Bones Brennan Quotes

The Lynburns built this town on their blood and bones." "That was their first mistake," Jared said. "They should've built a city on rock and roll.

Death in anonymity is the ultimate insult to human dignity.

Kami linked her arms behind his back, felt the breadth of his shoulders and the reality of skin and muscle and bone, and thought again, Don't let me go.

I did not matter what distant iron city had raised him. He had been made by Sorry-in-the-Vale, his bones as much a part of it as the valley and the woods. It was as if she had the whole town spread underneath her. Or the whole world, since right then he was the only part of it that mattered.

I chuckled at this passage from Dr. Tempe Brennan in "Bones Never Lie" by Kathy Reichs: "Back home, I ate Bojangles chicken with Bird and watched a rerun of 'Bones.' For some reason, the cat is nuts about Hodgins.

Nutrition is the key to good health.” “Good health is merely the slowest possible rate at which to die.

was the isolated skeleton?

I got through two reports, knocked off at five. Back home, I ate Bojangles’ chicken with Bird and watched a rerun of Bones. For some reason, the cat is nuts about Hodgins.

She thought about the way falling for Brennan felt like curling up by the fireplace, drinking hot tea, warming her bones and her heart and her soul with each metaphorical sip of his company.

Okay. Computer and

Edmonton is Canada’s answer to Omaha. Solid, unassuming, and surrounded by a whole lot of nothing. It’s a place that makes you think of sensible shoes.

Coming back to where you started is not the same as never leaving.

We are not human beings having a spiritual experience. We are spiritual beings having a human experience.” The only quote I could dredge up by the French priest-philosopher.

One, she’d gotten no hits with the MP families. Two, Honolulu PD Detectives Lô and Hung would begin canvassing hospitals first thing in the morning.

I ate with Wolf in the Situation Room. The pizza was good. The conversation did nothing to brighten my mood.

Or was the chill I felt triggered by forces other than wind?

Sleep hath no enemy like an unrelenting cat.

we both know phone inquiries aren’t handled that fast. It’s been only twenty-four hours since Plato Lowery was informed of the situation. He

Will you talk to me

vascular patterning

the odd tooth?

Very romantic,” said Lillian, her voice now like the sound of snapping dry bones in her bare hands. “A middle-aged Romeo, and a Juliet who wants a divorce.

the barometric pressure felt about a billion pounds per square inch,

gruff, the kind you associate with

That asshat couldn’t think his way through a fart without coaching.

I try to be open-minded, to judge each individual on merit and accomplishment. I hold no bias against any belief system, sexual orientation, or skin color that differs from mine. I do not hate in stereotype.

A Word Before All Is Grace was written in a certain frame of mind—that of a ragamuffin. Therefore, This book is by the one who thought he’d be farther along by now, but he’s not. It is by the inmate who promised the parole board he’d be good, but he wasn’t. It is by the dim-eyed who showed the path to others but kept losing his way. It is by the wet-brained who believed if a little wine is good for the stomach, then a lot is great. It is by the liar, tramp, and thief; otherwise known as the priest, speaker, and author. It is by the disciple whose cheese slid off his cracker so many times he said “to hell with cheese ’n’ crackers.” It is by the young at heart but old of bone who is led these days in a way he’d rather not go. But, This book is also for the gentle ones who’ve lived among wolves. It is for those who’ve broken free of collar to romp in fields of love and marriage and divorce. It is for those who mourn, who’ve been mourning most of their lives, yet they hang on to shall be comforted. It is for those who’ve dreamed of entertaining angels but found instead a few friends of great price. It is for the younger and elder prodigals who’ve come to their senses again, and again, and again, and again. It is for those who strain at pious piffle because they’ve been swallowed by Mercy itself. This book is for myself and those who have been around the block enough times that we dare to whisper the ragamuffin’s rumor— all is grace.

Historic burials. Every forensic anthropologist handles these cases. Old bones unearthed by dogs, construction workers, spring floods, grave diggers. The coroner’s office is the overseer of death in Quebec Province. If you die inappropriately, not under the care of a physician, not in bed, the coroner wants to know why. If your death threatens to take others along, the coroner wants to know that. The coroner demands an explanation of violent, unexpected, or untimely death, but persons long gone are of little interest. While their passings may once have cried out for justice, or heralded warning of an impending epidemic, the voices have been still for too long. Their antiquity established, these finds are turned over to the archaeologists. This promised to be such a case. Please.

We debated this point until the skull was clear of the bulk of its flesh. As I began sketching again, he asked me, “What do you think? Taxonomically.” “It’s difficult,” I admitted. By then my hand was capable of going about its work without demanding all of my attention; I could ponder issues of classification at the same time. “The dentition bears some similarities to those reported or observed in other breeds, at least in number and disposition of teeth … though of course baleen plates are not a usual feature. The vertebrae certainly pose a problem. This creature has quite a lot of them, and we do not usually consider animals to be close cousins who differ so greatly in such a fundamental characteristic.” Tom nodded, wiping his hands clean—or at least less filthy—with a cloth. “Not to mention the utter lack of hind limbs. I saw nothing in the dissection, not even anything vestigial. The closest thing it has to forelimbs are some rather inadequate fins.” “And yet there are similarities. The generally reptilian appearance, and more significantly, the degradation of the bones.” I thought of the six criteria customarily used to distinguish “true dragons” from draconic creatures: quadripedalism, flight-capable wings, a ruff or fan behind the skull, bones frangible after death, oviparity, and extraordinary breath. We might, if we were very generous, count the serpent’s supraorbital tendrils (presuming it had once possessed them) as the ruff, and Tom had just confirmed that the creatures laid eggs. Together with the bones—which decayed more slowly than those of terrestrial dragons, but did become frangible quite rapidly—that made three of six. But was there any significance to the distinction between “true dragons” and their mere cousins? What if there was only one characteristic that mattered?

Cl-8-4 CD Cl-12-4

from New Brunswick. She spent time in

Alex kicked in Babylon but needed to get to Macedonia.” No chuckle. Rule of thumb. If a joke needs explanation, there is no point. I let it go.

The Lynburns built this town on their blood and bones.” “That was their first mistake,” Jared said. “They should’ve built a city on rock and roll.

Contacting a government office on a weekend is like phoning the Pope on Easter morning.

For an hour we talked of Anne and that famous farm on Prince Edward Island. Thus the friendship began.

Elizabeth Báthory

The Torah, the Bible, the Koran. Each offers a recipe for spiritual contentment, for hope, for love, and for controlling basic human passions, and each claims to have gotten the recipe straight from God, but via a different messenger. They’re all just trying to provide a formula for orderly, spiritual living, but somehow the message gets twisted, like cells in a body turning cancerous. Self-appointed spokesmen declare the boundaries of correct belief, outsiders are labeled heretics, and the faithful are called upon to attack them. I don’t think it was meant to be that way.

But today I would frame the painting of the white cat playing with the red plaid mouse.

Violence against women is not a recent phenomenon. The bones of my sisters litter history and prehistory. The mass grave at Cahokia. The sacred cenote at Chichén Itzá. The Iron Age girl in the bog, hair shorn, blindfolded and leashed. Women are conditioned to be wary. Walk faster at the sound of footsteps. Peek through the hole before opening the door. Stand by the controls in the empty elevator. Fear the dark. Was Primrose simply another marcher in a random parade of female victims?

I’d heard of Nick Body, of course, the fiery provocateur. I’d never listened to a Body broadcast or read one of his blogs.

CNN

head,

As we ate, I half-listened to her tale of woe featuring a horse and her ex-husband and one of her twins. Made comforting noises at all the right spots.

Tell me about this Herron thing.” “Client came in Wednesday. Patrick Bertolds Flynn. Friends call him Buck.” Pete finished his eggs. “Tight-assed little wanker. I offer coffee, Flynn tells me he doesn’t use stimulants. Acts as though I’ve suggested we snort a few lines.

Are you finished?” Emma asked. “Have you seen it?” “Yes.” “And?” I considered crushing the handset. “And what?” “You’re not furious?” “Sure I’m furious. My butt looks huge. Are you done venting?” That’s what it was, of course. Venting.

That’s probably what attracted me to archaeology. No makeup, no fluffing or mousseing. Every day is casual Friday. Less than casual.

Three daughters would lie with their mothers for eternity.

I drained my glass and we headed down into the garden.

How's work?" I asked. Mind-numbing. Isort crap, Xerox crap, research crap. Now and then I file crap at the courthouse. Those jaunts through the halls of justice really get the old adrenaline pumping.

another

Good thing, I thought, picturing the handiwork of the mosquitoes and gnats.

Ryan drew in a deep breath. Let it out. Then he made a comment that melted my resentment. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. But at times you go with your heart, not your head. I worry that one day you will pay a price. I couldn’t stand it if something happened to you.

Same green walls. Same table. Same roster of death due to malice, melancholy, folly or fate. Morin did the honours. A dealer, held and punched by two rivals, dropped to the sidewalk and never got up. Probable homicide by rotation and hyperextension of the head. A man noosed his neck to a tree and hit the gas in his pickup. Probably suicide by self-decapitation. A meth addict slept naked on his balcony and froze to death. Probably accident by supreme stupidity.

I learned that Wicca claims an estimated 400,000-plus practitioners, making it the tenth largest religion in the United States, behind Christianity, nonreligious/secular, Judaism, Islam, Buddhism, agnostic, atheist, Hinduism, and Unitarian

Brujería, which combines Aztec myth, European witchcraft, and Cuban Santería, has Mexican cultural and religious roots. In the sixteenth century, when Spanish priests declared the pagan goddess Toantzin to be a Roman Catholic, Toantzin’s priestesses went underground and became brujas.

musicians and microbreweries. The nineteenth-century Downton-Abbey-eat-your-heart-out Vanderbilt house.

Palo Mayombe combines the belief systems of the Congo with those of the Yoruba and Catholicism. Practitioners are known as paleros or mayomberos. Rituals center not on orishas, but on the dead. Paleros use magic to manipulate, captivate, and control,

The seven big dogs are Eleggua, Obatalla, Chango, Oshun, Yemaya, Babalu Aye, and Oggun. Each

Guy’s like something crawled out of a saucer at Roswell.

The world is rife with evil and misfortune, but it is also full of good people determined to right wrongs. I would not sink into sadness. I would celebrate those who refuse to give up. Those who battle to make things better.

I felt a new wave of irritation, squelched it as I kicked into scientist mode. First rule: block mind-set. Don’t suspect, don’t fear, don’t hope for any outcome. Observe, weigh, measure, and record. Second rule: block emotion. Leave sorrow, pity, and outrage for later. Anger or grief can lead to error and misjudgment. Mistakes do your victim no good.

Each deity has a corresponding Catholic syncretism. Eleggua: Saint Anthony of Padua, the Holy Guardian Angel, or the Christ Child; Obatalla: Our Lady of Las Mercedes, the Holy Eucharist, Christ Resurrected; Chango: Saint Barbara; Oshun: Our Lady of Charity; Yemaya: Our Lady of Regla; Babalu Aye: Saint Lazarus; Oggun: Saint Peter.

Ashe is the energy that permeates the universe. It’s in everything—people, animals, plants, rocks. The orishas are mega-repositories. Spells, ceremonies, and invocations are all conducted to acquire ashe. Ashe gives the power to change things—to solve problems, subdue enemies, win love, acquire money. Ebbo is the concept of sacrifice. It’s what you do to get ashe. Ebbo can be an offering of fruit, flowers, candles, or food, or it can involve animal sacrifice. Priests and priestesses are known as santeros and

Americans have become a nation afraid.” “Of?” “A shooter on a rampage in a school cafeteria. A hijacked plane toppling a high-rise building. A bomb in a train or rental van. A postal delivery carrying anthrax. The power to kill is out there for anyone willing to use it. All it takes is access to the Internet or a friendly gun shop.” Ryan let me go on. “We fear terrorists, snipers, hurricanes, epidemics. And the worst part is we’ve lost faith in the government’s ability to protect us. We feel powerless and that causes constant anxiety, makes us fear things we don’t understand.

Human pigmentation is contained solely in the epidermis, the skin’s outer layer. Lose the epidermis, we all look Scandinavian,

Barely spring, yet the unseasonable Florida humidity made me feel like I’d disembarked from my flight into a Rottweiler’s mouth.

the military loves its alphabet soup. At CILHI, I was issued a glossary of acronyms as thick as my arm. KIA/BNR: killed in action, body not recovered. DADCAP: dawn and dusk combat air patrol; AACP: advance airborne command post; TRF: tuned radio frequency. Or trident refit facility. I guess context is important for that one. But you get the idea. It makes a civilian want to join the AAAAAA: the Association for the Abolition of Abused Abbreviations and Asinine Acronyms.

Bones never lie. But this. This is fucked up.

The world is ride with evil and misfortune, but it also full of good people determined to right wrongs. I would not sink into sadness. I would celebrate those who refuse to give up.

legs frantic, adrenaline firing through every fiber of my being.

Someday, after we have mastered the winds, the waves, the tides and gravity, we shall harness for good the energies of love.

was a gangly kid wearing the kind of cloche hat once favored by flappers. Birdie took to her right off. Ryan and I left them playing fetch with a red plaid mouse in the study. I transit a lot of airports. Except for baggage retrieval, which takes longer than the average fall harvest, Charlotte Douglas is perhaps my favorite.

the sternum. To confirm my skeletal estimate, I pulled the postmortem dental

The woman matched the room. Pale pastel Chanel suit. Oscar de la Renta kitten heels. Diamond the size of a Krispy Kreme donut.

I marked the extraordinary lightness of the thing. It was necessary; the weight of an ordinary bone would never have allowed something so large as a dragon to fly.

Back home, I ate Bojangles chicken with Bird and watched a rerun of 'Bones.' For some reason, the cat is nuts about Hodgins. (From Dr. Tempe Brennan in "Bones Never Lie" by Kathy Reichs. It made me chuckle!)

Even if you’re on the right track, you’ll get run over if you just sit there.” “Will Rogers,” I

In greeting, we Southerners say “hey” not “hi.” To alert, draw the attention of, or show objection to another, we also say “hey,” but air is expelled and the ending is truncated. This

There are times when all one can do is acknowledge the random futility of existing in this universe.

Bottom line? No one

The air’s okay,” Jake

the guy had a hot date

Again, I checked my rear.

Someone had collected shards of bone and brain pudding and sealed them in a Ziploc bag. The plastic sack lay in the man’s lap, as though he’d been put in charge of watching over his own brain.

Who’s there?

We tell the truth, we do not flinch

The reggae reference was lost on Slidell, whose musical taste ran to C&W and sixties rock and roll. Barrow

We've all heard of personal space, that blanket of nothing we need between ourselves and others. For me, the zone is eighteen inches. Break in, I get edgy.

I studied the brave little weed. Felt oddly buoyed. Such optimism in the face of impossible odds.

then flats of marigolds and petunias. Made of sterner stuff, I figured, their sort might survive my regime of horticultural neglect.

What would you like to hear?

I'm not afraid of going into the water. I'm afraid of not coming out. Irrational, I know. But there you have it. So why was I there, in an open boat, about to die during the mother of all storms? Fireworks. And Love.

Having no life, I’d done research the evening before, learned that the term autoerotic refers to any solitary sexual activity in which a prop, device, or apparatus is used to enhance sexual stimulation. I knew Ryan was fully aware of this.

stored

He could inspire the right-wing loony fringe to start burning crosses on the lawns of Ashkenazim and Athabascans.

And, always, I would search for the missing children.

Ain’t climate change grand?

Extremists who believe that the federal government deliberately murdered people at Ruby Ridge and Waco, and that door-to-door gun confiscation could begin any day.

Not one of God’s more intelligent creatures.” “Basically, a brain stem on two legs.

a man was describing zombies as having dead eyes, following orders, not knowing what they do, not caring. “You mean like Democrats?” Hope inquired.