Sarah Connor Quotes

Just so we're clear. You've been claimed, that kiss was my brand, and now you're mine." - Mason Connor

Message me when you're home safe' -- Connor 'I'm home' -- Bryce

[Connor, prepared to sacrifice himself to save Sarah] God, I pray, give me the strength to live the next hour well.

That right there, Katie, is proof to me that he’ll make you happy. And that is what I want most for you.” “You are a good man, Tavish O’Connor.

I fell in love with a brown-eyed angel in the middle of a football field, and I hadn't even talked to her yet. All it took was her laugh." - Mason Connor

Patience is a virtue Savannah, to tolerate delay. It implies self control and forbearance, as opposed to wanting what we want when we want it. Something to think about. . . Catherine Weaver (Character), "Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles

A meet-cute is when the hero and heroine meet for the very first time, and it’s always in a charming way. It’s how you know they’re going to end up together. The cuter the better.” “Like in Terminator, when Reese saves Sarah Connor from the Terminator and he says, ‘Come with me if you want to live.’ Freaking amazing line.

Know thyself and thou shall know all the mysteries of the gods and the universe.

The last thing in the world I want to do is hurt you. I just want to spend the rest of my life loving you." - Mason Connor

I can't decide what I love more. The sight of you with your lips so close to my cock or you looking up at me with laughter in your eyes."- Mason Connor

To quote Sarah Connor: ‘You’re all dead already.’ You, your friends, your customers—all of you. You poisoned your own planet, destroyed its climate, defiled its ecosystem, and killed off all of its biodiversity.” He pointed at each of us. “You’re going to be extinct soon, too, by your hands. And you know it. That’s why most of you spend every second you can wired up to the OASIS. You’ve already given up, and now you’re all just waiting around to die.

Do you feel that? Feel me wrapped around you, holding you tight. That's me, holding on, not letting you go. And I'm going to keep holding on, so when you do fall, I'll be there to cushion the blow. And I promise you, Angel, you won't even feel the landing." - Mason Connor

Though his countenance was solemn, there was a glint of amusement in his eyes. "Major MacKinnon, won't you join us?" "But, my lord, he is clad in outlawed rebel attire. The Dress Act expressly forbids--" "I am not blind, Colonel, and I am familiar with our laws." Sarah fought back a smile. Colonel Haviland lowered his voice, leaned toward Uncle William. "He was invited to pay respects to your niece, my lord, and he has the gall to--" "I _am_ payin' my respects to the lass!" Connor's deep voice filled the room, cutting Colonel Haviland off altogether.

Dissatisfaction began to grow so great in Parker that there was no containing it outside of a tattoo. It had to be his back. There was no help for it. A dim half-formed inspiration began to work in his mind. He visualized having a tattoo put there that Sarah Ruth would not be able to resist—a religious subject.

I love you, Katie Macauley.” He swallowed with effort. “I have almost from the very beginning. The longer I know you, the more I—” The pain of regret and worry forestalled any further admissions. “I need to go sit with the girls,” he said. “The O’Connors are going to look after you. I promise I’ll be back. I promise.

At his desk, pen in hand, none was more articulate than Thomas. As soon as he found himself shut into the car with Sarah Ham, terror seized his tongue.

The best thing about flying first class....was that you could be as nutty as a fruitcake and were still treated like the Queen of Sheba.

They had such a good meet-cute,” I croak. “What’s a meet-cute?” Peter’s lying on his side now, his head propped up on his elbow. He looks so adorable I could pinch his cheeks, but I refrain from saying so. His head is big enough as it is. “A meet-cute is when the hero and heroine meet for the very first time, and it’s always in a charming way. It’s how you know they’re going to end up together. The cuter the better.” “Like in Terminator, when Reese saves Sarah Connor from the Terminator and he says, ‘Come with me if you want to live.’ Freaking amazing line.” “I mean, sure, I guess that’s technically a meet-cute…I was thinking more like It Happened One Night. We should add that to our list.” “Is that in color or black-and-white?” “Black-and-white.” Peter groans and falls back against the couch cushions. “It’s too bad we don’t have a meet-cute,” I muse. “You jumped me in the hallway at school. I think that’s pretty cute.” “But we already knew each other, so it doesn’t really count.” I frown. “We don’t even remember how we met. How sad.” “I remember meeting you for the first time.” “Nuh-uh. Liar!” “Hey just because you don’t remember something doesn’t mean I don’t. I remember a lot of things.” “Okay, so how did we meet?” I challenge. I’m sure that whatever comes out of his mouth next will be a lie. Peter opens his mouth, then snaps it shut. “I’m not telling.” “See! You just can’t think of anything.” “No, you don’t deserve to know, because you don’t believe me.” I roll my eyes. “So full of it.

There is a certain embarrassment about being a storyteller in these times when stories are considered not quite as satisfying as statements and statements not quite as satisfying as statistics; but in the long run, a people is known, not by its statements or its statistics, but by the stories it tells. —FLANNERY O’CONNOR9

The ultimate irony in this vast struggle (available to audience members who want to think about it but easily ignored by those who accept the semi-happy ending ) is the irony in many time loop (or ontological paradox) stories: John Connor has created himself (though he has not gone as far as the character in Robert Heinlein’s “All You Zombies” who is both his own father and mother). Far worse, by saving his mother’s life and ensuring the destruction of the Terminator, John Connor has created Skynet just as surely as Skynet has created John Connor by trying to kill him. Both Connor and Skynet exist in a time loop without outside causality. The Terminator’s surviving arm makes Skynet possible, but it is never invented, only found and back-engineered. Kyle Reese comes across time for Sarah Connor because of a picture and because John Connor asks him to, but neither the picture nor John Connor would exist if Reese had not already gone back in time. The simplest way to save the world is to let the Terminator kill Sarah Connor. Then (in all probability), no one would find a piece of the advanced technology, and Skynet could not be built. But, Cameron’s plot suggests, the “perils to come that would result from our hubris and blind faith in technology” may be inescapable, a time loop, a feedback loop, leading directly if not necessarily inevitably to destruction."Fighting the History Wars on the Big Screen: From the Terminator to Avatar" from The Films of James Cameron

You’ve known Bryce for what—a few months? We were friends for five years. So don’t fucking talk about me, my brother, or her as if you know anything about us. You don’t know shit, Umbra Mortis.” “I know you were a dick to her for two years. I watched you stand by while Amelie Ravenscroft tormented her. Grow the fuck up.” Ithan barred his teeth. Hunt barred his own right back. Syrinx hopped to his feet and whined, demanding more food. Hunt couldn’t help his exasperated laugh. “Fine, fine,” he said to the chimera, reaching for the container of kibble. Ithan’s eyes burned him like a brand. Hunt had seen that same take-no-shit face during televised sunball games. “Connor was in love with her for those five years, you know.” The wolf headed over to the couch and plopped onto the cushions. “Five years, and by the end of it, he’d only managed to get her to agree to go on a date with him.” Hunt kept his face unreadable as Syrinx devoured his second—potentially third—breakfast. “So?” Ithan turned on the morning news before propping his feet on the coffee table and interlacing his hands behind his head. “You’re at month five, bro. Good luck to you.

The silence of the apartment pressed on Ithan. He’d never lived on his own. He’d always had the constant chaos and closeness of the Den, the insanity of his college dorm, or the hotels he’d stayed at with the CCU sunball team. This place might as well have been another planet. He rubbed at his chest, as if it’d erase the tightness. He’d known precisely why he’d disobeyed Sabine’s order this spring when Bryce had screamed for help. The sound of her pleading had been unbearable. And when she’d mentioned children at risk, something had exploded in his brain. He had no regrets about what he’d done. But could he endure its consequences? Not the beating—he could weather that shit any day. But being here, alone, adrift… He hadn’t felt like this since Connor and the others had died. Since he’d walked away from his sunball team and stopped answering their calls. He had no idea what the Hel he’d do now. Perhaps the answer wasn’t some big, life-altering thing. Maybe it could be as simple as putting one foot in front of the other. That’s how you wound up following someone like Amelie, a voice that sounded an awful lot like Connor growled. Make better choices this time, pup. Assess. Decide what you want. But for now…one foot in front of the other. He could do that. If just for today.

Maybe she was crazy, but she wasn’t stupid. She’d seen Terminator 2. She wasn’t going out like Sarah Connor.

He turned her hand over and pressed a kiss to her palm. She blushed red as a strawberry. “Keep doing that, Tavish O’Connor, and I’ll begin to suspect you fancy me.” He loved when she teased him back. The first few weeks he’d known her, she had been far too serious. “What do I need to do to get you from ‘suspecting’ to ‘believing’?

There are far better distractions than putting up preserves,” he whispered to her. Her entire face heated even as a tiny smile echoed from her heart. “Do you never stop flirting, Tavish O’Connor?” “Of course. But I needed to see that smile of yours, Sweet Katie.” He spoke quietly, his breath tickling the hair near her temple. “Everything’s right in my world when you smile.

I can lend her my clothes,” Tavish said, his tone thoughtful to the point of drama. “Of course, I’d have nothing to wear then, myself.” Katie refused to blush at that comment. Indeed, she set herself quite firmly on ignoring it. Mrs. O’Connor rolled her eyes, something Katie had rarely seen a grown person do. The childlike gesture made Katie smile inside despite the awful day she was having. “Miss Macauley’s been through enough tonight without being subjected to that,” Mrs. O’Connor said. “You leave your clothes on and quit trying to embarrass the poor thing.” “Trying to make her smile was all I was hoping for.

My name’s Tavish O’Connor,” he said. “And it’s very pleased I am to meet you.” Katie held her ground and kept her peace. There was nothing that irritated an arrogant man more than a woman who showed no interest in him. Tavish’s smile remained in place. “Might you see your way to telling me what it is I’m to call you?” Katie didn’t trust this mysterious Tavish O’Connor and his twinkling blue eyes, not for one moment. Handsome he was. Talkative to be sure. But she’d not give him credit for more than that. “Come now,” he said. “It seems we’re to take you on to Hope Springs. Wouldn’t do to be calling you Miss for the next two hours.

It was like watching The Terminator. Sadly, we were the Sarah Connors in this remake. Tracy’s

You’re not Sarah Connor, and the Terminator is now governor of California

as Flannery O’Connor put it, “In the act of writing, one sees that the way a thing is made, controls and is inseparable from the whole meaning of it. The form of a story gives it meaning which any other form would change.”6

Danika lay there. In pieces. And at the foot of the bed, littering the torn carpet in even smaller pieces, as if he’d gone down defending Danika … she knew that was Connor. Knew the heap just to the right of the bed, closest to Danika … That was Thorne.

they called it ‘I Just Hooked Up with Someone in the Bathroom, Don’t Tell Connor.’ They sing it whenever they see me.” His face had gone cold as ice. “Which packs?” She shook her head. She certainly wouldn’t name them, not with that murderous expression on his face. “It doesn’t matter. People are assholes.” It was as simple as that, she’d learned. Most people were assholes, and this city was rife with them. She sometimes wondered what they’d say if they knew about that time two winters ago when someone had sent a thousand printed-out lyric sheets of the song to her new apartment, along with mock album artwork taken from the photos she’d snapped that night. If they knew she had gone up to the roof to burn them all—but instead wound up staring over the ledge. She wondered what would have happened if Juniper, on a whim, hadn’t called just to check in that night. Right as Bryce had braced her hands on the rail. Only that friendly voice on the other end of the line kept Bryce from walking right off the roof.

Briggs went on, “My followers knew Danika was a potential asset. We’d discussed it, right up until the raid. And that night, Danika and her pack were fair with us. We fought, and even managed to get in a few good blows on that Second of hers.” He whistled. “Connor Holstrom.” Bryce went utterly rigid. “Guy was a bruiser.” From the cruel curve of his lips, he’d clearly noticed how stiff she’d gone at the mention of Connor’s name. “Was Holstrom your boyfriend? Pity.

He’d had the audacity, the ignorance, to question her love for Danika and Connor. His claws and fangs retracted. That wolf inside ceased baying.

Does my brother, Connor Holstrom, remain in the Bone Quarter, or has his soul passed through the Dead Gate?” The Astronomer whispered, “Luna above.” He fiddled with one of the faintly glowing rings atop his hand. “This question requires a … riskier method of contact than usual. One that borders on the illegal. It will cost you.” Bryce said, “How much?” Scam-artist bullshit. “Another hundred gold marks.” Bryce started, but Ithan said, “Done.” She turned to warn him not to spend one more coin of the considerable inheritance his parents had left him, but the Astronomer hobbled toward a metal cabinet beneath the dials and opened its small doors. He pulled out a bundle wrapped in canvas. Bryce stiffened at the moldy, rotten earth scent that crept from the bundle as he unfolded the fabric to reveal a handful of rust-colored salt. “What the fuck is that?” Ithan asked. “Bloodsalt,” Bryce breathed. Tharion looked to her in question, but she didn’t bother to explain more. Blood for life, blood for death—it was summoning salt infused with the blood from a laboring mother’s sex and blood from a dying male’s throat. The two great transitions of a soul in and out of this world. But to use it here … “You can’t mean to add that to their water,” Bryce said to the Astronomer. The old male hobbled back down the ramp. “Their tanks already contain white salts. The bloodsalt will merely pinpoint their search.

Do you know if Connor Holstrom remains in the Bone Quarter of Midgard? A long, long pause, the sound waves flatlining. Then— Who sent you here? A wolf, a mer, and a half-Fae, half-human female. How the mystics had known of their presence, Bryce had no idea. Didn’t want to know what sort of perception they possessed while in those isolation tanks. Thanatos asked, What are their names? I do not know. Will you answer my questions? Another long pause. “We need to stop this.” Ithan nodded toward the male’s tub. Ice was beginning to inch over the water. They are listening, are they? Yes. Again, silence. And then the demon prince said, Let me see them. Let them see me. The mystic’s eyes flew open in the tank below.

Thanatos’s eyes flared. You cost me a key link to Midgard. The Shepherd reported faithfully to me on all it heard in the Bone Quarter. The souls of the dead talk freely of their world. “Boo-hoo.” You mock a Prince of Hel? “I just want answers.” And to get the fuck out of here. Thanatos studied her again—as if he had all the time in the universe. Then he said, I will give them to you only out of respect for a warrior capable of slaying one of my creations. Shall I meet you on the battlefield, however, I will take vengeance for the Shepherd’s death. Bryce’s mouth dried out. “It’s a date.” Connor Holstrom remains in the Bone Quarter. My Shepherd observed him on its rounds the night before you slew it. Unless … Ah, I see now. His eyes went distant. An order was dispatched from the dark. He shall be left alone with the others until the usual amount of time has passed. “Who gave the order?” Ithan demanded. It is not clear. Bryce demanded, “Is there a way to help souls like Connor?” Whether he was ushered through the Dead Gate tomorrow or in five hundred years, it was a horrible fate. Only the Asteri would know.

What the fuck is this?” Bryce whispered as she knelt in the ruins of her coffee table and leafed through the stack of papers that had apparently been hidden inside. “It’s not only college papers,” Ithan said, fanning out the pages beside her. “These are documents and images of newspaper clippings.” He peered at them. “They all seem like they’re regarding firstlight’s uses—mostly how it was made into weapons.” Bryce’s hands shook. She sifted through a few academic articles—all full of redactions—theorizing on the origin of worlds and what the Asteri even were. “She never mentioned any of this,” Bryce said. “Think this is what Sofie Renast discovered?” he asked. “Like, maybe Danika sniffed something out about the Asteri with her …” He trailed off, then added, “Gifts?” Bryce lifted her gaze to his carefully neutral face as he tried to recover from a stumble. “You knew about her bloodhound gift?” Ithan shifted on his knees. “It wasn’t ever talked about, but … yeah. Connor and I knew.” Bryce flipped another page, tucking that factoid away. “Well, why would it even matter if Danika had sniffed out something regarding the Asteri? They’re holy stars.” Beings that possessed the force of an entire star within them, unaging and undying. But as Bryce skimmed article after article, Ithan doing the same beside her, she began to see that they challenged that fact. She made herself keep breathing steadily. Danika had been a history major at CCU. None of this stuff was out of the ordinary—except that it had been hidden. Here. All we have as proof of their so-called sacred power is their word, Bryce read. Who has ever seen such a star manifest itself? If they are stars from the heavens, then they are fallen stars.

Ithan turned. And there was Connor, as vibrant as he’d ever been in life, standing in the temple doorway.

The Under-King told Hypaxia and me that Connor … that the Under-King had been given a command not to touch my brother. Why?” Jesiba’s face was unreadable. “I don’t know. In all likelihood, it’s because he was an asset in life, and remains so in death.” “To who?” “The Asteri. They know what Connor means to Quinlan, to you—that makes his soul very, very valuable.” Ithan reeled. “I’m nobody.

He’d never told Bryce that the reason why Connor had finally asked her out that night was because Ithan had told him to shit or get off the pot.

I'm crazy about you. I don't want anyone else. I haven't for a long while. One date. If it doesn't work, then we'll deal with it. But just give me a chance. Please.

You won't regret this. I've had a long while to figure out all the ways I'm going to spoil you. All the fun we're going to have.

It'd be a trial run. For a date,' Connor said through his teeth. She lifted a brow. 'A date to decide if I want to date you?' 'You're impossible.

Tell Bryce,” Connor said, eyes shining as he stepped toward the glowing Gate, a wall of light now shimmering in the empty arch, “to make the shot count.

Ithan did. As succinctly as he could, aware of each second counting down. About Sigrid and Sabine and the Prime. About what he was now. About the parasite and its antidote. Ithan glanced at his phone when he finished. Only two minutes left. Connor was smiling faintly. “What?” Ithan said. His brother laid a hand on his heart and bowed his head, a mark of respect to the Prime.

Only when they stood before it did Connor speak again. “That bullet,” Connor said, nodding to where Ithan held it, “was made by us—the dead. For Bryce.” A soft, pained smile crossed his face at her name. “To use with the Godslayer Rifle.

I’m already gone, Ithan,” Connor said gently. “And I can think of no better way to end my existence than by striking a blow for all our ancestors who’ve been trapped and consumed by the Asteri.” He nodded to the bullet, the glowing Gate illuminating his face. “Look at the engraving.” Memento Mori. The letters gleamed in the Gate’s pale light.

Connor said to Ithan, “You do make me proud, you know. Every day before now, and every day after. Nothing you do will ever change that.” Something ruptured in Ithan’s chest. “Connor—” “Tell Bryce,” Connor said, eyes shining as he stepped toward the glowing Gate, a wall of light now shimmering in the empty arch, “to make the shot count.

Powered by the souls of the dead, of Connor and the Pack of Devils and so many more … the dead sacrificing for the sake of the living. The dead, yielding eternity so Midgard might be free.