Best 73 quotes of Susan Ee on MyQuotes

At any other time, we would have been sheep in the company of wolves. But now, we have what people might call "presence".

But I realize now that the toughest choices, the ones that will haunt us for the rest of our lives, are ones that my mom is still sheltering me from.

Call me a sentimentalist, but I like the idea of you in one piece. Besides, she’s not the only one who might be interested in your tasty flesh.’ I tilt my head. ‘Who told you I was tasty?’ ‘Haven’t you heard that old saying? Tasty as a fool?’ ‘You made that up.’ ‘Huh. Must be an angelic saying. It’s to warn the foolish about things that go bump in the night.’ ‘It’s daytime.’ ‘Ah. So you don’t deny that you’re foolish?

Come on, admit it, Pooky Bear," I said to the sword. "You love your new look. All the other swords will be jealous.

Dee checks to make sure his mic is turned off. ‘It’s not about common sense.’ Dee surveys the crowd with some pride. Dum also checks to make sure his mic is off. ‘It’s not about logic or practicality or anything that makes a remote amount of sense.’ He sports a wide grin. ‘That’s the whole point of a talent show,’ says Dee, doing a spin onstage. ‘It’s illogical, chaotic, stupid, and a whole hell of a lot of fun.’ Dee nods to Dum. ‘It’s what sets us apart from monkeys. What other species puts on talent shows?

Do not let the scorpions hurt you twice just because you're freaking over the possibility.

Don't you know a heartfelt declaration of love when you hear one?

Dum walks backwards, talking to us. “We’re going back to high school where our survival instincts are at their finest.” “If you get the urge to graffiti the walls or beat up your old math teacher,” says Dee, “do it where the birds can’t see you.

Ein Mensch zu sein, bedeutet nicht, irgendwo hineinzupassen oder so anzusehen wie der Rest von uns. Es geht darum, er man ist und was man bereit ist zu opfern.

He doesn't even like me. I let the thought roll around in my head. Anything I feel during that time gets shoved into the vault with the ten-foot-think door slamming as soon as it goes in, just in case something in there has any intention of crawling out.

He is the one pocket of warmth in a sea of ice.

He leans down, and his lips hover a hair’s breadth from mine. I close my eyes, feeling the tingle of anticipation. Then he presses his lips to mine. His warmth spreads out from my lips down into my chest and stomach. Time stops, and I forget about everything else – the apocalypse, my enemies, watching eyes, monsters in the night. All I feel is the kiss. All I am is Raffe’s girl.

Here and there, plumes of dark smoke reach into the sky like the fingers of a drowning man reaching up for the last time.

He sighs as if a little disgusted with himself. ‘Lately, I seem to be all about you.’ ‘What makes you say that?’ I wish my voice didn’t sound so breathless. ‘I’m sitting on the hard floor outside your door while you take a cozy little nap, aren’t I?

Hey, I saw your mom. Told her your sister was in the grove and that you’d be going there in a minute too.’ ‘Thanks. Does she seem all right?’ ‘She was pretty excited. Gave me a hug and a kiss,’ says Dum. ‘Really?’ I ask. ‘Do you know how long it’s been since she’s given me a hug and a kiss?’ ‘Well, yeah, a lot of women find that they can’t resist my charms. They’re all over me for any excuse they can find.’ He takes a swig of pee-green Gatorade as if he thought that was sexy.

How do you know this is Paige?” I ask, pretty sure this is another fantasy. It’s one thing to have Dad’s tracking device. It’s another to actually be tracking Paige, considering she needs to have the transmitter on her. “The devil tells me.” She lowers her head, looking troubled. “If I promise him certain things,” she mumbles. “Okay.” I rub my forehead, trying to be patient. There’s a certain art to getting information out of my mom. You need one foot in reality and one foot in her world to get a better picture of what she’s talking about. “How does the devil know where Paige is?” She looks up at me as if I’d asked the dumbest question in the world. “The transmitter, of course.

I am just a teenage.' 'History is filled with teenagers who lead the fight. Joan of Arc. Okita Soji, the samurai. Alexander the Great.They were all teenagers when they began leading their armies. I think we're back to those times again, kid.

I am just a teenager.' 'History is filled with teenagers who lead the fight. Joan of Arc. Okita Soji, the samurai. Alexander the Great.They were all teenagers when they began leading their armies. I think we're back to those times again, kid.

If any of you are injured, take a seat in this fine classroom.” Dee opens up the nearest door and peeks in. It’s a classroom with a life-sized skeleton hanging on a stand. “Bones will keep you company while you wait for the doctor.

If I’m super lucky, I might be able to fight him off and maybe even the warrior after him, but it’s not a long-term survival strategy. By long-term, I mean the next ten minutes. We’re screwed.

If I were human, I’d plow the nicest farm for you.’ He sounds completely sincere. ‘Better than anyone else’s. It would have golden pineapples, the juiciest grapes, and the most flavorful radishes in the entire world.’ I just stare at him, trying to figure out if he’s joking. I think he’s serious. ‘You haven’t been to a lot of farms, have you, Raffe? Most of us aren’t farmers anymore anyway.’ ‘That wouldn’t diminish my little human commitment to you.

If the only one who can kill an angel can’t do it, then who can?’ It’s a good question, one that takes me a minute to come up with an answer. ‘Obadiah West can. Him and his freedom fighters. I’m just a teenager.’ ‘History is filled with teenagers who lead the fight. Joan of Arc. Okita Soji, the samurai. Alexander the Great. They were all teenagers when they began leading their armies. I think we’re back to those times again, kid.

If we get separated there’s not much hope of us ever meeting anywhere, but I need to keep up the pretense of hope because that may be all we have.

I guess if I'd really thought things through, I would have been prepared for the screams.

I'll be sure not to let anyone but you carry me in her arms." He turns and leaves the kitchen before I can figure out what to make of his comment. A sense of humor is one more thing I don't think angels should have. The fact that his sense of humor is corny makes it even more wrong.

I look up to say something but he puts his finger to my lips and whispers, “Don’t talk. You’ll just spoil my fantasy of rescuing an innocent damsel in distress as soon as you open your mouth.

I’m gonna be sick,” I say. “I’m ordering you not to,” says Obi. “Ah, don’t say that,” says Dee-Dum. “She’s a born rebel. She’ll puke just to make a point.” “You’re here for a reason, Penryn,” says Obi. “And throwing up in my car is not part of it. Buck up, Soldier.” “I’m not your soldier.” “Not yet,” says Obi with a wide grin. “Why don’t you fill us in on what happened at the aerie? Tell us everything you saw and heard, even if you think it won’t be helpful.” “And if you have to get sick,” says Dee-Dum, “shoot for Obi’s direction, not mine.

I´m pretty sure i saw Zuckerberg digging the latrine ditch beside Raffe at the camp a few days ago. I guess a billion dollars doesn't buy much respect in the World After.

I never thought about it before, but I’m proud to be human. We’re ever so flawed. We’re frail, confused, violent, and we struggle with so many issues.

I shove the wooden debris out of the way until I see the smudged face of the teddy bear. “There she is.” I carefully pull out the bear and sword. I proudly flip the bridal veil skirt to show him the scabbard. Raffe stares at the disguised sword for a second before commenting. “Do you know how many kills this sword has?” “It’s a perfect disguise, Raffe.” “This sword is not just an angel sword. She’s an archangel sword. Better than an angel sword, in case that’s not clear. She intimidates the other angel swords.” “What, the other swords quake in their scabbards when they see her?” I walk over to the pile of scattered junk by Captain Jake’s boat. “Yes, if you must know,” he says following me. “She was made for ultimate respect. How is she supposed to get that disguised as a teddy bear in a bridal gown?” “It’s not a bridal gown, it’s a skirt for her scabbard. And it’s cute.” “She hates cute. She wants to maim and scar cute.” “Nobody hates cute.” “Angel swords do.” He arches his brow and stares down at me. I guess I won’t tell him how many cutesy angel figurines and pictures we used to have in the World Before.

Is she your Daughter of Man?' He nods toward me. 'She is a Daughter of Man. And she is traveling with me. But she's not my Daughter of Man.' 'Oh. So she's available?' ask Howler. Raffe gives him an icy look. 'We're all single now, you know,' says Hawk. 'They can't punish us twice for the same crime' says Cyclone. 'And now that we know you're out of the race Commander, that makes me the next best-looking in line,' says Howler. 'Enough.' Raffe doesn't look amused.'You're not her type.' The Watchers smile knowingly. 'How do you know?' I ask. Raffe turns to me. 'Because angels aren't your type. You hate them, remember?

It occurs to me that I might be in the unprecedented position of being able to glean some intelligence on them. Despite what the gang leaders would have the rest of us believe, angel parts are always taken from dead or dying angels, I’m sure of it. What I would do with angel intel, I don’t know. But it can’t hurt to gain a little knowledge. Tell that to Adam and Eve.

It’s amazing how many times we need to go against our survival instincts to survive.

It takes me a while to figure out what to do. I finally decide to slice the bottom of a teddy bear and jam it onto the hilt. I’ll just have to pull off the bear if I need to use the sword. “Come on, admit it, Pooky Bear,” I say to the sword. “You love your new look. All the other swords will be jealous.

I want to see this video," I say. "Seriously?" asks Tattoo. "Want popcorn too?

I watch the beautiful performance with an ache in my chest. Then, just when I can’t stand the sadness anymore, a dancer floats out from the side of the stage. A dancer in ragged clothes, filthy and half starved. He’s not even in ballet shoes. He’s just barefoot as he glides out to take his place in the dance. The other dancers turn to him, and it’s clear that he is one of them. One of the lost ones. By the look on their faces, they weren’t expecting him. This is not part of the practiced show. He must have seen them onstage and joined in. Amazingly, the dance continues without a missed beat. The newcomer simply glides into place, and the final dancer who should have danced solo with her missing partner dances with the newcomer. It is full of joy, and the ballerina actually laughs. Her voice is clear and high, and it lifts us all.

Men tend to fight differently with a woman than they do with men. The overwhelming majority of fights between men and women start with the man attacking from behind, and almost instantly end on the ground with the woman on the bottom. So a good female fighter needs to know how to fight on her back.

My friends call me Wrath," says Raffe. "My enemies call me Please Have Mercy. What's your name, soldier boy?" Raffe's mocking tone brings a flush to my cheeks for no reason.

My head seems to be rumbling. Then I realize it’s the sky. It’s thunder. Suddenly, warm raindrops fall on us, spraying us until we’re completely wet. Raffe ignores it and continues to kiss me. We hold each other, pressing tighter and harder together. We fly in each other’s arms in the rain over a smoldering hell.

My litter sister looks up at me. Mom was right. Her eyes are the same as they've always been. Brown eyes fringed with long lashes and steeped with the memory of sweetness and light, laughter and joy - trapped in this mangled corpse-like face. "It's all right, baby girl," I whisper into her hair as I hug her. "I'm here. I came for you." Her face crumples and her eyes shine. "You came for me." I stroke her hair. It's as silky as ever.

My mother hasn’t asked the questions that a normal person would ask, and I’m grateful for it. It’s like the world has become so crazy that it makes sense to her now. I turn on the engine and drive us out. ‘Thanks, Mom. For coming to rescue me.’ My voice comes out reedy and a little wobbly. I clear my throat. ‘Not every mom would do that in a world like this.

NO!" Raffe grips me as if he can bind my soul to my body. An upside-down view of the doorway shows up in my field of vision. Smoke waft through it. Although the pain obscures Raffe's warmth, I feel the presure of his hug, the rocking of our bodies back and forth as he repeats the word, "No.

Nothing short of the end of the world would get our eco-conscious techies to toss their latest gadgets onto the street.

Of course she’s right. How bad are things when your clinically insane mother is more rational than you are?

Of course you’re fine.” She keeps walking. “You’re the devil’s bride and these are his creatures.” I slip the blade into the scabbard and put the bear back on top. “I’m not the devil’s bride.” “He carried you out of the fire and is letting you visit us from the dead. Who else would have those privileges except his bride?” She sees me once in a guy’s arms and she has us married already. I wonder what Raffe would think of my mom being his mother-in-law.

One second, we are surrounded by angels holding their swords. The next second, one of their arms drops and his sword thunks to the grass like a lead weight. The angel stares at his blade uncomprehendingly. Another sword drops. Then another. Then a whole bunch, until all the other unsheathed swords fall, thudding on the grass like subjects bowing down to their queen. The angels stare at the swords at their feet in utter shock. Then everyone looks at me. Actually, it’s probably more accurate to say they’re looking at my sword. “Whoa.” That’s about the most intelligent thing I can say right now. Did Raffe say something about an archangel sword intimidating other angel swords if she could gain their respect? I swivel my eyes to look at the blade in my hands. Was that you, Pooky Bear?

Raffe arches his brow at me. ‘You should be with a nice human boy. One who takes your orders and puts up with your demands. Someone who dedicates his life to keeping you safe and well fed. Someone who can make you happy. Someone you can be proud of.’ He waves his hand at the Watchers. ‘There’s nobody like that in this lot.’ I glare at him. ‘I’ll be sure to pass him by you first before I’ – settle for – ‘choose him.’ ‘You do that. I’ll let him know what’s expected of him.’ ‘Assuming he survives your interrogation,’ says Howler. ‘Big assumption,’ says Cyclone. ‘I’d like to be there to watch,’ says Hawk. ‘Should be interesting.

Show me your memories of the kiss.” I close my eyes. The heat creeps up my cheeks, which is silly because the sword was there when the kiss happened and saw the whole thing. So what if I’m curious about what he felt? “Oh, come on. Do we have to do this again?” Nothing. “That last one was totally awful. I need a little comfort. It’s just a small favor. Please?” Nothing. “Extra ribbons and bows for you,” I try to sound like I mean it. “Maybe even sparkly makeup on the teddy bear.” Still nothing. “Traitor.” I know that’s a funny statement since the sword is actually being loyal to Raffe but I don’t care.

So does anyone have a good survival strategy, or is there no hope for getting out of this nightmare?’ asks the Colonel. ‘We came up with a big, fat zero. I don’t know how we’re going to survive the blood hunt,’ says Dee. ‘That wasn’t the nightmare I was referring to,’ says the Colonel. ‘Death by stupid comments is what I was talking about.

So that’s your sister?” asks Dee in a quiet voice. “Yeah.” “The one you risked your life for?” “Yeah.” The twins nod politely in that automatic way that people do when they don’t want to say something insulting. “Your family any better?” I ask. Dee and Dum look at each other, assessing. “Nah,” says Dee. “Not really,” says Dum at the same time.