F. Paul Wilson Quotes

If you come to a fight thinking it will be a fair one, you didn't come prepared.

Can a man who lies, cheats, steals, and sometimes does violence to other people be a man of honor? Kolabati looked into his eyes. "He can if he lies to liars, cheats cheaters, steals from thieves, and limits his violence to those who are violent.

Reality is what trips you up when you walk around with your eyes closed.

War, hate, jealousy, racism - what are they but manifestations of fear?

Jesus paid for our sins, so let's get our money's worth.

Your believing or not believing in karma has no effect on its existence, nor on its consequences to you. Just as a refusal to believe in the ocean would not prevent you from drowning.

The horror had begun.

The acronym was derived from the title of the first book--a pamphlet, really-- in which Khyfo was expounded, a supposedly scatalogical phase that meant 'Don't Touch'... The title was Keep Your Fucking Hands Off. Mean anything to you? Not a thing. Nor to me. But it supposedly summed up their philosophy pretty well at the time.

The chief thing is desire. You've really got to want to do it, you've really got to want to tell that story. And you have to be able to set goals for yourself to get it done.

Oh, how this sucked. This sucked so thoroughly. It was hard to even quantify the level of suck involved here.

Milo remembered an old saying his father used to quote to him when he was a boy: Beware the wrath of a patient man.

Among the writers he was reading when he wrote these stories in the 1950s—and he was reading all the time, all kinds of books, dozens and dozens of them—were David Riesman, Saul Bellow, Bernard Malamud, John Cheever, James Baldwin, Randall Jarrell, Sigmund Freud, Paul Goodman, William Styron, C. Wright Mills, Martin Buber, George Orwell, Suzanne Langer, F. R. Leavis, David Daiches, Edmund Wilson, Alfred Kazin, Ralph Ellison, Erich Fromm, Joseph Conrad, Dylan Thomas, Sean O’Casey, e. e. cummings—who collectively represented a republic of discourse in which he aspired to

And if you show me a mathematical formula, all you are showing me is a piece of paper with strange markings on it, and I have no way of knowing not only whether the markings are actually there, but whether the piece of paper exists.

There must be no bloodshed, no violence unless it is defensive, no coercion! We must do it our way and our way alone! To do otherwise is to betray centuries of hardship and struggle. Above all else Kyfho. Forget Kyfho in your pursuit of victory over the enemy, and you will become the enemy...worse than the enemy because he doesn't know he is capable of anything better.

He isn’t a government or an army. He’s a guy. No matter what you think of any particular war, you’ve got to feel something for some poor guy ripped out of his life and handed a gun and sent somewhere to kill other guys who’ve been ripped out of their lives and sent to do the same thing, and while they’re both shivering in their foxholes, scared they’re not going to see another sunrise, all the fat cats, all the generals and politicos and priests and mullahs and tribal elders who started the whole damn thing, sit way to the rear, moving their chess pieces around.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder as he took a breath. “He got handed the dirty end of a dirty stick but he handled it. You’ve got to respect that.

Tim pressed a finger to his lips.  "Careful, my friend.  The walls may have ears.

Jack had begun thinking of his imaginary client as a real person, so he didn't have to fake being indignant. - Legacies

It's an ethical position. Baiting a hook, or using those flashing little spinners to catch fish, it's deceitful. - Legacies

A brilliant guy, but definitely a few kinks in his Slinky.

What about compassion? 

I will.” They both knew that was a lie, but Jack was doing

I always say that Religion and Politics are just clever ways to make un-content people content with their un-contentedness.

Those who can make you believe absurdities can make you commit atrocities.

You are not expected to. You are not capable of it. I am beyond your experience." Cuza

There can be no coexistence with monsters'" Glenn said, "be they Nazis or Nosferatu. Excuse me." He

covered with a think

Don’t aim a gun if you have no intention of pulling the trigger.  And if you do pull the trigger, shoot to kill.

Thrall is a feast of both visceral and existential horror – the gut tightens and the mind reels. Mary Sangiovanni joins that select cadre of women writers who are ignoring the safe old tropes and pushing the genre in new directions.

Dr. Alston?  It's Marge, down at the office...Yes, we called him...No, apparently he's decided to go to Yale instead...That's right, sir...No, I don't know why...Yes, sir, I certainly can do that, but I think you should know, one of the wait-list students is right here...Dr. Alston?  Are you there?...Yes,

I had never heard of it, but then I do not clutter my mind with trivialities such as tales of ancient sunken cities and such. They take up room that might be more usefully occupied by facts and theories related to solving crimes. I recall how Watson was shocked when he learned that I could not name the planets, and had no idea that they numbered eight. But really, of what use is such information? None.

Makes sense, doesn't it?  They're investing a lot in their students.

No, dear.  It's not that sort of thing.  I have this feeling you'll be in danger there.

sunglasses and rubbed his right eye with his index finger.  "Let's see...it was the October 15th issue, page 12, lower right-hand corner." Quinn

It’s double-action: You’ve got to cock it before you can fire.

Colonel Laughlin we arranged for an army urologist to do a wedge resection on my left testicle under local anesthesia. (He tied off an annoying varicocele while he was there, so it was not a totally frivolous procedure from

certain is death for the born And certain is birth for the dead; Therefore

No, but–” "There are no 'buts' here, Miss Cleary.  If you are to remain a lab assistant here – in fact, if you are to remain a student at this institution – you will follow the rules, or you will be out of here faster than you can blink your baby blue eyes.

amounting to about

Her breasts, although not large, jutted out shamelessly under the soft, warm, heavy fabric, free of the tight undergarments that imprisoned them during the day.

Truth can shrink and fancy can grow much in five centuries.” “You really think it takes that long?” Woermann said, taking in a final survey of the pass before he turned away. It can happen in a matter of a few years.

A rough-hewn, squarish tunnel, maybe eight feet on a side, carved through dark stone, stretched ahead of him curving off to the left. Smokeless flames flickered in sconces spaced along the walls. Okay, first question: Who lit the sconces? And second what were the flames feeding on? What did it matter? In sharp contrast to the blah, semi-modern characterless buildings on the surface, this tunnel looked ancient. And that gave Frankie hope. Because it might lead somewhere else. Was it unreasonable to hope it led back to Manhatten-his Manhatten? Most certainly. Did he have a better route to follow? No. With the manuscript of the Great American Novella clutched to his chest, P.Frank Winslow started walking.

Jack watched her closely, hoping she wasn’t about to cry. He never knew what to do with a crying woman—or man, for that matter. Gia he could take in his arms and hug. But Alicia? Uh-uh. She was flying a Gadsden flag at full mast.

Father Dan stepped up on the marble base of a sculpture that looked like a pair of six-foot charcoal bagels locked in a passionate embrace and inspected the ranks of his troops.

You put us through all that for a book? Why' 'Well number one: He had it and it's mine. And number two: It's mine and he had it.

during their previous stays, but in a rather perfunctory

Had his shim picks

April 19 King Kong Day

through an actual haunted forest! Just hope that your tram doesn't break down, because this forest is PACKED with monsters...   Draculas (with JA Konrath, Blake Crouch, and F. Paul Wilson). An outbreak of feral vampires in a secluded hospital. This one isn't much like Twilight.   For information on all of these books, visit Jeff Strand's more-or-less official

Brother Ramiro carried the carefully wrapped Compendium between his chest and his folded arms as they crossed the town square. Adelard glanced at the trio of scorched stakes where heretics were unburdened of their sins by the cleansing flame. He had witnessed many an auto da fé here since his arrival from France. "Note how passersby avert their eyes and give us a wide berth," Ramiro said. Adelard had indeed noticed that. "I don't know why. They can't know that I am a member of the tribunal." "They don't. They see the black robes and know us as Dominicans, members of the order that runs the Inquisition, and that is enough. This saddens me." "Why?" "You are an inquisitor, I am a simple mendicant. You would not know." "I was not always an inquisitor, Ramiro." "But you did not know Ávila before the Inquisition arrived. We were greeted with smiles and welcomed everywhere. Now no one looks me in the eye. What do you think their averted gazes mean? That they have heresies to hide?" "Perhaps." "Then you are wrong. It means that the robes of our order have become associated with the public burnings of heretics to the exclusion of all else.

He hated the Inquisition and what it had done to the Spains. He found it logical that the Church should want to safeguard the doctrines that empowered it, but at what cost? Thousands upon thousands had been tortured, hundreds upon hundreds had died in agony, tens of thousands had been banished from the land. A whole society had been upended. But preserving the Faith was only part of it. The war for the crown of Castile, in which his family had been slaughtered, plus the war in Grenada–the whole Reconquista, in fact–had bankrupted the monarchy. Banishing the Jews and Moors did more than make the Spains a Christian realm. It left the abandoned properties to be looted by the Church and the royal treasury–an equal share between them. The same with heretics: the Church and the treasury divided their property and money down the middle. Wealth and power–the two Holy Grails of Church and state.

He reached through a slit in his robe into a pouch strapped to his ample abdomen. From it he withdrew a small wineskin. "Here," he said, pushing it between the bars. "For strength. For courage." Adelard pulled the stopper and drank greedily. "They don't feed me and give me very little water." How does it feel? Ramiro thought. How many have you treated the same to make them weak and more easily persuaded by your tortures?

Rich, but not Trump-rich.

My ex-husband kept saying I need an anger management course, but that’s bullshit.” “Really.” “Yeah, ‘really.’ I just need a world with fewer people who piss me off.