Alloy Of Law Wayne Quotes

That hat looks ridiculous.” “Fortunately, I can change hats,” Wayne said, “while you, sir, are stuck with that face.

Wayne's a little attached to that hat," Waxillium said. "He thinks it's lucky." Wayne: "It is lucky. I ain't never died while wearing that hat." Marasi frowned. "I ... I'm not sure I know how to respond." Wax: "That's a common reaction to Wayne.

The ways of Wayne are mysterious and incomprehensible.

So,” Marasi said, “you traded a dead man’s scarf for another dead man’s gun. But…the gun itself belonged to someone dead, so by the same logic—” “Don’t try,” Waxillium said. “Logic doesn’t work on Wayne.” “I bought a ward against it off a traveling fortune-teller,” Wayne explained. “It lets me add two ’n’ two and get a pickle.

Wayne: You wanna know why I really came to find you? Waxilliam: Why? Wayne: I thought of you happy in a comfy bed, resting and relaxing, spending the rest of your life sipping tea and reading papers while people bring you food and maids rub your toes and stuff. Waxilliam: And? Wayne: And I just couldn't leave you to a fate like that...I'm too good a friend to let a mate of mine die in such a terrible situation. Waxilliam: Comfortable? Wayne: No. Boring.

It's all right Wayne," Waxillium said softly. "I've made a promise. I told Lord Harms I'd return Steris to him. And I will. That is that." "Then I will remain and help," Marasi said. "That is that." "And I could really use some food," Wayne added. "Fat is fat.

I really am impressed that you have been shot so often. Really.” “Getting hit’s not really that impressive,” Wayne noted. “It don’t take much skill to get shot. It’s avoiding the bullets that’s tough.

Well,” Waxillium said. “Perhaps I should begin by asking after your health.” “Perhaps you should,” Steris replied. “Er. Yes. How’s your health?” “Suitable.” “So is Waxillium,” Wayne added. They all turned to him. “You know,” he said. “He’s wearing a suit, and all. Suitable. Ahem. Is that mahogany?

It’s what happens when you shoot someone,” Wayne pointed out. “At least, usually someone has the good sense to get dead when you go to all the trouble to shoot them.

Huh" Wayne said thoughtfully "Tea's poisoned." With that, he toppled to the ground.

What wasdat, sir? What wazzat sir? What wassat, sir?” “Wayne, what are you babbling about?” Waxillium asked. “Practicing my pretzel guy,” Wayne said. “He had a great accent...” Waxillium glanced at him. "That hat looks ridiculous.” “Fortunately, I can change hats,” Wayne said in the pretzel-guy accent, “while you, sir, are stuck with that face.

Wayne claimed to have memorized the names of all of the different possible combinations of Twinborn. Of course, Wayne also claimed to have once stolen a horse that belched in perfect musical notes, so one learned to take what he said with a pinch of copper.

So, Wax,” Wayne butted in. “Where did you say that bloke was who had my hat?” “I told you that he got away after I shot him.” “I was hoping he’d dropped my hat, you know. Getting shot makes people drop stuff.” Waxillium sighed. “He still had it on when he left, I’m afraid.” Wayne started cursing. “Wayne,” Marasi said. “It’s only a hat.” “Only a hat?” he asked, aghast. “Wayne’s a little attached to that hat,” Waxillium said. “He thinks it’s lucky.” “It is lucky. I ain’t never died while wearing that hat.

Nothing else dangerous we could find. Other than Wayne’s body odor.” “That’s the smell of incredibleness,” Wayne called from inside.

The rest of the time, I don't do so much thinkin'. 'Cuz if I did, I'd go running back to where things is simple. You see?

Waxillium found himself nodding. “You can be very wise sometimes, Wayne.” “It’s onnacount of my thinkin’, mate,” Wayne said, tapping his head, increasing the thickness of his accent. “It’s what I do wif my brain. Somma the time, at least.

They’re all Allomancers,” Waxillium guessed. “More than that,” Wayne said. “They’re all relatives.” “It’s only been three hundred years since the Originators, Wayne. We’re all relatives.” “Does that mean you’ll take responsibility for me?” “No.

He was honest,” Wayne said. “I got a sense for that sort of thing.” He sneezed. “You believed that Lessie really was a dancer, the first time we met her,” Waxillium said, rising. “That’s different. She was a woman. Good at lying, they are. The God Beyond made’m that way.” “I’m … not certain how I should take that,” Marasi said. “With a pinch of copper,” Waxillium said. “And a healthy dose of skepticism. Just like anything Wayne says.

Wayne recognized him. The fellow had tried to shoot him, so Wayne had broken his arm with a dueling cane. Downright rude, trying to shoot like that. When a fellow pulls out a dueling cane, you should respond with one of your own—or at least a knife. Trying to shoot Wayne was like bringing dice to a card game. What was the world coming to?

But you know what I think? I think you're looking for excuses to not let go. This thing, it's who you are. And no mansion, no marriage, and no mere title is going to change that." Wayne tipped his hat. "You're meant to be helping people, mate. It's what you do.

Most people, they didn’t understand hats, and Wayne didn’t really blame them. Until you’d had a good, lucky hat, you wouldn’t understand the value of it.

Logic doesn’t work on Wayne.” “I bought a ward against it off a traveling fortune-teller,” Wayne explained. “It lets me add two ’n’ two and get a pickle.

Don’t try,” Waxillium said. “Logic doesn’t work on Wayne.” “I bought a ward against it off a traveling fortune-teller,” Wayne explained. “It lets me add two ’n’ two and get a pickle.” “I … have no response to that,” Marasi said.

But you know what I think? I think you're looking for excuses to not let go. This ting, it's who you are. And no mansion, no marriage, and no mere title is going to change that." Wayne tipped his hat. "You're meant to be helping people, mate. It's what you do.

I suggested she write down her thoughts" He said, "...and, well, my daughter is a very thorough woman." "I can see that." Waxillium said. "I suggest that you never ask her to pass the milk" Wayne added under his breath, so only Waxillium could hear "She seems likely to throw a cow at you just to be certain the job is done thoroughly.

The ways of Wayne are mysterious and incomprehensible,” Wayne said. “What he giveth, he can draw back unto himself. And lo, let it be written and pondered.

Rusts. Those two were as awkward as a man suddenly splitting his cheeks in church.

I suggest that you never ask her to pass the milk,” Wayne added under his breath, so only Waxillium could hear. “As she seems likely to throw a cow at you, just to be certain the job is done thoroughly.

He’s fine,” Wayne said, holding the door open for them. “I got quite near my entire rusted back blown off earlier, if you’ll kindly recall, and I didn’t hear nearly an ounce of the sympathy you’re showin’ him.” “That’s different,” Marasi said, walking past him. “What? Why? ’Cuz I can heal?” “No,” she said, “because—even after knowing you only a short time—I’m fairly certain that on one level or another, you deserve to get blown up every now and again.

What’s our legacy? What have we accomplished? Don’t you ever feel like you never actually grew up? That everyone else did, but you’re secretly faking?

Lessie waved from the inside of her building, then pointed toward the back. She was going to go out in that direction and creep along behind the next set of buildings. Wax nodded, then made a curt gesture. He’d try to hook up with Wayne and Barl, who had gone to check the other side of the town

Harmony, Waxillium thought. If Miles had been born back then, in the days before, he’d have been a hero.

It’s all right, Wayne,” Waxillium said softly. “I’ve made a promise. I told Lord Harms I’d return Steris to him. And I will. That is that.” “Then I will remain and help,” Marasi said. “That is that.” “And I could really use some food,” Wayne added. “Fat is fat.

Wayne’s a little attached to that hat,” Waxillium said. “He thinks it’s lucky.” “It is lucky. I ain’t never died while wearing that hat.” Marasi frowned. “I … I’m not sure I know how to respond.

¿Los anillos interiores de un árbol formaban menos parte de él solo porque ya no estuvieron expuestos al aire?

You’d say, “What’s that, Kell?” And they’d say, “That? That there’s the crapper.” And you’d reply, “What do you do with it?” And they’d say, “Well, Wayne, that’s where you put your crap.” It made sense. But rich folk, they had a different word for the crapper. They’d call it a “commode” or a “washroom.” That way, when someone asked for the crapper, they knew it was a person they needed to oppress.

That was when I still cared about their opinions, I guess. Before I learned how much power over a situation you gain when you decide that you don’t care what others think of you.

Don’t try,” Waxillium said. “Logic doesn’t work on Wayne.” “I bought a ward against it off a traveling fortune-teller,” Wayne explained. “It lets me add two ’n’ two and get a pickle.” “I … have no response to that,” Marasi said.

You call me blunt. Well, that’s the man I want to be. That’s the man I admire. Perhaps I’m only acting like him, but it’s a sincere act. Hang me, but it is.

rich

Huh,” Wayne said thoughtfully. “Tea’s poisoned.” With that, he toppled to the ground.

You always have to bring that up, don’t you?” Wayne leaned back, tipping his hat down over his eyes. “Honest mistake.” “You put dynamite in the oven, Wayne.” “Gotta hide a gift where nobody’ll look for it.

How is it?” Wax asked. “Tastes like cotton candy,” Wayne said, relishing the flavor, “made of baby.” “I did not need to hear that,” Wax said,

The room fell silent. A walnut bounced off VenDell’s head. He immediately turned to glare at Wayne. “Sorry,” Wayne said. “Just had trouble believing someone could be so melodramatic, so I figured you might not be real. Hadda check, ya know?

- ¿Puedes derrotarlos tú solo? -medio susurró, medio silabeó Marasi para Wayne, que sonrió y respondió en silencio, moviendo tan solo los labios a su vez: - ¿Le pican las pelotas a un tío sin manos?

Wayne liked how banks worked. They had style. Many people, they’d keep their money out of sight, hidden under beds and some such. What was the fun of that? But a bank … a bank was a target. Building a place like this, then stuffing it full of cash, was like climbing atop a hill and daring anyone who approached to try to knock you off. He figured that must be the point. The sport of it. Why else would they put so much valuable stuff together in one place? It was supposed to be a message, proof to the little people that some folks were so rich, they could use their money to build a house for their money and still have enough money left to fill that house.

Greet each day with a smile so it doesn’t know what you’re planning on doing to it.

Perhaps you should,” Steris replied. “Er. Yes. How’s your health?” “Suitable.” “So is Waxillium,” Wayne added. They all turned to him. “You know,” he said. “He’s wearing a suit, and all. Suitable.

I need your help,” Waxillium called back. “I need you to stick your head in a bucket of water and slowly count to a thousand!

To the contrary, these people wanted something stable, something that would let them sustain their communities or forge new ones. Rioting was rarely caused by greed, but frequently by frustration and hopelessness.

When she fought, she was the blade. When she loved, she was the kiss.

The ways of Wayne are mysterious and incomprehensible. What he giveth, he can draw back unto himself.

Next time? How often do you expect you’ll be imitating Death?” Wayne shrugged. “This is the fourth so far. So you never can tell.

Greet the day with a smile, that way it doesn’t know what you will do to it.

I suggest that you never ask her to pass the milk," Wayne added under his breath, so only Waxillium could hear. "As she seems likely to throw a cow at you, just to be certain the job is done thoroughly.

Ain’t nobody what knows the cow better than the butcher, Wax.

Huh,” Wayne said thoughtfully. “Tea’s poisoned.