Best 18 quotes of Diana Rowland on MyQuotes

Had I managed to fall into some sort of carnivorous plant? Yeah, bleed on the man-eating plant. Always a good plan.

Hell, right now my only weapons were Obnoxious and Snark, and I intended to use them whenever possible.

I told him about me being a summoner, and what that entailed. At the end of he simply gave a long sigh. “Why couldn’t you simply be an alcoholic like all the other detectives?” I grinned. “Demon summoning has less vomiting!

Ryan stared at me as I pulled my phone out to see who was calling at this late hour. “You have the Fraggle Rock theme song as your ring tone,” he said, with a bemused look on his face. “You are so weird.

Still, waking up this early was just wrong. “Why can’t people be reasonable and only die after eleven A.M.?” I whined.

Too easy to lose the way. Too hard to keep from unraveling when there’s nothing to remind you of who you are and where you should be. Another eternity passes in the flick of an eyelash.

When did I turn into a needywhiny angsty idiot who needed to be swept off her feet? She snorted then started running again, forcing me into a brief sprint to catch up. We're conditioned from birth she said. I swear to god,if I ever have a daughter I'll ban all of the Disney princesses from the house. Except Mulan. She kicks ass.

You're pretty smart for a Fed." "I missed a bunch of questions on the entrance exam on purpose so that I could get into the agency.

Coffe and breakfast with friends. What more could a girl ask for.

Greg was a supernice guy and a good tenant.” “I met him only once, but he seemed pretty cool,” I said. “Of course, the neighbor across the street was convinced he was up to no good.” “Oh, my God, that racist bitch? I swear, I wanted to rent the place out to a black Jewish gay couple just to piss her off, but then I figured it wouldn’t be fair to the black Jewish gay couple.

I have missed you. And I did not know anything was missing.

I’m Angel Crawford. Coroner’s Office.” I pointed to the logo on my work shirt. “I’m partnering with Dr. Charish in this medical mystery investigation.

Mzatal gave a decisive nod. “I will manage this. It cannot continue to interfere with his work. Too much is at stake.” I raised an eyebrow. “How do you intend to manage it?” “I will tell him the truth and outline the consequences.” I was surprised Mzatal didn’t shrivel away from the look I gave him. “Dude. Seriously? You expect him to stop crushing on me because you forbid it?” Mzatal frowned, contemplative. “Perhaps not ideal given the entanglement of human emotions, though there is no time for it to drag on,” he said, as if he actually knew what he was talking about. “If he knows you have no interest and sees how his distractions have affected his work, he will subside enough for now.” My withering look became glacial. “Boss, you’re completely awesome in many ways, but you are so off-base with this it’s not even funny.” I rolled my eyes. “I’ve already ramped ‘No Interest’ up to eleven on the dial and, at this point, he doesn’t care if his work suffers.” I took a big gulp of coffee, then ran my fingers through my tangled hair. “Let me deal with it. Normally I’m not into direct confrontation with this sort of shit, but there’s isn’t enough time for it to fizzle out on its own.” Mzatal regarded me with that damned unreadable mask which he’d slipped on as I was talking. Great. Lords weren’t much on being told they were wrong, but it had to be said.

That old if you 'need anything, let me know,' is a total crock. You hear people say it all the time, but you never see anyone actually call up the person who said it and say, "Hey, remember when you said to let you know if i needed anything? Well, I'm feeling really overwhelmed. Could you please come clean my kitchen, I'd feel like I had a bit of a head start." You will never hear someone say that, because then the person asking the other person to clean their kitchen is seen as a helpless, incompetent dick. -Diana Rowland (My life as a white trash zombie)

The memory of the previous nights fun and games rose again. Hell this whole week had been weird. With the attack at the boat launch being the shit flavored ice cream on top of the crazy pie.

The over-weight and out of shape guy who owned the house had apparently decided that having a half-million dollar house meant that he couldn’t afford to hire someone to clean out his gutters. Now he was dead with what looked to me like a broken neck after the ladder had slipped. He’d taken the plunge into his fancy landscaping—complete with rock garden. But hey, his fucking gutters were clean.

This dude could read Pat the Bunnyand make it terrifying.

What did the zombie say to the whore? Keep the tip!