Erik Night Quotes & Sayings

There was a pause, and then Damien said, "I nominate Erik Night."
Shaunee rolled her eyes.
Erin said, "Okay, how many times do we have to explain this to you
the boy is not on your team. He likes breasts and vaginas, not penises and anu
"
"Stop!" I absolutely did not want to get off on this subject. "I think Erik Night is a good choice, and not because he likes me or, well ... — P.C. Cast

Lost children filled every chair at the headquarters of the Columbian Guard; nineteen spent the night and were claimed by their parents the next day. — Erik Larson

I want to come back as me. — Ed Koch

Don't you think baby corns are scary? There's just something wrong about their midget bodies. — P.C. Cast

Did you ever go to a place ... I think it was called Norway?" "No," said Arthur, "no, I didn't." "Pity," said Slartibartfast, "that was one of mine. Won an award, you know. Lovely crinkly edges. I was most upset to hear of its destruction. — Douglas Adams

He fills me with horror and I do not hate him. How can I hate him, Raoul? Think of Erik at my feet, in the house on the lake, underground. He accuses himself, he curses himself, he implores my forgiveness! ... He confesses his cheat. He loves me! He lays at my feet an immense and tragic love ... He has carried me off for love! ... He has imprisoned me with him, underground, for love! ... But he respects me: he crawls, he moans, he weeps! ... And, when I stood up, Raoul, and told him that I could only despise him if he did not, then and there, give me my liberty ... he offered it ... he offered to show me the mysterious road ... Only ... only he rose too ... and I was made to remember that, though he was not an angel, nor a ghost, nor a genius, he remained the voice ... for he sang. And I listened ... and stayed! ... That night, we did not exchange another word. He sang me to sleep. — Gaston Leroux

Between the lights and the ever-present blue ghosts of the Columbian Guard, the fair achieved another milestone: For the first time Chicagoans could stroll at night in perfect safety. This alone began to draw an increased number of visitors, especially young couples locked in the rictus of Victorian courtship and needful of quiet dark places. — Erik Larson

A stroke of a man knocking a thistle top with a walking stick — John Arlott

I guess it's better to have a chalk smile, than an ink smile. Where chalk changes with the direction of wind, ink stays as a deep stain. Like rain, sun and hail against a fake plant. — Anthony Liccione

Whether out of professional pique or some instinct of fear, the ship's mascot - a cat named Dowie, after Captain Turner's predecessor - fled the ship that night, for points unknown. — Erik Larson

Our Z's been fucking Loren Blake. — P.C. Cast

In time they sank and decayed, and nothing is left of them except an occasional impression in stones, in stones now found in deserts and on high mountain peaks. Birdless forests block the sun in uninhabited lands. Insects swirl in the air. And then, in a majestic, bloodthirsty, and mighty heave, the spinal columns of the vertebrates rise as monstrous lizards and fabulous creatures; dragons flinging their fearful bellows up to a steaming sky ... Slowly they become birds, birds as light as undreamt dreams. The searing roars become birdsong, whimpering flutes on warm nights. — Erik Fosnes Hansen

It is important, even if you performed a role the night before, to think, 'This is the first time this is going to happen.' — Erik Bruhn

ELSEWHERE in the city, a scheduled passenger named Alta Piper struggled through a restless night in her hotel room. She was the daughter of Leonora Piper, the famed spirit medium known universally as "Mrs. Piper," the only medium that William James, the pioneering Harvard psychologist and sometime psychic investigator, believed to be authentic. Alta seemed to share her mother's gift, for throughout that Friday night, as she claimed later, she heard a voice telling her, "If you get into your berth, you'll never get out. — Erik Larson

Boswell and Thompson write, Every night the rooms on the two upper floors of the Castle were filled to overflowing. Holmes reluctantly accommodated a few men as paying guests, but catered primarily to women - preferably young and pretty ones of apparent means, whose homes were distant from Chicago and who had no one close to them who might make inquiry if they did not soon return. Many never went home. Many, indeed, never emerged from the castle, having once entered it — Erik Larson

So every night," he said, "I slept with a torpedo and a puppy. — Erik Larson

At night thunderstorms arose often, shedding lightning that gave the terrain the pallor of a corpse. Fog would settle in for days, causing the edge of the cliff to look like the edge of the material world. At regular intervals the men heard the lost-calf moan of foghorns as steamships waited offshore for clarity. — Erik Larson

I never said I didn't like kissing you. The problem is too many guys have like kissing you. - Erik Night to Zoey Redbird (Ch 26) — P.C. Cast

Erik: Are you very tired?
Christine: Oh, tonight I gave you my soul, and I am dead.
Erik: Your soul is a beautiful thing, child. No emperor received so fair a gift. The angels wept to-night. — Gaston Leroux

Jason had joked that dust bunnies under the bed were pets he didn't mind keeping: they never whined for food and didn't require a litter box. They also didn't wake you up at night by barking at passing raccoons. — Erik Bundy

Snow fell. Carolers moved among the mansions of Prairie Avenue, pausing now and then to enter the fine houses for hot mulled cider and cocoa. The air was scented with woodsmoke and roasting duck. In Graceland Cemetery, to the north, young couples raced their sleighs over the snow-heaped undulations, pulling their blankets especially tight as they passed the dark and dour tombs of Chicago's richest and most powerful men, the tombs' bleakness made all the more profound by their juxtaposition against the night-blued snow [ ... ]
Outside the snow muffled the concussion of passing horses. Trains bearing fangs of ice tore through the crossing at Wallace. — Erik Larson

Neither were you [born yesterday], unless of course I am wrong, in which case welcome to the world, little baby, and congratulations on learning to read so early in life. — Lemony Snicket

Resolutely train yourself to attain peace. — Gautama Buddha

Erik is not truly dead. He lives on within the souls of those who choose to listen to the music of the night. — Gaston Leroux

She considered compassion the highest virtue, but that night on Obstetric Ward B, it had had a twin sister whose face was invisible to Carla. The suffering women, however, had recognized it immediately: condemnation. — Erik Valeur

My favorite "trick" is to stop writing at a point where I know that I can pick up easily the next day. I'll stop in mid-paragraph, often in midsentence. It makes getting out of bed so much easier, because I know that all I'll have to do to be productive is complete the sentence. And by then I'll be seated at my desk, coffee and Oreo cookie at hand, the morning's inertia overcome. There's an added advantage: The human brain hates incomplete sentences. All night my mind will have secretly worked on the passage and likely mapped out the remainder of the page, even the chapter, while simultaneously sending me on a dinner date with Cate Blanchett. — Erik Larson

Zo, I'm not a damn pussy!'
Erik, looking very tall and full-grown, kick-your-butt vampyre-like, snorted sarcastically and then said, 'No, you're a damn human. Wait, that does make you a pussy! — P.C. Cast

I'm sick of you cheating on me with everyone who has a dick — P.C. Cast

When night falls people become as lonely as snowflakes floating down from a gray city sky. Now and again we fall past a streetlamp and are visible, a brief moment apart, REAL
we can be seen. We exist. Then we vanish into the gray darkness and the earth draws us to it. — Erik Fosnes Hansen

Obedience to truth known, is the king's highway to that which is still beyond us. — Francis Quarles

In any theological struggle, the first thousand years are always the bitterest. — Philip Jenkins