Camden Lock Quotes

I'm going to need help, and I need someone who is fearless. Someone who isn't afraid to stand up to dragons and battle them day after day. Our results may not show promise for years. Our patients will die. There will be days when you feel so beaten down you'll want to crawl home and give up. But I'll need you to get up, dust yourself off, and be ready to wage battle the next day." He locked eyes with her. "I need someone who wants to win as badly as I do. That is why I want you for this job.

There had been an attempt over the summer to mix that Camden Lock lot with this Caldwell lot, but Keisha Blake did not especially care for Baudelaire or Bukowski or Nick Drake or Sonic Youth or Joy Division or boys who looked like girls or vice versa or Anne Rice or William Burroughs of Kafka's Metamorphosis or CND or Glastonbury or the Situationists or Breathless or Samuel Beckett or Andy Warhol or a million other Camden things, and when Keisha brought a wondrous Monie Love 7-inch to play on Leah's hi-fi there was something awful in the way Leah blushed and conceded it was probably OK to dance to. They had only Prince left, and he was wearing thin.

That reminds me, does Professor Camden know that you copied his house key yet?" "Yeah, he already took the first copy back," Everly replies and continues making her drink. I have to set my latte down at that point. I should know better than to have a conversation with Everly while drinking hot liquids. "The first copy, Everly?" "Yeah. And he didn't even ask me for the second copy." She takes a sip of her drink. "I'm kind of pissed off about it, to be honest. It's like he doesn't even know me, right?" I nod slowly. "Right." "Obviously I would make three copies. Anyone should know that." I lean against the back counter and nod. "Obviously." Honestly, I have no idea how many copies one would make when stealing someone's house key, but it's best to just go along when Everly is on a roll. "I expect him to change his locks once I use the second key so the third key is likely useless, but he should know me well enough to ask for the second key." She sighs, looking truly despondent.

You’ve dated a shoplifter. A drug addict. A girl who claimed that her roommate kept her locked in a dumpster. She was admitted to Mulberry not too long ago, if I recall, right? They diagnosed her with schizophrenia.” Reece nodded reluctantly. “For the record, I only dated her for two months. And also for the record, she’s doing a lot better.” “Hmm,” Camden replied. “There’s the one who put salt on all her food then complained incessantly of bloating problems. Oh yeah! And the one who wanted you to tie her up and beat the shit out of her every night.” “All right already!” Reece snapped. “I get it. I haven’t had the best of luck with normal women.

There was a pause, and she looked over at him, surprised that he stopped barking out orders long enough to draw a breath. “Don’t go,” he whispered. “Please don’t go, Kate.” The plea was so soft she barely heard it, but it sliced her to shreds. If Nurse Ackerman hadn’t been standing a few feet away, Kate would have wept. Instead, she swallowed hard so that the tears wouldn’t leak into her voice. “Hold it together, McDonough,” she said softly. Never had she seen a man keep a volcanic flood of emotion so tightly locked inside, yet any attempt to comfort him would merely prolong their agony. Trevor knew exactly what he needed to do to keep her with him. And it broke her heart to know he never would.

Honestly, if anyone could see the inner workings of her mind, she’d be locked up in a lunatic asylum. She’d never been clobbered with an adolescent infatuation, and her attraction to Romulus was equal parts thrilling and mortifying.

Sometimes unhappy people were like that. It was easier to remain locked in their fortress of discontent rather than risk the pain associated with emerging into the light of day.