Deal With Your Demons Quotes

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I won’t snatch, harm, or scare to death people with you or use checking up on you as an excuse to cause trouble. You’re worse than my mother, Rachel.” “Mine, too,” Jenks muttered.
Kim Harrison (White Witch, Black Curse (The Hollows, #7))
You are constantly told in depression that your judgment is compromised, but a part of depression is that it touches cognition. That you are having a breakdown does not mean that your life isn't a mess. If there are issues you have successfully skirted or avoided for years, they come cropping back up and stare you full in the face, and one aspect of depression is a deep knowledge that the comforting doctors who assure you that your judgment is bad are wrong. You are in touch with the real terribleness of your life. You can accept rationally that later, after the medication sets in, you will be better able to deal with the terribleness, but you will not be free of it. When you are depressed, the past and future are absorbed entirely by the present moment, as in the world of a three-year-old. You cannot remember a time when you felt better, at least not clearly; and you certainly cannot imagine a future time when you will feel better.
Andrew Solomon (The Noonday Demon: An Atlas of Depression)
I'm the one who steps from the shadows, all trenchcoat and cigarette and arrogance, ready to deal with the madness. Oh, I've got it all sewn up. I can save you. If it takes the last drop of your blood, I'll drive your demons away. I'll kick them in the bollocks and spit on them when they're down and then I'll be gone back into darkness, leaving only a nod and a wink and a wisecrack. I walk my path alone... who would walk with me?
Garth Ennis (Hellblazer: Dangerous Habits)
Are you searching for purpose? Then write something, yeah it might be worthless Then paint something then, it might be wordless Pointless curses, nonsense verses You'll see purpose start to surface No one else is dealing with your demons Meaning maybe defeating them Could be the beginning of your meaning, friend.
Twenty one pilots
Repetition is sometimes the best way to deal with the Luidaeg: just keep saying the same thing over and over until she gets fed up and gives you what you want. All preschoolers have an instinctive grasp of this concept, but most don’t practice it on immortal water demons. That’s probably why there are so few disembowelments in your average preschool.
Seanan McGuire (A Local Habitation (October Daye, #2))
I'd rather face mythological creatures or prarnormal beings then to deal with my own demons. Nothing's scarier than being alone with your thoughts.Fuck the bump in the night BS, it's the silence that does it for me.
Amanda Rose
I'll do a deal with you McFarlane," he said. "You can exist. And you can even have coffee. But if you raise your voice or make any sudden movements, I shall die. And that'll show you." Seb shrugged in return, hiding how pleased he was pretty badly. "Fair enough.
Sarah Rees Brennan (The Demon's Covenant)
Fine. You win. I quit. You two deal with this. I’m going home. Packing up all my personal items, and when you, Caleb, end up dead because the coach has your jockstrap or something else I didn’t steal but someone else did, don’t call me. I’m done and I’m going to hide in a bunker until all of this is over with.” – Nick “I hate you, Nick.” – Caleb “Feels mutual, Demon.” – Nick
Sherrilyn Kenyon (Invincible (Chronicles of Nick, #2))
I was a virgin before you. You woke a sleeping demon, Regan. I tried to sate it myself, but failed. Now you're going to deal with the consequences.
Larissa Ione (Lethal Rider (Lords of Deliverance, #3; Demonica, #8))
Tell you what,” I said, my eyebrows rising. “You can drive me home if we keep to one topic on the way.” “Your father?” he guessed, and I nodded. I was getting used to this deal-with-a-demon business.
Kim Harrison (The Good, the Bad, and the Undead (The Hollows, #2))
When you're dealing with these forces or powers in a philosophic and scientific way, contemplating them from an armchair, that rationalistic approach is useful. It is quite profitable then to regard the gods and goddesses and demons as projections of the human mind or as unconscious aspects of ourselves. But every truth is a truth only for one place and one time, and that's a truth, as I said, for the armchair. When you're actually dealing with these figures, the only safe, pragmatic and operational approach is to treat them as having a being, a will, and a purpose entirely apart from the humans who evoke them. If the Sorcerer's Apprentice had understood that, he wouldn't have gotten into so much trouble.
Robert Anton Wilson (Leviathan (Illuminatus, #3))
we never know the battles others are facing. We don’t know the demons they are hiding. Everyone you have ever met is fighting something. You may have thought no one could’ve had the kind of raw deal you were dealt in life, being ailed with a mental illness, yet the truth is, many have the same or worse problems than that of your own.
Kathryn Perez (Letters Written in White)
So you’re the demon spawn,” Finley spit out. “Finn!” Aislinn snapped. Huh. So at least one of the Brannicks hated me. Weirdly, that made me feel better. That was normal. And if there was one thing I knew how to deal with, it was Mean Girls. “I actually go by Sophie.
Rachel Hawkins (Spell Bound (Hex Hall, #3))
When he reached his own room again, he found Khloe curled up on his bed, asleep. He stood over her, watching her sleep peacefully for a few moments before taking a deep breath and moving to the other side of the bed. He sat down on top of the covers next to her and watched the rise and fall of her chest as she slept. He withdrew a leather bond journal from the nightstand drawer and tried to push Hecate’s words from his mind. Khloe is yours to deal with.
Lia Davis (Death's Storm (The Divinities, #2))
Love doesn't keep to a schedule, and it doesn't respect your time. Sometimes it shows up a year too early, when you have other obligations. Sometimes it comes bumbling through the door to announce to you it had a sweet deal hooked up for you, but it got lost on the way over and now it's gone. And once in a while, and hopefully just once because that's all you really need it to, it shows up right on time, with a dozen roses, and a box of chocolates, just as you're pulling dinner from the oven.
Killian McRae (Once You Go Demon (Pure Souls, #2))
No, not immeasurably: you have abilities, but there’s a great deal you don’t understand, because you’re a low person.
Fyodor Dostoyevsky (Demons)
Reality, at first glance, is a simple thing: the television speaking to you now is real. Your body sunk into that chair in the approach to midnight, a clock ticking at the threshold of awareness. All the endless detail of a solid and material world surrounding you. These things exist. They can be measured with a yardstick, a voltammeter, a weighing scale. These things are real. Then there’s the mind, half-focused on the TV, the settee, the clock. This ghostly knot of memory, idea and feeling that we call ourself also exists, though not within the measurable world our science may describe. Consciousness is unquantifiable, a ghost in the machine, barely considered real at all, though in a sense this flickering mosaic of awareness is the only true reality that we can ever know. The Here-and-Now demands attention, is more present to us. We dismiss the inner world of our ideas as less important, although most of our immediate physical reality originated only in the mind. The TV, sofa, clock and room, the whole civilisation that contains them once were nothing save ideas. Material existence is entirely founded on a phantom realm of mind, whose nature and geography are unexplored. Before the Age of Reason was announced, humanity had polished strategies for interacting with the world of the imaginary and invisible: complicated magic-systems; sprawling pantheons of gods and spirits, images and names with which we labelled powerful inner forces so that we might better understand them. Intellect, Emotion and Unconscious Thought were made divinities or demons so that we, like Faust, might better know them; deal with them; become them. Ancient cultures did not worship idols. Their god-statues represented ideal states which, when meditated constantly upon, one might aspire to. Science proves there never was a mermaid, blue-skinned Krishna or a virgin birth in physical reality. Yet thought is real, and the domain of thought is the one place where gods inarguably ezdst, wielding tremendous power. If Aphrodite were a myth and Love only a concept, then would that negate the crimes and kindnesses and songs done in Love’s name? If Christ were only ever fiction, a divine Idea, would this invalidate the social change inspired by that idea, make holy wars less terrible, or human betterment less real, less sacred? The world of ideas is in certain senses deeper, truer than reality; this solid television less significant than the Idea of television. Ideas, unlike solid structures, do not perish. They remain immortal, immaterial and everywhere, like all Divine things. Ideas are a golden, savage landscape that we wander unaware, without a map. Be careful: in the last analysis, reality may be exactly what we think it is.
Alan Moore
I turned to look at my quiet, bookish mother, a woman I had honestly never seen swat a fly. “I’m sorry, but there is no way you grew up here. It’s not even possible.” There was a whirring sound, and I felt something pass by my face. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mom’s hand go up, and suddenly she was holding the hilt of a knife-a knife that had apparently just been hurled at her head. The whole thing had happened in less than a second. I swallowed. “Never mind.” Mom didn’t say anything, but kept her gaze focused on Aislinn, who, I noticed, still had one hand slightly raised. She was smiling. “Grace was always the quickest of all of us,” she said, and I realized she was talking to me. Smiling at me. “Okay,” I finally said. “Well, I didn’t get that from her, in case you’re wondering. I can’t even catch a football.” Aislinn chuckled, even as Finley’s scowl deepened. “So you’re the demon spawn,” Finley spit out. “Finn!” Aislinn snapped. Huh. So at least one of the Brannicks hated me. Weirdly, that made me feel better. That was normal. And if there was one thing I knew how to deal with, it was Mean Girls. “I actually go by Sophie.
Rachel Hawkins (Spell Bound (Hex Hall, #3))
We don’t even know what’s going on in the rest of the world. All we can do is-is play Scooby-Doo in the cellar.” “That’s not all we can do, Sophie,” Archer said. Whenever Archer used my first name, I knew he was serious. “What do you mean?” He backed up a few steps. “Look, you want the Casnoffs gone and these kids saved, or at least…well, put out of their misery, I guess. You don’t want anyone to raise demons ever again. There are other people who want those things, too.” “Please tell me you are not talking about The Eye.” He looked away and shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’m just saying that you and The Eye have a common goal here.” I wasn’t sure if I was stunned, or angry, or disgusted. It was kind of a mixture of all three. “Okay, is there a gas leak down here? Or did you hit your head on the tunnel? Because that’s really the only excuse for you saying something so freaking stupid.” “Oh, you’re right, Mercer,” he said. “The idea of a trying to fight an army of demons with a bunch of trained soldiers is beyond ridiculous. Maybe we can go get Nausicaa and see if she’ll give us some faerie dust to make the problem go away.” “Don’t be a jackass,” I snapped. “Then don’t be naïve,” he retorted. “This is too big for us to handle, Sophie. This is too big for Prodigium to deal with on their own. But if we could all work together, there’s a chance that-“ “What do you think, Cross? That we’ll ask The Eye to help us, and they’ll be all, ‘Sure, no problem! And once we’re done wiping out the demons, we certainly won’t kill the rest of you, even though that’s like, our mission in life!
Rachel Hawkins (Spell Bound (Hex Hall, #3))
I’m pretty sure decapitation wouldn’t get us out of patrol.” I smiled, which earned me a glare from Finley. “I know it must be an adjustment after having faeries, or whatever, do your dirty work for you, but this is how we do things here,” she said, shoving a black backpack at me. “Please. You must never have met a faerie if you think they do anything dirty,” I replied. “We’ve met plenty of faeries,” Finley snapped, but her shoulders were up around her ears, and Izzy shot her a curious look. Whatever. I had enough family drama of my own to deal with. But then I reminded myself that technically, Izzy and Finley were my family. Demons on one side, Prodigium on the other. Was it any wonder I was so screwed up? Finley turned to face the door, which was bolted with several different locks. I watched her spin the dial on two, open another with a key she wore around her neck, ad unhook a latch at the top. “Man, I bet it takes you forever to get into your lockers,” I joked.
Rachel Hawkins (Spell Bound (Hex Hall, #3))
Mzatal gave a decisive nod. “I will manage this. It cannot continue to interfere with his work. Too much is at stake.” I raised an eyebrow. “How do you intend to manage it?” “I will tell him the truth and outline the consequences.” I was surprised Mzatal didn’t shrivel away from the look I gave him. “Dude. Seriously? You expect him to stop crushing on me because you forbid it?” Mzatal frowned, contemplative. “Perhaps not ideal given the entanglement of human emotions, though there is no time for it to drag on,” he said, as if he actually knew what he was talking about. “If he knows you have no interest and sees how his distractions have affected his work, he will subside enough for now.” My withering look became glacial. “Boss, you’re completely awesome in many ways, but you are so off-base with this it’s not even funny.” I rolled my eyes. “I’ve already ramped ‘No Interest’ up to eleven on the dial and, at this point, he doesn’t care if his work suffers.” I took a big gulp of coffee, then ran my fingers through my tangled hair. “Let me deal with it. Normally I’m not into direct confrontation with this sort of shit, but there’s isn’t enough time for it to fizzle out on its own.” Mzatal regarded me with that damned unreadable mask which he’d slipped on as I was talking. Great. Lords weren’t much on being told they were wrong, but it had to be said.
Diana Rowland (Touch of the Demon (Kara Gillian, #5))
No one — Aiden included — will break me. My early childhood didn’t and he certainly fucking wouldn’t. I just have to be smart about dealing with him. Like avoiding the shit out of him and go back to glaring from afar. I wave at my aunt and stride into the school with my head held high like usual. The taunts begin, but I don’t let them rattle me. A little voice in my head whispers at them. Run along, kids, your little pranks are nothing compared to Aiden’s depravity. Despite my pep talk this morning that gave me much needed courage, a tremor shoots down my limbs the closer I approach the class. I’ll see him again. I’ll see those demon eyes. Those sadistic smirks. That dark soul.
Rina Kent (Deviant King (Royal Elite, #1))
My eyes narrowed. He wanted me to lie for him? Minias leaned so close to the barrier of ever-after that it buzzed a harsh warning. “If you don’t, I’ll give the public what they expect.” His eyes went to the people clustered at the window. “Proof that you deal in demons ought to do wonders for your…sterling reputation.” Mmmm. There is that. 
Kim Harrison (The Outlaw Demon Wails (The Hollows, #6))
Bonding with people is an uphill battle for people dealing with rejection issues. We are always on guard, fighting our inner demons for dominance over a fragile mind. It is a vicious cycle of perpetual self-rejection. Other people have nothing to do with it. We might tag them as the problem, but in fact, you are at war with your own beliefs and insecurities.
Scott Allan (Rejection Reset: Restore Social Confidence, Reshape Your Inferior Mindset, and Thrive In a Shame-Free Lifestyle)
Maybe I broke too many hearts, maybe I crushed too many souls, maybe my own heart was too broken to give a damn about anyone else’s. Maybe the wise man was right, maybe life was like a boxing match. Tons of people cheered for you from the outside but you were alone in the ring to ght your own battles and deal with your own mess. Maybe I couldn’t deal with mine.
Nidhie Sharma (Dancing With Demons)
Because it wasn’t enough to be accompanied by the beast who scared the crap out of every god in Heaven, Xuanzang was assigned a few more traveling companions. The gluttonous pig-man Zhu Baijie. Sha Wujing, the repentant sand demon. And the Dragon Prince of the West Sea, who took the form of a horse for Xuanzang to ride. The five adventurers, thusly gathered, set off on their— “Holy ballsacks!” I yelped. I dropped the book like I’d been bitten. “How far did you get?” Quentin said. He was leaning against the end of the nearest shelf, as casually as if he’d been there the whole time, waiting for this moment. I ignored that he’d snuck up on me again, just this once. There was a bigger issue at play. In the book was an illustration of the group done up in bold lines and bright colors. There was Sun Wukong at the front, dressed in a beggar’s cassock, holding his Ruyi Jingu Bang in one hand and the reins of the Dragon Horse in the other. A scary-looking pig-faced man and a wide-eyed demon monk followed, carrying the luggage. And perched on top of the horse was . . . me. The artist had tried to give Xuanzang delicate, beatific features and ended up with a rather girly face. By whatever coincidence, the drawing of Sun Wukong’s old master could have been a rough caricature of sixteen-year-old Eugenia Lo from Santa Firenza, California. “That’s who you think I am?” I said to Quentin. “That’s who I know you are,” he answered. “My dearest friend. My boon companion. You’ve reincarnated into such a different form, but I’d recognize you anywhere. Your spiritual energies are unmistakable.” “Are you sure? If you’re from a long time ago, maybe your memory’s a little fuzzy.” “The realms beyond Earth exist on a different time scale,” Quentin said. “Only one day among the gods passes for every human year. To me, you haven’t been gone long. Months, not centuries.” “This is just . . . I don’t know.” I took a moment to assemble my words. “You can’t walk up to me and expect me to believe right away that I’m the reincarnation of some legendary monk from a folk tale.” “Wait, what?” Quentin squinted at me in confusion. “I said you can’t expect me to go, ‘okay, I’m Xuanzang,’ just because you tell me so.” Quentin’s mouth opened slowly like the dawning of the sun. His face went from confusion to understanding to horror and then finally to laughter. “mmmmphhhhghAHAHAHAHA!” he roared. He nearly toppled over, trying to hold his sides in. “HAHAHAHA!” “What the hell is so funny?” “You,” Quentin said through his giggles. “You’re not Xuanzang. Xuanzang was meek and mild. A friend to all living things. You think that sounds like you?” It did not. But then again I wasn’t the one trying to make a case here. “Xuanzang was delicate like a chrysanthemum.” Quentin was getting a kick out of this. “You are so tough you snapped the battleaxe of the Mighty Miracle God like a twig. Xuanzang cried over squashing a mosquito. You, on the other hand, have killed more demons than the Catholic Church.” I was starting to get annoyed. “Okay, then who the hell am I supposed to be?” If he thought I was the pig, then this whole deal was off. “You’re my weapon,” he said. “You’re the Ruyi Jingu Bang.” I punched Quentin as hard as I could in the face.
F.C. Yee (The Epic Crush of Genie Lo (The Epic Crush of Genie Lo, #1))
"If it's a outside deal, how will I get my kids back?" Kit asked. "The Cabals have them." Chloe and Derek's heads both whipped Kit's way. "You're considering this?" Chloe said. "I can get them," Dr. Inglis said. "We'll take Corey now, as a gesture of good faith from you. Then I will take Daniel for your son and Maya for your daughter." "Dad?" Derek said. Kit didn't answer him. He didn't even look over. Chloe looked from us to Kit, her blue eyes wide. "Y-you c-can't—" Derek leaped to his feet. "I won't let you do this, Dad. These kids came to you for help." I gaped at Derek. Even Chloe looked confused. I might have known the guy for less than twenty-four hours, but short of demonic possession, I couldn't imagine him saying that.
Kelley Armstrong (The Rising (Darkness Rising, #3))
FEBRUARY 16 UNDERSTAND MY POWER AND AUTHORITY I USE ORDINARY people to accomplish My purposes. Your ability to overcome in spiritual warfare comes from My power and authority. Do not base your faith on how you feel; base your faith on My Word. I have given you the legal right to use the name of My Son, Jesus. His name is above every other name. Authority in His name is recognized by the enemy. You will be able to cast out demons in His name. You can bind the works of darkness in His name. Through His name, and in the power you will receive from My Holy Spirit, you will be able to do exceedingly abundantly according to the power that operates through you. Fear not; prepare to engage the enemy. EPHESIANS 6:10–12; LUKE 10:19; ACTS 1:8 Prayer Declaration Father, through Your power and authority I will confront the powers of darkness. In Your Son’s name I will defeat Satan and all his demonic warriors. You have given me the ability to endure and withstand hardship, adversity, and stress. I will be persistent in dealing with the enemy, and because of who I am in You I will be victorious.
John Eckhardt (Daily Declarations for Spiritual Warfare: Biblical Principles to Defeat the Devil)
I pulled Slayer from its sheath and pushed the door open with my fingertips. It swung soundlessly on well-greased hinges. Through the hallway, I saw the living room lamp glowing with soothing yellow light. I smelled coffee. Who breaks into a house, turns on the lights, and makes coffee? I padded into the living room on soft feet, Slayer ready. “Loud and clumsy, like a baby rhino,” said a familiar voice. I stepped into the living room. Curran sat on my couch, reading my favorite paperback. His hair was back to its normal short length. His face was clean shaven. He looked nothing like the dark, demonic figure who shook a would-be god’s head on a field a month ago. I thought he had forgotten about me. I had been quite happy to stay forgotten. “The Princess Bride?” he said, flipping the book over. “What are you doing in my house?” Let himself in, had he? Made himself comfortable, as if he owned the place. “Did everything go well with Julie?” “Yes. She didn’t want to stay, but she’ll make friends quickly, and the staff seems sensible.” I watched him, not quite sure where we stood. “I meant to tell you but haven’t gotten a chance. Sorry about Bran. I didn’t like him, but he died well.” “Yes, he did. I’m sorry about your people. Many losses?” A shadow darkened his face. “A third.” He had taken a hundred with him. At least thirty people had never come back. The weight of their deaths pressed on both of us. Curran turned the book over in his hands. “You own words of power.” He knew what a word of power was. Lovely. I shrugged. “Picked up a couple here and there. What happened in the Gap was a one shot deal. I won’t be that powerful again.” At least not until the next flare. “You’re an interesting woman,” he said. “Your interest has been duly noted.” I pointed to the door. He put the book down. “As you wish.” He rose and walked past me. I lowered my sword, expecting him to pass, but suddenly he stepped in dangerously close. “Welcome home. I’m glad you made it. There is coffee in the kitchen for you.” My mouth gaped open. He inhaled my scent, bent close, about to kiss me . . . I just stood there like an idiot. Curran smirked and whispered in my ear instead. “Psych.” And just like that, he was out the door and gone. Oh boy.
Ilona Andrews (Magic Burns (Kate Daniels, #2))
Tub full, she stood back to regard the mound of ice. Already the heat of her home fought to melt it. A rap came again at the entrance, more like an impatient pounding, and she cursed. The clock showed her only a few minutes away from her torture. I need whoever it is to go away. She ran to the door and slid open the peek-a-boo slot. Familiar turquoise eyes peered back. “Little witch, little witch, let me come in,” he chanted in a gruff voice. A smile curled her lips. “Not by the wart on my chinny chin chin,” she replied. “And before you try huffing and puffing, Nefertiti herself spelled this door. So forget blowing it down.” “So open it then. I’ve got a lead I think on escapee number three.” A glance at the clock showed one minute left. “Um, I’m kind of in the middle of something. Can you come back in like half an hour?” “Why not just let me in and I’ll wait while you do your thing? I promise not to watch, unless you like an audience.” “I can’t. Please. Just go away. I promise I’ll let you in when you come back.” His eyes narrowed. “Open this door, Ysabel.” “No. Now go away. I’ll talk to you in half an hour.” She slammed the slot shut and only allowed herself a moment to lean against the door which shuddered as he hit it with a fist. She didn’t have time to deal with his frustration. The tickle in her toes started and she ran to the bathroom, dropping her robe as she moved. The fire erupted, and standing on the lava tile in her bathroom, she concentrated on breathing against the spiraling pain and flames. I mustn’t scream. Remy might still be there, listening. Why that mattered, she couldn’t have said, but it did help her focus for a short moment. But the punishment would not allow her respite. Flames licked up her frame, demolishing her thin underpants and she couldn’t help but scream as the agony tore through her body. Make it stop. Make it stop. Wishing, praying, pleading didn’t stop the torture. As the inferno consumed her, her ears roared with the snap of the fire and a glance in her mirror horrified her, for there she stood – a living pyre of fire. She closed her eyes against the brilliant heat, but that just seemed to amplify the pain. Her knees buckled, but she didn’t fall. Something clasped her and she moaned as she sensed more than saw Remy’s arms wrap around her waist. It had to be him. Who else was crazy enough to break down her door and interrupt? Forcing open her eyes, eyes that wanted to water but couldn’t as the heat dried up all moisture, she saw the flames, not picky about their choice her own nightmare, she knew enough to try and push him away with hands that glowed inferno bright. He wouldn’t budge, and he didn’t scream – just held her as the curse ran its course. Without being told, once the flames disappeared, he placed her in the ice bath, the shocking cold a welcome relief. Gasping from the pain, she couldn’t speak but remained aware of how he stroked her hair back from her face and how his arm rested around her shoulders, cradling her. “Oh, my poor little witch,” he murmured. “No wonder you’ve been hiding.” Teeth chattering as the cold penetrated her feverish limbs, she tried to reply. “Wh-what c-c-can I say? I’m h-h-hot.” -Remy & Ysabel
Eve Langlais (A Demon and His Witch (Welcome to Hell, #1))
You’ve seen what this drug can do. I assure you it is just the beginning. If jurda parem is unleashed on the world, war is inevitable. Our trade lines will be destroyed, and our markets will collapse. Kerch will not survive it. Our hopes rest with you, Mister Brekker. If you fail, all the world will suffer for it.” “Oh, it’s worse than that, Van Eck. If I fail, I don’t get paid.” The look of disgust on the merch’s face was something that deserved its own DeKappel oil to commemorate it. “Don’t look so disappointed. Just think how miserable you would have been to discover this canal rat had a patriotic streak. You might actually have had to uncurl that lip and treat me with something closer to respect.” “Thank you for sparing me that discomfort,” Van Eck said disdainfully. He opened the door, then paused. “I do wonder what a boy of your intelligence might have amounted to under different circumstances.” Ask Jordie, Kaz thought with a bitter pang. But he simply shrugged. “I’d just be stealing from a better class of sucker. Thirty million kruge.” Van Eck nodded. “Thirty. The deal is the deal.” “The deal is the deal,” Kaz said. They shook. As Van Eck’s neatly manicured hand clasped Kaz’s leather-clad fingers, the merch narrowed his eyes. “Why do you wear the gloves, Mister Brekker?” Kaz raised a brow. “I’m sure you’ve heard the stories.” “Each more grotesque than the last.” Kaz had heard them, too. Brekker’s hands were stained with blood. Brekker’s hands were covered in scars. Brekker had claws and not fingers because he was part demon. Brekker’s touch burned like brimstone—a single brush of his bare skin caused your flesh to wither and die. “Pick one,” Kaz said as he vanished into the night, thoughts already turning to thirty million kruge and the crew he’d need to help him get it. “They’re all true enough.
Leigh Bardugo (Six of Crows (Six of Crows, #1))
Yet the homogeneity of contemporary humanity is most apparent when it comes to our view of the natural world and of the human body. If you fell sick a thousand years ago, it mattered a great deal where you lived. In Europe, the resident priest would probably tell you that you had made God angry and that in order to regain your health you should donate something to the church, make a pilgrimage to a sacred site, and pray fervently for God’s forgiveness. Alternatively, the village witch might explain that a demon had possessed you and that she could cast it out using song, dance, and the blood of a black cockerel. In the Middle East, doctors brought up on classical traditions might explain that your four bodily humors were out of balance and that you should harmonize them with a proper diet and foul-smelling potions. In India, Ayurvedic experts would offer their own theories concerning the balance between the three bodily elements known as doshas and recommend a treatment of herbs, massages, and yoga postures. Chinese physicians, Siberian shamans, African witch doctors, Amerindian medicine men—every empire, kingdom, and tribe had its own traditions and experts, each espousing different views about the human body and the nature of sickness, and each offering their own cornucopia of rituals, concoctions, and cures. Some of them worked surprisingly well, whereas others were little short of a death sentence. The only thing that united European, Chinese, African, and American medical practices was that everywhere at least a third of all children died before reaching adulthood, and average life expectancy was far below fifty.14 Today, if you happen to be sick, it makes much less difference where you live. In Toronto, Tokyo, Tehran, or Tel Aviv, you will be taken to similar-looking hospitals, where you will meet doctors in white coats who learned the same scientific theories in the same medical colleges. They will follow identical protocols and use identical tests to reach very similar diagnoses. They will then dispense the same medicines produced by the same international drug companies. There are still some minor cultural differences, but Canadian, Japanese, Iranian, and Israeli physicians hold much the same views about the human body and human diseases. After the Islamic State captured Raqqa and Mosul, it did not tear down the local hospitals. Rather, it launched an appeal to Muslim doctors and nurses throughout the world to volunteer their services there.15 Presumably even Islamist doctors and nurses believe that the body is made of cells, that diseases are caused by pathogens, and that antibiotics kill bacteria.
Yuval Noah Harari (21 Lessons for the 21st Century)
By the time Jessica Buchanan was kidnapped in Somalia on October 25, 2011, the twenty-four boys back in America who had been so young during the 1993 attack on the downed American aid support choppers in Mogadishu had since grown to manhood. Now they were between the ages of twenty-three and thirty-five, and each one had become determined to qualify for the elite U.S. Navy unit called DEVGRU. After enlisting in the U.S. Navy and undergoing their essential basic training, every one of them endured the challenges of BUDS (Basic Underwater Demolition/SEAL) training, where the happy goal is to become “drownproofed” via what amounts to repeated semidrowning, while also learning dozens of ways to deliver explosive death and demolition. This was only the starting point. Once qualification was over and the candidates were sworn in, three-fourths of the qualified Navy SEALS who tried to also qualify for DEVGRU dropped out. Those super-warriors were overcome by the challenges, regardless of their peak physical condition and being in the prime of their lives. This happened because of the intensity of the training. Long study and practice went into developing a program specifically designed to seek out and expose any individual’s weakest points. If the same ordeals were imposed on captured terrorists who were known to be guilty of killing innocent civilians, the officers in charge would get thrown in the brig. Still, no matter how many Herculean physical challenges are presented to a DEVGRU candidate, the brutal training is primarily mental. It reveals each soldier’s principal foe to be himself. His mortal fears and deepest survival instinct emerge time after time as the essential demons he must overcome. Each DEVGRU member must reach beyond mere proficiency at dealing death. He must become two fighters combined: one who is trained to a state of robotic muscle memory in specific dark skills, and a second who is fluidly adaptive, using an array of standard SEAL tactics. Only when he can live and work from within this state of mind will he be trusted to pursue black operations in every form of hostile environment. Therefore the minority candidate who passes into DEVGRU becomes a member of the “Tier One” Special Mission Unit. He will be assigned to reconnaissance or assault, but his greatest specialty will always be to remain lethal in spite of rapidly changing conditions. From the day he is accepted into that elite tribe, he embodies what is delicately called “preemptive and proactive counterterrorist operations.” Or as it might be more bluntly described: Hunt them down and kill them wherever they are - and is possible, blow up something. Each one of that small percentage who makes it through six months of well-intended but malicious torture emerges as a true human predator. If removing you from this world becomes his mission, your only hope of escaping a DEVGRU SEAL is to find a hiding place that isn’t on land, on the sea, or in the air.
Anthony Flacco (Impossible Odds: The Kidnapping of Jessica Buchanan and Her Dramatic Rescue by SEAL Team Six)
His finger pressed my lips to silence me. “So, tell me, my beautiful, little demon, how does it feel? Did you enjoy seducing Caleb to get what you wanted? Or were you so enraptured by the green of his eyes that you longed for his tongue in your mouth and his hands on your body?” I gasped, but he went on before I could respond. “Truthfully, I’d prefer the former, because it would mean since he’s bailed on the deal, I’m the only one left to help you. I must warn you, however, it’s going to take a whole lot of seduction to get me to help you now.
L.J. Kentowski (Seeker of Fate (Fate, #2))
you should not seek transcendence as a means of escapism. Remember van Eeden’s demon-dreams. You must first be willing to deal with whatever problems you may find on your personal level.
Stephen LaBerge (Lucid Dreaming: A Concise Guide to Awakening in Your Dreams and in Your Life)
Conversation between two Centennials of the Institute, in connection with a third not present: — “I would gladly come to your house for a chat, if I did not suspect that Ramus were likewise invited.” — “But what is so wrong with Ramus? He often amuses me.” — “He is a fungus, a flatulence, a pompous old toad, and he irritates me vastly.” Question occasionally put to Fellows of the Institute: Are Star Kings included among the fellowship? The customary answer: We certainly hope not. MOTTO OF THE INSTITUTE: A little knowledge is a dangerous thing; a great deal of knowledge is disaster, which detractors of the Institute scornfully paraphrase to: Somebody else’s ignorance is bliss.
Jack Vance (Demon Princes)
Maya’s point is that Hayley, Nicole, and Serena shared common characteristics, which probably means they’re the same type, and it has something to do with singing and swimming.” “And being pretty,” Hayley said. “That’s not a superpower,” Sam muttered. Hayley turned to her. “No? How many times have you gotten into movies for free because you’re a tough warrior chick?” “What about me?” Corey said. “What’s my superpower?” Silence fell. “Oh, come on. I’m good at a lot of stuff. Right?” More silence. “You’re cute,” Hayley said. “Well, cute enough.” “Fun to be around,” I offered. “So I’m…a clown?” “At least you’re a cute clown,” Hayley said. “Not a scary one.” “You’re a good fighter,” Daniel said. “And you’re a good drinker,” Hayley added. “You can hold your liquor better than anyone I know.” “Uh-huh,” Corey said. “So Maya will grow up to be an amazing healer who can change into a killer cat. Daniel and Sam will roam the country hunting criminals and demons. Hayley and Nicole will divide their time between recording platinum albums and winning gold medals in swimming. And me? I’ll be the cute, funny guy sitting at the bar, hoping for a good brawl to break out.” “In other words, exactly where you were already headed,” Hayley said. We all laughed at that, even Corey. We had to. For now, this was the best way to deal with it. Tease. Poke fun. As if we were comparing Halloween costumes. Look, I’m a superhero. Yeah? Well, so am I. “I’m sure you have powers,” I said. “You’re just a late bloomer.” “Thanks…I think.
Kelley Armstrong (The Calling (Darkness Rising, #2))
If you really want to help, then be extra vigilant. Be aware of your surroundings, watch for anyone acting strangely. Stay away from them and let us know.” “He’s right.” I said. “I couldn’t deal with it if something happened to either of you two.” “Nothing will.” Sam shot Stacey a look. “We’ll stay out of it, but if you need our help, we’ll be there for you.” “Like the Scooby-Doo gang,” Stacey said with a smile. “But cooler and without the dog.” She paused, wrinkling her nose. “We have a giant demon snake instead.
Jennifer L. Armentrout (Stone Cold Touch (The Dark Elements, #2))
The peace and the eventual victory-beyond-hopelessness that I gained were through no achievement of my great faith. When you’re down on your back, when everything of your circumstance is surrounded by darkness, and when the voice seeking to capture your attention sneers against God and seeks to smash your soul with despair—it’s at those moments we’re called to remember another Voice. It’s the voice of Jesus, calling us from the other side of His Cross, where He experienced everything that pain, suffering, hopelessness, hate, death and hell could deal Him. And He’s saying, “Call on Me—I know the way through Fridays like yours, and I will bring you through!” There is hope—for any and every hopeless day. We each need not only to listen to His call but also to understand the pathway He has carved beyond hopelessness and unto hope. So I invite you to join me in listening to His voice as Jesus lives through a bad day—indeed, not only through the worst day in His life, but also the ultimate worst day that humans or demons could ever conspire to work.
Jack W. Hayford (Hope for a Hopeless Day: Encouragement and Inspiration When You Need it Most)
Help me,” Stefano added earnestly. “In return, I’ll help you. I’ll guard you and your family until every single one of the Lords is dead. Those demons will never hurt you again. You have my word of honor.” To know her family was safe and would remain safe…She wouldn’t have cared about the terms of the deal even if she had to sign her soul over to the devil. The hope that Stefano could help her mother and sister was irresistible. The thought of revenge was overwhelming. “What do I have to do?
Gena Showalter (The Darkest Pleasure (Lords of the Underworld, #3))
I stared at Jim in horror, my skin crawling. “A Guardian banished me. Me! But I’m a Guardian. Can we banish each other? Oh, crap!” Jim nodded. “You’re not just a Guardian, you’re a Guardian Plus! Now with extra ‘prince of Abaddon’ cleaning power.” I’d like to point out—the dark power’s voice started to say. “I have enough on my plate right now!” I snapped at it. The voice sulked into silence. “Yeah, well, you may just have to deal with it,” Jim said, moseying over to where I’d been standing. “What were you looking for?” “I can’t believe another Guardian banished me just because I happen to be a prince of Abaddon. There should be some rule about not banishing demon lords who are also Guardians.” Jim cocked an eyebrow. “Like you think this is a normal situation?” “Normal? I don’t even know what’s normal anymore,” I fumed, marching around the room while wringing my hands. “And now look, I’m wringing my hands. Have you ever known me to be a hand-wringer? I detest the sort of woman who wrings her hands! It signifies weakness, and lack of coherence, and a totally unprofessional attitude!” “And if we know anything about you, it’s that you’re a professional, and you’re confident,” Jim said, nosing a spot on the floor. “Damn straight I am!” I yelled, forcing my hands apart so they couldn’t wring themselves. “Look, they’re trying to do it again. It’s like my hands are possessed or something! Dear god, it’s the dark power. The dark power has taken over my hands and is trying to wring me into insanity!” “Is this little drama going to take long? ’Cause if it is, I want popcorn and a Diet Coke with extra ice.” “You’re not going to like where I put the popcorn and extra ice,” I said, ignoring my possessed hands to glare at the demon with much intent. Jim’s eyes widened as it backed away. “You’ve got that evil, slightly insane look down pat. Have you been practicing? We’re talking seriously scary, Ash. Hannibal-Lecter-has-nothing-on-you sort of scary.” “Enough banter from you, buster,” I said, trying to pull myself together. “Let’s go over this situation again calmly. One: the dark power has taken over my hands.” I have not! “Not listening! Two: there is a Guardian out there who can banish me at will. Which means that every other Guardian can probably do the same. Lovely. Just what I need—more people trying to do me in.” I slumped down into a chair and thought seriously about crying, but dropped that thought when my hands crept to ward each other.
Katie MacAlister (Holy Smokes (Aisling Grey, #4))
Everyone is dealing with their own demons and problems on a planet that's moving at 67,000 miles an hour while rotating at 1000 miles an hour hanging in the space! Try to forgive your enemies.
Mandeep Khera
I want you to feel what it’s like to be scared, pushed, cold, sluggish, whispered to, creeped out, and touched by an ethereal being or a demonic spirit. It’s not like trying to pinpoint the cause of a knock in your bathroom in the middle of the night. The feeling is oppressive, heavy, sometimes evil, magnetic, and even addictive. I want you to know what your body goes through when the flight instinct tells you to run and the intense emotional struggle you can go through when you try to ignore it. When you’re already amped up, physically and psychologically, simple noises seem much greater than they are. You don’t just hear them—you feel the shockwave from them as well and have to train yourself to deal with them appropriately. It’s a lifestyle that takes years to adjust to and I want to pass on those emotions and experiences.
Zak Bagans (Dark World: Into the Shadows with the Lead Investigator of the Ghost Adventures Crew)
You can’t face Life when you are running away from it. And only through facing Life do you find solutions and discover Happiness despite the circumstances. What you run away from, always comes chasing you, hunting you down…and so, turn around and face your fears, your demons. Don’t fight Life, face it! Any fight causes friction and acrimony. But turning around and facing a situation means telling Life, “This is me, I am going nowhere, let’s deal with this…!” Then, invariably, Life’s ferocity diminishes. Your problems still persist, but they don’t haunt you anymore, they teach you and mold you into who you are meant to be!!
AVIS Viswanathan
I don’t want to die.” I say, defiantly. “Bright Side, what?” He’s confused. Of course he’s confused. No one starts a conversation like that. I repeat, “I don’t want to fucking die.” “Oh, shit, Bright Side.” I hear him take a deep breath, a primer for the conversationthat’s about to unfold. “Talk to me. What’s going on?” “I’m fucking dying, Gus. I don’t want to die. That’s what’s fucking going on.” I hit the steering wheel with my palms. “Goddammit!” I scream... Gus doesn’t deserve this, but I know he’ll deal with it better than anyone else would. “Calm down, dude. Where are you?” “I don’t know. I’m sitting in my car in a fucking parking garage in the middle of motherfucking Minneapolis, Minnesota.” That was hostile. “Are you by yourself?” “Yes,” I snap. “You’re not supposed to be driving while you’re on your pain meds.” I don’t want his fatherly tone. “I know that.” “Are you in danger or hurt?” I burst out laughing, surprised that I can’t even laugh without sounding angry. The question is absurd to me though. I’m dying. “Bright Side, shut up for a second and talk to me. Do I need to call 911? What the fuck is going on?” He sounds scared. I shake my head like he can see me. “No, no. I’m just ... I’m fucking mad, Gus. That’s all.” And at a loss for words because my mind is jumbled up into this bitter, resentful ball. I don’t know what else to say so I repeat myself. “I’m really fucking mad.” “Well shit, by all means, there’s plenty of room at my table for anger.” He gets it. That’s why I called him, after all. “I’ve been dishing out heaping servings of fury for the past month. I feel better knowing I’m not the only one in this whole debacle with some rage issues. So fire away. Fucking give it to me.” I do. An explosive, steady stream of expletives flows out of me. I’m cursing it all, shouting out questions, pounding the steering wheel, and wiping away hot, angry tears. Occasionally Gus joins in, yelling affirmations. Sometimes he waits for a pause on my part and takes his turn and sometimes he just steamrolls over the top of me... Eventually, my tears stop, and I’m able to take normal breaths. My throat feels tight and my head hurts a little, but I’m calm. On the other end of the line, Gus gets quiet, too. Silence falls between us... My voice is raspy when I decide to break the silence. “Gus?” “Yeah, Bright Side.” He sounds like himself again. Calm. “Thanks.” I feel like a huge weight has been lifted off of me. And now I need to apologize. “Sorry, dude.” He laughs. “No worries. You feel better?” I can actually smile now. “Yeah, I really do.” “Good, me too. I think we should’ve done this weeks ago.” “I think I should’ve done it months ago.” I mean it. It felt so good to let it all out. “Bright Side, you know I love you all happy and adorable in your little world of sunshine and rainbows, but you’re kinda hot when you’re angry. I dig aggressive chicks. And that was crazy aggressive.” He knows I’m going to say it, but I can’t help myself. “Whatever.” I even roll my eyes. “I think I’m gonna rename you Demon Seed.” “What? I show you my dark side and now I have to be the fucking antichrist? I don’t like that. Why can’t I just be Angry Bitch?” He laughs hard and my heart swellsbecause I haven’t heard this laugh out of Gus in a month. And I love this laugh. “Well dude, since it seems my therapysession has wrapped up, I’d better get going. I need to get home.” “Sure. Drive slowly and text me when you get there so I know you made it. And no more driving after this trip.” “Yes sir. I love you, Gus.” “Love you, too, Angry Bitch,” his voice low and dramatic. He pauses because he knows I’m not going to hang up to that. “I was just trying it out,” he says innocently.
Kim Holden (Bright Side (Bright Side, #1))
Rhiannon’s Law #101: Never make a deal with a demon. They are evil bastards that will screw your ass over and send you back to the future. Where the hell did Doc park the DeLorean?
J.A. Saare (Dead, Undead, or Somewhere in Between (Rhiannon's Law, #1))
APRIL 15 BREAK AND DIVIDE EVERY DEMONIC CONFEDERACY I WILL NOT be silent when those who hate me have lifted up their heads and taken crafty counsel against My people. They have consulted together against My children and put a confederacy in place to cut you off so that you will be remembered no more. I will deal with them as I dealt with the enemies of the Israelites, and they will become refuse on the earth. They will be like the whirling dust and the chaff that blows before the wind. I will cause them to confounded and dismayed forever, and I will put them to shame that they may perish. For My name alone is the Lord, and I am the Most High over all the earth. PSALM 83 Prayer Declaration Father, I break and divide every demonic confederacy against my life in the name of Jesus, and I loose confusion into every demonic confederacy directed against my life, family, and church. Persecute them with Your tempest, and make them afraid of Your terrible storm. Let them be confounded and troubled forever. Let them be confused and attack each other until they perish.
John Eckhardt (Daily Declarations for Spiritual Warfare: Biblical Principles to Defeat the Devil)
Many leaders in the church do not want to deal with things that relate to the devil.
Kimberly Daniels (The Demon Dictionary Volume One: Know Your Enemy. Learn His Strategies. Defeat Him!: 1)
Consuming yourself with the attempts to understand why anyone else does what they do , is a waste . This, then ,allows no extra time for you to deal with your own demons. You can never change anyone but yourself, so concentrate your efforts on that instead.
Christine E. Szymanski
People that are all different kinds of negative, are dealing with their own demons, which have nothing to do with you. So don't take it personally and internalize it as your own. Hopefully, they will come to terms with their troubles, but you can't control that.
Christine E. Szymanski
People that are all different kinds of negative, are dealing with their own demons, which have nothing to do with you. So don't take it personally and internalize it as your own. Hopefully, they will come to terms with their troubles, but you can't control that either.
Christine E. Szymanski
Here are other tools Father Ripperger recommended against the demonic: 1. Consecrate all things to Our Lady and be specific. All things are family, friends, work, all tasks, and projects. 2. Pray before every encounter. 3. Pray the Seven Sorrows Devotion and the Rosary, and ask Our Lady to reveal what is keeping the person you’re praying for from her Son, Jesus. This will protect your family. Our Lady, through this devotion, will reveal things to you as a way of grace. 4. Pray the binding prayer below. All demons are afraid of any authority or command in Jesus’ name. In the name of the Lord Jesus Christ of Nazareth, by the power of His cross, His blood and His resurrection, I bind you Satan, the spirits, powers and forces of darkness, the nether world, and the evil forces of nature. I take authority over all curses, hexes, demonic activity and spells directed against me, my relationships, ministry endeavors, finances, and the work of my hands; and I break them by the power and authority of the risen Lord Jesus Christ. I stand with the power of the Lord God Almighty to bind all demonic interaction, interplay and communications between spirits sent against me, and send them directly to Jesus Christ for Him to deal with as He wills. I ask forgiveness for and renounce all negative inner vows that I have made with the enemy, and ask that Jesus Christ release me from these vows and from any bondage they may have held in me. I claim the shed blood of Jesus Christ, the Son of the living God, over every aspect of my life for my protection. Amen. 5. Have Masses said for your intention or for a person while they are alive.  6. Pray and fast for the person in question.
Andrew Lavallee (When You Fast: Jesus Has Provided The Solution)
My mother taught me to never make deals with demons” “Your mother sounds very uncreative...
Nicholas Woode-Smith