.

She is so free with herself and so certain of her path, something I now cynically believe only comes from not being aware of the infinite multitude of right paths.

I don't know what my future will bring me and it's terrifying. To stand before this vast expanse and know that the future could take away what matters most simply because that is the nature of indifferent chaos in the hands of wanton boys.

You were abducted by space aliens. Of course you want egg rolls.

Having ascended to some spiritual strength by focusing on the power of the feminine, it is no doubt tempting to wield this strength against that which triggers memories of having once been weaker.

Sex is usually cleaner than a blood sacrifice.

Other young women were more than kind when it came to teaching him the basics of makeup artistry, but he did not like the idea of foundation, knowing enough alchemy to realize it had historically been made with lead and mercury.

He kissed her forehead and drifted into an uneasy sleep, listening to the soft snoring of the creature on his chest, one he loved slightly more than he had come to fear.

The vampire community has enough problems. We don't need to add petty backbiting to it.

Snow is both our best friend and worst enemy. Best friend because it shows us in a concrete form the paths other have taken to get where they are. Worst enemy because it will tell such tales of us if we chance upon it. I find poetry in snow that cannot be resisted. In a way, it is the closest to time travel most civilians will ever manage.

Sex was this primal connection like no magick she had ever known, even separated by a millimeter of latex. She knew that some combined the two and, while she could see how this would improve the magick, it would dilute the sex.

Even in concept, angels are unsettling. They’re like drones, totally mindlessly following the will of God. The only difference between the Heavenly angels and demons is that the demons opted to follow after a different queen bee. So, you have these eyeball speckled, part animal monsters who exist only to worship and obey God. They don’t have a moral compass, they just act.

Magic was not in glitter and sparks. Real magic didn't need to be.

The UFOs were nothing more than the collective fantasies of a stressed out society... The world into which UFOs had appeared was one of under-the-desk siren drills against nuclear annihilation. Society had made a new myth, a communal idea of something outside a species apparently intent on dooming itself.

Tombstones covered the dale, the smooth marble surfaces bright. She had spent days here as a teenager, though not out of any awareness of mortality. Like every adolescent, she intended to live forever.

You can’t exist on this plane for long purely one thing or another. A totally evil creature is so destructive that it obliterates itself. A totally good one… the same. So, we mix a bit of coffee with our cream.

Time owed an alliance to the undying.

Do you want me because you love me or because I provide you normality drag?

She is an angel, how bad could it be?”“Ask the first born of Israel when the Pharaoh pissed off Moses. Ask the salty residents of Sodom. Ask anyone who was not Noah or a fish once the Flood rolled in.

Though her body fit with his like a puzzle piece, his mind was an ever-shifting riddle she felt she could study her whole life and never fully solve. She spent the most time touching him, caressing him, massaging the secrets from his shoulders and embarrassments from his lower back.

Keep to the 'I-statements' and discuss your feelings, she lectured herself. I think, I feel. Don't be accusatory. Don't tell him that he is an insecure prick who should back off before you deck him. Instead, say, 'I feel you are acting like an insecure prick who should back off before I deck you.

I was pure, before you defiled me, and don't you forget it. As though the concept of purity is anything more than the construct of selfish, competitive men stampeding toward the women to call dibs. I'll be damned if I'm not worth stampeding toward, but the prize had better be me, hymen or no hymen.

She knew the power of bureaucracy well enough to be aware she had to sit and be admonished until this stranger felt she had expressed sufficient disappointment in a girl she would never have to see again.

My life of sin among people I’m sure he thinks are deviants is happier and more honest that his oppressive, sexist cesspool.

No one should ever die alone. Rejoin the love of the goddess who made you. No longer a man, no longer a human, you must go as only your essence back to She who made you, into the womb of the Great Mother. You have again become a seed that will form into other lives in other lands.

It seemed inequitable at best that one could and did gain a reputation for things that left one both physically and emotionally unsatisfied.

The trouble with psychics is that they convince you that you get this future no matter what you do. It is as though you can cheat the universe out of your experiences, that you need only tweak something here or there to live happily ever after. It allows for spiritual sloth in the certainty of providence.

Our brains want God even as our minds debunk the divine.

When I lay down on my deathbed, I want to know that I have done all I could to be a first rate human, not a third rate pawn of the gods.

Summer flings always seemed amazing in movies, though that might be because the leading man did not ever call his romantic interest "dude.