Leverage Hardison Quotes

Needle in a haystack's easy - just bring a magnet." Eliot stared witheringly at Hardison. "You take the poetry out of everything." "Says the man who'd just punch the haystack.

You need to own your feelings. Get more comfortable expressing yourself." "How about I express you out the nearest window?

Age of the geek, baby!

Feel the power of the Dark Side," he murmured. "Always," Parker said.

Parker and Hardison look like they're having a good time." "I see," Nate said. "Should we be worried?

What is that *smell*?" Eliot shook his head. "I keep telling you, it's fresh air.

He was convinced that the purse was like that stupid phone booth thing on that TV show Hardison liked: bigger on the inside than the outside.

I can follow pretty much every programming language out there, I can make a two-hundred-year-old diary out of some really nasty ingredients, I can even make sense out of the instruction booklets that come with IKEA furniture, but I can*not* make heads or tails of this nonsense right here.

Hardison held up a gigantic bag that Parker could have used as a dress. "I picked up all sorts of things," he said with a smile. "I grabbed the entire run of Chew, and I savaged the first trade paperback for the Magic: The Gathering comic, signed by the writer, no less.

Standing exposed on a rooftop, with no railing and the wind whipping about him, threatening to pull him flailing and screaming to the ground? That held no interest for him.

Who the hell is Warren Ellis again?” Hardison gaped at the man. “Only one of the greatest comics writers in the past twenty years. Might as well ask who Alan Moore is, or Frank Miller, or Mark Waid, or Brian Michael Bendis, or Marv Wolfman, or Geoff Johns.” Eliot gave Hardison a blank look as they wove their way through the hall. Parker took the lead, toting a printed sign with her. Eliot and Hardison trailed in her wake. They made a point of striding right past Patronus’s booth. They didn’t turn to see if he noticed them. “No one?” Hardison said. “Nothing? Not even Kurt Busiek? Neil Gaiman?” “I have a life. I do things, active things. I date women.” “Stan Lee?” Eliot gave Hardison that one with a wag of his head. “Who hasn’t heard of Stan Lee?” “All right,” Hardison said with satisfaction. “You had me worried there, man.

Sure, I could have, no problem. The security they got around those room booking systems is like a kid’s playpen, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.” Eliot reached across Parker to grab Hardison by the front of his shirt, but Parker shoved her shoulder between the two men, foiling the effort. “That’s your thing, man,” Eliot said over Parker’s shoulder as Hardison backed away into the corner of the cab. “What’s stopping you?” Hardison shrugged, embarrassed. “All the people who come out here, they’re doing it for the sheer joy of being a geek about something. Might be the Avengers, Star Wars, Sailor Moon, or even them sparkly vampires, but hey, they took a week off work, saved up all their pennies for the badges—which sell out in about ninety minutes—and got their butts out there for the show. I—I just couldn’t do that to them.

Sounds great,” Cha0s said. “It’s a date!” Parker ended the call. “Ew, ew, ew!” she said. “I want to wash off my phone. No, I want to disinfect it. No, I want to throw it into the ocean.” “When we’re done,” Nate said. “You might need that until then.” “Great work, Parker,” Sophie said. “You reeled him in well. You could have a future in that sort of work.” “Don’t even think about it,” Parker said. “For Hardison, I’ll do it, but—ew!

You want us to take on a job about funny books?” “They’re graphic novels,” Hardison said in a grave tone. “And it’s a serious art form. They’re the most vibrant format for modern literature. And—and they make freaking great movies. I mean, have you seen The Avengers?

It’s a classic scam.” “Classic or classless?” Hardison said. “Ripping off old people for the simple crime of trusting you doesn’t seem like much of a challenge.” “Aren’t we a little out of this guy’s league?” Parker said, blunt as ever. “The man’s out to rob these comic-book legends of the last things they want to get rid of,” Hardison said. “They gave the world some of its finest heroes. Saving them’s the least we can do.

How did you get the badges?” Parker asked. “You didn’t steal a badge from a pro, did you?” “Of course not,” Hardison said. “Geek solidarity to the end.” “Then whose name is this on my badge? Who’s Diana Prince?” Hardison laughed. “That’s Wonder Woman’s secret identity.” Parker giggled at that. “And who are you? Carl Lucas?” “That’s Luke Cage’s original name.” “Who?” Eliot didn’t bother to conceal his irritation. “Luke Cage? You know, Power Man? Of Power Man and Iron Fist?” Hardison waited for a response that never came. “Sweet Christmas, what’s wrong with you people?” “We have lives. And just who am I supposed to be, huh? Batman’s secret sidekick?” “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Sophie said. Nate gave her a nudge with his elbow, and she fixed him with a mischievous smile. “Naw, man,” said Hardison. “I wouldn’t do that to you. I know how you feel about ‘fictional’ people.” “So who the hell is Warren Ellis?” “He’s a comic-book writer. Good one.” Eliot groaned. “For God’s sake, do I look like a comic-book writer?” “Hey, don’t knock Warren Ellis. He wrote all sorts of great stuff. Global Frequency, The Authority, Transmetropolitan. Good stuff.

Jess Drew?” Nate said. “Seriously? You couldn’t come up with a better name than that?” “What’s wrong with Jessica Drew?” Hardison said. “It’s Spider-Woman’s real name.” “Other than that stunning little detail—which I didn’t know about, but our mark might—there’s the fact that it sounds an awful lot like ‘Just Drew,’ which is a hell of an odd name for an artists’ agent, don’t you think?” “The man’s a serial abuser of pseudonyms himself,” Hardison said. “Even if he does think of that, he’d probably just chalk it off as a professional name. Hell, the man took his last name from a Harry Potter spell. He’s not one to talk.

They gave the world some of its finest heroes. Saving them's the least we can do.