Sean Lock Quotes

All I know is, he found out you left and he locked himself in the shed and barricaded the door. No one's seen him since," Doug said. "When I bolted, Sean and Evan were trying to boost Caleb up onto the roof so he could look through the skylight and make sure the kid wasn't dead or something.

People don't dream all their lives of escaping the hellish countries they live in and pay their life savings to underworld types for the privilege of being locked up in a freezing, filthy, stinking container ship and hauled like cargo for weeks until they finally arrive in Moscow or Beijing or Baghdad or Kabul. People risk their lives to come here---to New York. The greatest city in the world, where dreams become reality.

It is of great use to the sailor to know the length of his line, though he cannot with it fathom all the depths of the ocean.

So, look, you can't leave," Doug said, sitting straight up and turning towards her. "if you do, Miller's gonna revert and Caleb and Ian are gonna ride roughshod and Sean'll go back to being ghost brother and Finn..." Megan's heart slipped. "Finn what?" "Finn will be destroyed," Doug said, looking her in the eye. "You got that dude all up in a twist, you know that, right?" "What does that even mean?" Megan asked. "All's I know is, he found out you left and he locked himself in the shed and barricaded the door. No one's seen him since," Doug said. "When I bolted, Sean and Evan were trying to boost Caleb up onto the roof so he could look through the skylight and make sure the kid wasn't dead or something." Megan swallowed hard. "Wow.

This could be made much simpler if we just locked Caldenia up until it’s over,” Sean said. “Sometimes you say things that make me wonder about you.” “No need to wonder. I’m a simple man. I love you and I will protect you. And the inn. Even if I have to murder Caldenia and everyone else to do it.” I stood on my toes and kissed him. “What if we don’t murder anybody?” The corners of his mouth curved. “No promises.

Let her go in with him." (...) "Actually, I feel quite endangered by her presence. Dont you, Lila?" "Absolutely," said Lila. "She terrifies me. Right Sean?" "Shit." Sean wiped a hand over his face. (...) Lila raised her eyebrows and the Viking groaned in defeat. "Never been so scared in my life. She's so small and ...wounded." "Please, Finn," said Ali, her eyes full of warmth and good humor. "Save us. You're our last hope." "F***ing ridiculous." Finn pulled a set of keys out of his pocket and shoved one into the lock.

Holy shit. Only in corporate America could a child abduction which had already yielded one dead body be seen as a way to make a business appear warm and cuddly.

Don’t call your family ‘the fam’, Sean. It sounds douchey. Another two syllables won’t kill you,” I chided playfully. Sean’s smirk indicated he was enjoying my criticism, and I didn’t understand that, either. “This coming from the girl with hair like a packet of Skittles.” “My hair isn’t douchey,” I said, and flicked a few locks over my shoulder. “It brings joy to all those who gaze upon it.

Thousands of people in the city who lived in walk-ups dreamed of moving out so they could escape having to climb flights of stairs. Yet here she was, surrounded by women of her age and younger, paying for the privilege.

...You ever been at a military base when the brass are visiting, or worse, the President? The place is unrecognizable. Everything they want the VIP to see is out front and center, and everything they don't want them to see gets squirreled away until they've gone. It's just human nature.

He is transported to his childhood when, taken to a show by a neighbor, he watched in awe and thought (as he thought when he first saw the Rocky Mountains): Why did no one tell me life could be this? As if they had been hiding from him that, instead of Puritan hard work and failed get-rich schemes, promises broken and pointless battles waged, life could be sequins and song. He felt he had been lied to from the Pilgrims on down. The secret had been kept from him like a mad aunt locked in the basement, and now a neighbor had innocently set her loose—and she was wonderful! He understood everyone was wrong about life, and if they were wrong about that, then they could be wrong about him. It seemed possible—only for those two hours—that he as well, somewhere inside, could be sequins and song.

He had less than thirty seconds to finish his ritual. Using his toes, West loaded the bipod, pushing his body tight into the buttstock. He set his cheek on the rest, locked into the gun, his body set up to absorb the recoil. His mind calculated the data needed to put a 750-grain armor-piercing bullet into the bow tie affixed to the grille. Hitting a target the size of a coffee can was hard enough. When the target was moving at 80 miles per hour West knew he had to be right on the money. He focused on breathing normally—even breaths in and out. The reticle was locked in high and to the right of the spot he actually wanted to put the bullet, and then he flicked the safety off with his thumb

So, look, you can’t leave,” Doug said, sitting up straight and turning toward her. “If you do, Miller’s gonna revert and Caleb and Ian are gonna ride roughshod and Sean’ll go back to being Ghost Brother and Finn…” Megan’s heart slipped. “Finn what?” “Finn will be destroyed,” Doug said, looking her in the eye. “You got that dude all up in a twist, you know that, right?” “What does that even mean?” Megan asked. “All’s I know is, he found out you left and he locked himself in the shed and barricaded the door. No one’s seen him since,” Doug said. “When I bolted, Sean and Evan were trying to boost Caleb up onto the roof so he could look through the skylight and make sure the kid wasn’t dead or something.” Megan swallowed hard. “Wow.

Eric Steele utilized the Mark XI’s voice command function by saying, “Nav,” and a map appeared in the upper-right quadrant of the visor. The yellow blinking arrow told him that he needed to come left, so he lowered his shoulder and banked gently until he was locked on the correct glide path. This thing is legit. Steele had grown up on James Bond and thought being a spy was all about the gadgets. But in the real world batteries failed and an operator lived and died by making a plan and sticking to it. One of the main reasons Steele was still alive while so many of his friends were dead was because he didn’t leave anything to chance. He carefully brought his left arm up to eye level and double-checked the Mark XI’s readings with the GPS/altimeter combo strapped to his forearm. Once he was sure that he knew exactly where he was, he snapped his arms tight and accelerated to 200 miles per hour.

Lock made eye contact. ‘Yeah. Where’d

It was not uncommon for the landlord to close up, lock the doors, and then reopen the bar after hours on the down-low for those trusted locals who did not want to call it a night. Sometimes the after-hours boozing could go on until dawn, which was why Sean tried to avoid such situations these days.

Every sound, every movement felt . . . more. I didn’t bother to lock the door. Regardless of how realistic I wanted things, I didn’t want to have to break character because Sean couldn’t figure out the damn lock.

documents, a glazed expression on his face.

Oh, my,” she breathed. “She’s here?” he asked unnecessarily, refusing to look. Resisting temptation. “I’m assuming it must be her; I pretty much know everyone else in the room.” There was a short silence as she inspected the newcomer thoroughly. “My heavens, I didn’t realize scientists came like this. She’s simply . . . magnificent.” “There’s not one thing that’s simple about Lily Banyon.” Evelyn’s eyes were still focused on the other end of the room. “Hmm, I think I see what you mean.” A smile played over her lips. “How utterly refreshing and fascinating—you’ll have your work cut out for you. Come, Mayor McDermott, duty calls.” “I don’t need to meet her. I already know her. Too well.” Evelyn made a tsking sound. “My, my, don’t we sound like we’ve missed our afternoon nap?” she murmured as she brushed by him, assuming the role of Coral Beach’s welcome wagon, fully equipped with bells, whistles, and highlighters. His secretary had abandoned him for the enemy. How much worse could things get? A clause should be inserted into their contracts prohibiting secretaries from treating their bosses as though they were three-year-olds. Had there been dirt instead of mocha-colored industrial carpeting underfoot, he’d have kicked it. It wasn’t anyone’s business but his if he refused to rush over and blurt, Hey, Lily, long time no see! So, tell me, what’ve you been up to since Rome, when you slammed the door in my face so hard you almost broke my nose for the second time? He was the mayor. He could do as he liked. And what he most wanted, right after making Lily Banyon disappear from his life as suddenly as she’d reappeared, was an armed guard. Then maybe he could confront her and walk away in one piece. Reluctantly, Sean turned and looked. Three seconds was all he permitted himself. Lily Banyon wasn’t going to catch him staring like some hormone-crazed adolescent. Three seconds was more than enough, though. Lily’s image burned, a brilliant flame behind his retinas. She looked good. No, make that great, incredible . . . yes, magnificent. She’d chopped off her hair, about a foot and a half of it. Her wheat-blonde locks fell in a casual, tousled style, framing her face, accentuating those startling, ice-crystal blue eyes. She looked even better than he remembered, a memory hot enough to make him lie awake at night, aching.

Having enough money could buy you freedom, but too much became its own prison.

Chance looked up at him, her dark grey eyes out. 'I knew you were gonna be like this.' 'How'd you know?' Reaper said, reaching out and putting his arm around her shoulders. 'I am my father's daughter, ain't I?' said Chance . Reaper smiled. 'You sure as hell you are.

My whole life I had believed that understanding myself required me to keep others at a distance, lined up on the far side of a river. That evening of counting I had not felt so certain. That evening I felt like a room with doors open, for others to explore, and that from their explorations I could start to ascertain my shape. We are not the people we think; we cannot really see who we are. Here, on Sunday in San Francisco, I had the same impression: that I might unfasten the locks and lower the draw-bridge; that I might not be a fortress but a space for others to pass through.

doors and tunnels throughout the city. Today, most had been bricked over or locked, but Don had once mentioned that their neighbor, who had lived next door longer than they had, had paid them to store a few extra things he couldn’t fit at his place. They kept the door accessible should he ever need to get in and out to retrieve something. Sean could see that the old rusted door handle was unlatched, and the door itself was pulled back on its disintegrating hinges. He made his way over to investigate. It was hard to see into the next room. He walked inside. The neighbor’s basement was just as dark as Don’s. Sean took out his phone and turned on the flashlight. The small space was full of storage boxes, old clothes, piles of books and newspapers, and a single green kayak propped diagonally across it all. He shined the light in a sweeping pattern but couldn’t see a place where she could be hiding. “Joyce, please. I need your help.” There was a noise from behind him, coming from the other room. Sean scurried back in time to see Joyce leaping from behind the washing machine. His flashlight caught her face, and he saw it was bloodied and swollen from when he’d punched her. She scurried up the stairs, her feet thumping on each wooden step until she reached the kitchen. “Joyce!” “Somebody help me!” “Joyce! Get back here!

The law was an institution that moved slowly. Apprehension, ascertaining the truth: these took time. And the law was reactive. First a crime had to be committed. In the military, and now in the private sector, you couldn't wait for something to happen. By then it was too late.

Ty leaned in to him. "This is some weird scene, even by LA standards," he said. "They're not from LA," Lock reminded him. "No kidding. We're having to import our weirdness now. Seems like they do that better than us too," said Ty.

Like his partner, Lock believed that the more prepared you were, the less likely you'd be called upon to use a weapon. It wasn't so much the deterrent factor as some glitch in the cosmos that seemed to dictate that the one time you weren't carrying was the one time you'd need your gun.

...When you try to impose your will on human nature it can make things worse rather than better.

...if you're rich in this country you'll be treated a little differently from the rest of us. not because you're rich -- hell, with a jury that might work against you -- but because you can pay for a better defense....

at the top, the world was populated by politicians, whether they had that title or not.

Epidemics are local and occur in one place every 1 - 3 years, while Pandemics occur worldwide and happen at irregular intervals of several decades.

I get the last laugh. Because you see, handing me the talisman and going to Heaven means you'll be personally responsible for two others being tortured. Locked in a room with a demon at the height of her power for the rest of eternity. Evan's blood would be on your hands. Sean's blood would be on your hands. How could you live with that? How could one person be so cruel as to hand the others an eternal sentence of cold-blooded torture?

I thought you’d run. Most people would have.” “You would have caught me.” “True. Most people figure that out too late.” Fine, Brad, let’s talk this through, if that’s what you want. And yes, I used your first name. I don’t kowtow to you anymore. At least not in my own head. “You betrayed me in Ukraine,” I said. “We’ve been over this.” “No, we haven’t.” Winters sighed, like I was wasting his time. Fine with me. I knew he wanted to be at Camp Speicher even less than I did. I was comfortable in this environment; he wasn’t.

If you had died in Ukraine, Thomas, you wouldn’t be the man I thought you were.” He looked me in the eye for dramatic effect, but I didn’t squirm under his gaze. Not anymore. “But you weren’t killed, and you are the man I imagined.” “My friend died there,” I said. “A man I trusted like a brother.” “Men die, Thomas. You should know this better than most. It’s what you do.” He didn’t understand. He didn’t have anyone in his life that mattered to him like Jimmy Miles had to me. He probably didn’t even have someone like Boon. “Why did you track me?” He laughed. “You know the answer to that, Thomas.” But I didn’t, and Winters realized it. If he was disappointed, he didn’t show it. “Sometimes, we are the last to know ourselves,” he said. Since when was this snake a philosopher?

You called because of the key. Admit it. You felt alive, when you found out what was at stake. You felt a sense of purpose again, knowing you could change the world. You felt power. It sharpens the mind, Thomas. It enhances the senses. You can taste it: the sense of destiny. You are part of the world, but you are standing above it, beyond it. You matter. That’s true power, Thomas. That’s why you called.” He was wrong. I called because it was the only way out. I called because I didn’t want anyone else to die. I called because every life is precious. Didn’t I? “Know thyself, Thomas. Accept it.” I could see it then. I knew why he had been following me, waiting for me to come back, like the prodigal son. Brad Winters, it turned out, did have someone like Jimmy Miles in his life. That someone was me. But I hated Brad Winters. Didn’t I?

but doing something and it being proved in a court of law, well, those were two different things.

Before locks that you could command to repel a specific person from your door if you wanted…

Every time you doubt yourself, a door closes within, locking away pieces of you until your soul feels like an abandoned house.