Omega Quotes

Women are the bloodthirsty sex," said Ric sadly. "We get the reputation, but it is only because the women stand behind us, and say, 'Kill it. Squish it.

Sometimes I have the urge to conquer large parts of Europe.

It had to be a mad dream, one that would give her the courage she would need to discard the prejudices of a class that had not always been hers but had become hers more than anyone’s. It had to teach her to think of love as a state of grace: not the means to anything but the alpha and omega, an end in itself.

She wondered that hope was so much harder then despair.

My grandfather would have loved to have met you," he told her huskily. "He would have called you 'She Moves Trees Out of His Path.' " She looked lost, but his da laughed. He'd known the old man, too. "He called me 'He Who Must Run into Trees,'" Charles explained, and in a spirit of honesty, a need for his mate to know who he was, he continued, "or sometimes 'Running Eagle.' " " 'Running Eagle'?" Anna puzzled it over, frowning at him. "What's wrong with that?" "Too stupid to fly," murmured his father with a little smile.

If you reveal everything, bare every feeling, ask for understanding, you lose something crucial to your sense of yourself. You need to know things that others don't know. It's what no one knows about you that allows you to know yourself.

[T]hink of love as a state of grace: not the means to anything but the alpha and omega, an end in itself.

Jesus Christ. . . he was not Omega's son. Was he? "No." V said. "You are not. He just wants to believe you are. And he wants you to think you are. But that doesn't make it true." There was a long silence. Then Rhage's hand landed on Butch's shoulder. "Besides, you don't look a thing like him. I mean. . . hello? You are this beefy Irish white boy. He's like. . . bus exhaust or some shit." Butch glanced over at Hollywood. "You're sick, you know that?" "Yeah, but you love me, right? Come on, I know you feel me.

Is love just a butterfly? Love can tell us so many things about the deep waters of our inner self and the secrecy in the hidden brushwood of our emotions. ("Alpha and Omega")

I studied every page of this book, and I didn't find enough love to fill a salt shaker. God is not love in the Bible; God is vengeance, from Alpha to Omega.

It had to teach her to think of love as a state of grace: not the means to anything but the alpha and omega, an end it itself.

Civilization is vastly overrated.

Identity was partly heritage, partly upbringing, but mostly the choices you make in life. ~ Bran

Because love is imagination, it has the power to open unsuspected horizons, kindle hope, and make us to our best friends, rousing affection, good feelings, sunniness, attachment, and passion. ( "Alpha and Omega")

If we don’t cultivate the growing patch of our feelings closely, emotional anarchism can disrupt the mosaic of our thinking pattern, with love becoming a series of misunderstandings. ( "Alpha and Omega")

I told them," he said in a clear, carrying voice, "that they should not give someone as old and powerful as I a daughter to love. That it would end badly.

To make great art, you had to expose your soul, and some things should be left safely in the dark.

I would slay dragons for you,” he told her. “I suspect that finding an unoccupied bedroom will be easier.

A ma vie de coer entier. Mon debut et ma fin. Se souvenir du passe, et qu'il ya un avenir. My whole heart for my whole life. With an alpha and an omega: my beginning and my end. Remember the past, and that there is a future.

Bran was stripping her futon down to the bare mattress when she entered her apartment. It was sort of like watching the president mowing the White House lawn or taking out the trash.

In the beginning was the word and the word was love and love was imagination. When love takes us through the sun-dappled garden of our imagination, no stalking horses can perturb the rainbow in our mind or fade out its bright colors reflecting in the blue sky of our memory. ("Alpha and Omega")

I hated hurting him. Most of the time, I could forget about it, but the inexorable truth is this: They might be glad to have me around, but I was the alpha and the omega of my parents' suffering.

People always wanted someone to blame, didn't they?

What would a racist call werewolves? Wargs? She kind of liked that one, but suspected that racist bastards didn't read Tolkien.

Let us embrace the lighting highways of our brain and oust the distorting indifference with its horrendous aftermath before our vision becomes shrouded by total blindness. Let us not descend, through listlessness, on a mediocre omicron but complete our spiritual life journey into a fulfilling omega. ( "Alpha and Omega")

If she know how strongly he felt, she'd have run out the door. He wasn't used to the possessive, or the savage joy she brought to his heart. It ate at his control, so he turned his attention to the music. He understood music.

Your woman tells me you will hunt me down and eat my marrow while I live." "Did she?" Charles looked at her, and she saw the approval in his face. She doubted anyone else would have read anything at all. His voice was a caress, just for her. "Would you like that, love?

His grandfather had often told him that he tried too hard to move trees when a wiser man would walk around them.

Sometimes a thing that's hard is hard because you're doing it wrong. (Point Omega)

He had lived a very long time, and only since he gained Anna had he learned to fear. He’d discovered that he had never been brave before—just indifferent. She had taught him that to be brave, you have to fear losing something.

We were not making love, we did not even kiss, but the inexplicable intimacy we shared left us wordlessly and hopelessly locked into each other's gaze.

What is discipline? Discipline means creating an order within you. As you are, you are a chaos.

It is not wise to give something old and powerful something they care about. And I am very old.

Bran was always a deceptive bastard, gentle and mild right up until he ripped your throat out. He had many other fine qualities as well.

You forgot the ‘my precious,’” Anna said dryly. “If you want to act like a freaking nutcase, you have to do it right.

People as old and powerful as he should never be given someone to love. For Anna he would destroy the world.

I would rather be damned by my honesty, than caged by my lies.

She opened her eyes and met his. The impact was so strong he was amazed that his fingers continued playing without pause.

I hope this means you'll quit asking me to kill you. It gives me indigestion.

Leslie had learned two valuable things about the fae that day. They were powerful and charming -- and they ate children and puppies.

The silence is all there is. It is the alpha and the omega, it is God's brooding over the face of the waters; it is the blinded note of the ten thousand things, the whine of wings. You take a step in the right direction to pray to this silence, and even to address the prayer to "World." Distinctions blur. Quit your tents. Pray without ceasing.

How to put this feeling, this certainty, into something as limited as words?

We who are dominant tend to think of that aspect of being a werewolf as rank: who is obeyed, who is to obey. Dominant and submissive. But it is also who is to protect and who is to be protected. A submissive wolf is not incapable of protecting himself: he can fight, he can kill as readily as any other. But a submissive doesn't feel the need to fight -- not the way a dominant does. They are a treasure in a pack. A source of purpose and of balance. Why does a dominant exist? To protect those beneath him, but protecting a submissive is far more rewarding because a submissive will never wait until you are wounded or your back is turned to see if you are truly dominant to him. Submissive wolves can be trusted. And they unite the pack with the goal of keeping them safe and cared for.

If it would benefit you, I would kill every wolf here. But there are things that you need to do -- and interfering with that is not protecting, not in my book. The best way for me to protect you is to encourage you to be able to protect yourself.

You need to know things the others don't know. It's what no one knows about you that allows you to know yourself.

The platinum Omega watch he gave me at breakfast on our first morning in London obscures the red line. The inscription still makes me swoon. Anastasia You are My More My Love, My Life Christian

When a man is on the verge of passing out from pain, it seemed wrong to notice how beautiful he was.

What if he just bombs everyone again?" Ian asks, breaking the silence. "Just like he did with Omega Point?" "He won't," Warner says to him. "He's too arrogant, and this war has become personal. He'll want to toy with us. He'll want to draw this out as long as possible. He is a man who has always been fascinated by the idea of torture. This is going to be fun for him." "Yeah, that's making me feel real good," Kenji says. "Thanks for the pep talk." "Anytime," Warner says.

She crawled on top of him, naked and warm and soft, smelling like a miracle that had saved him from a lifetime of aloneness.

If we expect to identify ourselves in a second other but don’t recognize ourselves in our choice, living can turn into bitterness because the wheel of time has set another compass. When we understand that the chosen one is merely a fabrication of our imagination, the ivory tower of our expectations patently crumbles down. Only by revisiting and resetting our emotional construction do we ingrain its substance and viability. ( "Alpha and Omega")

I do love you. I think you know that, but just in case...I love you.

I don't know what I was expecting. Maybe I thought I'd catch him trying to break a hole in the wall or maybe he'd be plotting the demise of every person at Omega Point or I don't know I don't know I don't know anything because I only know how to fight an angry body, an insolent creature, an arrogant monster, and I do not know what to do with this. He's sleeping.

Why is it so hard to be serious, so easy to be too serious?

Anna looked at Brother Wolf. ‘I’d like to see someone try to put a radio control collar on Charles. It might be fun to watch on YouTube.

His favorite saying was, 'Interdum feror cupidine partium magnarum europe vincendarum." "'Sometimes I have the urge to conquer large parts of Europe'?" Boyd said, sounding a little incredulous. Isabella hadn't, apparently, been the only one who understood her defiance. She nodded. "Usually he only said it when my brother or I were being particularly horrible.

Anna: “I thought Indians built fires with fiction.” Charles: “I can do that, but I'd like to eat sometime in the next day or so. Sterno and Bic are much faster.

It comes with being a teenager—you inspire violence in the hearts of those who love you. It mostly goes away when you hit twenty.

He'd woken up after flying from Boston to Montana to find his da cooking breakfast for them: sausage and pancakes shaped like deer. It wasn't just any deer, either - they looked like Bambi from the disney cartoon. Charles didn't want to know how his father had managed that

Sometimes an angel is found in the dark.

The Minotaur unstrapped his axe and swung it around. It was beautiful in a harsh I’m~going~togut~you~like~a~fish kind of way. Each of its twin blades was shaped like an omega: Ω—the last letter of the Greek alphabet. Maybe that was because the axe would be the last thing his victims ever saw

I want you to understand something. That man? He’s not some boyfriend in a line of them. He is my alpha and omega. He is the sky over me. Without him, I’m lost. There’s no one else, no one whose soul balances mine the way his does. I’ve waited my life for him, and when he came, I didn’t recognize him. Not until recently. If I lose him, I swear, as God is my witness, I will be alone. No man can match him.

Charles preferred his deer to taste like meat and his pancakes to look like pancakes. Brother Wolf thought he was too picky. Brother Wolf was probably right.

New rules. If you are smart enough to live, you won’t hit Charles’s mate in front of his father.

But that is the dual gift of love, isn’t it? The joy of greeting and the sorrow of good-bye.

His brother maintained that what sent people backing away was neither his size nor his mother's blood, but solely the expression on his face. To test Samuel's theory, Charles had tried smiling - and then solemnly reported to Samuel that he had been mistaken. When Charles smiled, he told Samuel, people just ran faster.

Fortunately, he'd found that most people were easy to locate at five thirty in the morning.

Charles looked at her thoughtfully. "People talk to you," he said. "That could be useful.

I believe . . . that the petal of a flower or a tiny worm on the path says far more, contains far more than all the books in the library. One cannot say very much with mere letters and words. Sometimes I'll be writing a Greek letter, a theta or an omega, and tilt my pen just the slightest bit; suddenly the letter has a tail and becomes a fish; in a second it evokes all the streams and rivers of the world, all that is cool and humid, Homer's sea and the waters on which Saint Peter wandered; or becomes a bird, flaps its tail, shakes out its feathers, puffs itself up, laughs, flies away. You probably don't appreciate letters like that, very much, do you, Narcissus? But I say: with them God wrote the world.

He loved her beyond all reason and didn't expect her to love him back. He was just waiting for her to wise up.

And that's when Anna realized that what the wolf had been asking Bran for was death. Impulsively, Anna stepped away from Charles. She put a knee on the bench she'd been sitting on and reached over the back to close her hand on Asil's wrist, which was lying across the back of the pew. He hissed in shock but didn't pull away. As she held him the scent of wilderness, of sickness, faded. He stared at her, the whites of his eyes showing brightly while his irises narrowed to small bands around his black pupil. "Omega," he whispered, his breath coming harshly.

Anna followed, keeping a sharp eye out for things he might back into or over. She wondered if Isaac did this all the time-and, if so, how he avoided getting photos in the paper with captions like "Local Alpha Trips Over Child" or "Wolf Versus Street Sign, Street Sign Wins.

Asil left Bran alone with his thoughts then, because if he stayed, Bran would argue with him. This way, Bran would have no one to argue with but himself. And Asil had always credited Bran with the ability to be persuasive.

Then he snarled at her. “You are not leaving me.” It was an order, and she didn’t have to follow anyone’s orders. That was part of being Omega instead of a regular werewolf – who might have had a snowball’s chance in hell of being a proper mate. “You need someone stronger,” Anna told him again. “So you wouldn’t have to hide when you’re hurt. So you could trust your mate to take care of herself and help, damn it, instead of having to protect me from whatever you are hiding.” She hated crying. Tears were weaknesses that could be exploited and they never solved a damned thing. Sobs gathered in her chest like a rushing tide and she needed to get away from him before she broke. Instead of fighting his grip, she tried to slide out of it. “I need to go,” she said to his chest. “I need–” His mouth closed over hers, hot and hungry, warming her mouth as his body warmed her body. “Me,” Charles said, his voice dark and gravelly as if it had traveled up from the bottom of the earth, his eyes a bright gold. “You need me.

Anna gave Charles a shy kiss on the cheek and strolled out of the room without a backward glance. Until she reached the doorway, and then, in full view of the curious who'd had the courage or discourtesy to linger in the auditorium after he'd dismissed them, she kissed her palm and blew it to him. And despite... or because of their audience, he caught it in one hand, and pulled the hand to his heart. Her smile dropped away, and the expression in her eyes would feed him for a week. And the expressions on the faces of the wolves who knew Charles, or knew his reputation, would make him laugh as soon as no one was watching.

Charles could care less about shoes - and he suspected he wasn't alone among men in his feelings. Shoe, no shoe, he didn't care. Naked was good, though over the past couple of weeks he was beginning to think that dressed in his clothes was a decent second best.

We need time to lose interest in things.

Never accept the blame for what evil people do. We are all responsible for our own actions. She was lecturing him, so she stopped. "Sorry. Hang around with Bran too long, and see if you don’t start passing around the Marrok’s advice as if he were Confucius.

Are you done yet?' Issac called Charles tilted his head back and called back, 'I suppose that's why they call you the five minute wonder.' Anna could feel her eyes round and her mouth drop open 'I cant believe you just said that' She paused and reconsidered. 'I am so telling Samuel you said that.' Charles smiled. kissed her gently, and said 'Samuel won't believe you.

If you make my children, make any child, feel bad for who they are, I will teach you why people fear mama grizzlies more than papa grizzlies.

Um. Charles thinks that his wolf has chosen me as his mate." "In less than one full day?" It did sound dumb when he said it that way. "Yes." She couldn't keep the uncertainty out of her voice, though, and it bothered Charles. He rolled to his feet and growled softly. "Charles also said I was an Omega wolf," she told his father. "That might have something to do with it as well." Silence lengthened and she began to think that the cell phone might have dropped the connection. Then the Marrok laughed softly. "Oh his brother is going to tease him unmercifully about this.

How many beginnings before you see the lies in your excitement?

You're so far off base this time you can't even see the base!

Death isn't the end of your life, you know. Your body is a lock. Death is the key. The key turns... and you're free. To be anywhere. Everywhere. Two places at once. Nowhere. Part of the background hum of the universe.

There isn’t a person in this city more dangerous than a wolf whose mate is in danger.

When they got to thew bottom of the stairwell, they stopped dead. Blay's father was facing off with a lesser, a Civil War sword in one hand, a dagger in the other. Behind his Joe Friday glasses, his eyes were lit like torches, and they flicked over for a split second. "Stay out of this. This one's mine." The shit was done faster than you can say, Ninja Dad. Blay's father went Ginsu on the slayer, carving the thing up like a turkey, then stabbing it back to the Omega.

Thinking goes on in your head. It is not really deep into the roots of your being; it is not your totality.

Apparently deciding Charles’s brief introduction wasn’t good enough, his brother reintroduced himself. “Dr. Samuel Cornick, elder brother and tormentor. Very nice to meet you, Anna—

The Arabians might not suit you; they don’t suit everyone. They are like cats: vain, beautiful, and intelligent. But you deal well enough with Asil, who is also vain, beautiful, and intelligent.

What the hell does it all mean anyhow? Nothing. Zero. Zilch. Nothing comes to anything. And yet, there's no shortage of idiots to babble. Not me. I have a vision. I'm discussing you. Your friends. Your coworkers. Your newspapers. The TV. Everybody's happy to talk. Full of misinformation. Morality, science, religion, politics, sports, love, your portfolio, your children, health. Christ, if I have to eat nine servings of fruits and vegetables a day to live, I don't wanna live. I hate goddamn fruits and vegetables. And your omega 3's, and the treadmill, and the cardiogram, and the mammogram, and the pelvic sonogram, and oh my god the-the-the colonoscopy, and with it all the day still comes where they put you in a box, and its on to the next generation of idiots, who'll also tell you all about life and define for you what's appropriate. My father committed suicide because the morning newspapers depressed him. And could you blame him? With the horror, and corruption, and ignorance, and poverty, and genocide, and AIDS, and global warming, and terrorism, and-and the family value morons, and the gun morons. "The horror," Kurtz said at the end of Heart of Darkness, "the horror." Lucky Kurtz didn't have the Times delivered in the jungle. Ugh... then he'd see some horror. But what do you do? You read about some massacre in Darfur or some school bus gets blown up, and you go "Oh my God, the horror," and then you turn the page and finish your eggs from the free range chickens. Because what can you do. It's overwhelming!

Is it like a Harry Potter thing?" He turned his head then. "A what?" "A Harry Potter thing," she said again. "You know, don't say Voldemort's name because you might attract his attention?" He considered it. "You mean the children's book." "I have got to get you to watch more movies," she said. "You'd enjoy these. Yes, I mean the children's book.

Asil has appointed himself my guardian?" asked Charles softly. Asil was overstepping himself. "He was bored, he told me," said his father. He gave Charles a small smile. "I have given him a job so he doesn’t get bored again.

When is the last time you were a tourist?” she asked archly. He just looked at her. Charles, she had to agree, was not tourist material. “Right,” Anna told him. “Buck up. You might even enjoy it.” “You might as well have ‘hapless victim’ tattooed across your forehead,” he muttered.

He took my hand in his. I gasped when our skin touched and looked into his eyes in a kind of shocked wonder, my eyes wide. His hand was smooth and warm, a few degrees warmer than it should be, and that heat sank into me, but it was not his heat that made me gasp. It felt like a storm resided within his skin and the moment our hands met, the storm and heat went raging through my veins, leaving my skin tingling and my heart fluttering while also making my blush deeper. It was like heat lightning, flashes of brilliance without sound that told of an impending storm. It awakened something within me, something I did not know existed, and took my breath away. I had never felt anything like it before.

I'm not threatening to kill myself. But you need to know this about me because—if you want to be my mate—I won't be like Leo. I won't let you sleep around with anyone else. I won't be forced either. I've had enough. If that makes me a dog in the manger, so be it. But if I am yours, then you damned well are going to be mine." - Anna to Charles

I don’t fool you, do I? Those others”—he waved a vague hand to indicate their missing comrades—“they think I’m all that—but you know better, don’t you.” “Know what?” she’d asked. He leaned forward, smelling of beer and cigarettes. “You know I’m a fraud. I can feel the beast inside me, screaming to get out. And if I loose it, it will pull me up to greatness despite myself.” “So why not let it free?” She hadn’t been a werewolf then. The world had been a gentler place, the monsters safely in their closets, and she had been brave in her ignorance. His eyes were old and weary, his voice slurring a bit. “Because then everyone would see,” he told her. “See what?” “Me.

How do I describe the feeling that envelopes my being when he is near? It is like a cocoon of warmth and peace, but beneath that there is a deep longing, a hunger that one kiss would not be able to satisfy, one kiss would only make the hunger greater. But oh, how I long for that kiss, a kiss that might never come. Being close to him does things to me, makes me feel things I never knew existed, makes me want things I have never wanted before. I have never desired to know a man's body before I met Ariston. I wonder if he knows that I desire him in such a way, that I not only want to know his body, but that I want him to know mine. There is a part of me that would not care if he loves me or not if I could just have one beautiful, passionate night with him, while the rest of me knows that one night would never be enough.

The true life is not reducible to words spoken or written, not by anyone, ever. The true life takes place when we're alone, thinking, feeling, lost in memory, dreamily self-aware, the submicroscopic moments. He said this more than once, Elster did, in more than one way. His life happened, he said, when he sat staring at a blank wall, thinking about dinner. An eight-hundred page biography is nothing more than dead conjecture, he said. I almost believed him when he said such things. He said we do this all the time, all of us, we become ourselves beneath the running thoughts and dim images, wondering idly when we'll die. This is how we live and think whether we know it or not. These are the unsorted thoughts we have looking out the train window, small dull smears of meditative panic.

The difference between the "natural" individuation process, which runs its course unconsciously, and the one which is consciously realized, is tremendous. In the first case consciousness nowhere intervenes; the end remains as dark as the beginning. In the second case so much darkness comes to light that the personality is permeated with light, and consciousness necessarily gains in scope and insight. The encounter between conscious and unconscious has to ensure that the light which shines in the darkness is not only comprehended by the darkness, but comprehends it. The filius solis et lunae (the son of the Sun and Moon) is the possible result as well as the symbol of this union of opposites. It is the alpha and omega of the process, the mediator and intermedius. "It has a thousand names," say the alchemists, meaning that the source from which the individuation process rises and the goal toward which it aims is nameless, ineffable.

My father would take you wherever you wanted to go," he told her softly. "I was pretty sure I could talk you into staying, but I underestimated how badly hurt I was." "Stupid," she said tartly. He looked up at her, and whatever he saw in her face made him smile, though his voice was serious when he answered her charge. "Yes. You throw my judgement off." -Charles and Anna when he thought she was leaving him and Changed when he was injured

All games have morals; and the game of Snakes and Ladders captures, as no other activity can hope to do, the eternal truth that for every ladder you climb, a snake is waiting just around the corner; and for every snake, a ladder will compensate. But it's more than that; no mere carrot-and-stick affair; because implicit in the game is the unchanging twoness of things, the duality of up against down, good against evil; the solid rationality of ladders balances the occult sinuosities of the serpent; in the opposition of staircase and cobra we can see, metaphorically, all conceivable oppositions, Alpha against Omega, father against mother; here is the war of Mary and Musa, and the polarities of knees and nose ... but I found, very early in my life, that the game lacked one crucial dimension, that of ambiguity - because, as events are about to show, it is also possible to slither down a ladder and climb to triumph on the venom of a snake ...