#he

The quest for seizing that amygdala moment, those crushing seconds of unbearable, incapacitating shock, seizing these moments and not letting them go, dragging them out for as long as is operationally necessary, that, said Sid, is the aim of the Bucha effect. ↗

— Jon Ronson

#men

Father was an atheist; he had even joined the Skeleton Army - a club of men who went about in masks or black faces, with ribald placards and a brass band, to make war upon the Salvation Army. ↗

— A.E. Coppard

#atheist #atheists #men

This mark men and women set on pleasure and pain, Prendick, is the mark of the beast upon them, the mark of the beast from which they came. Pain! Pain and pleasure - they are for us, only so long as we wriggle in the dust... ↗

— H.G. Wells

#men

My promise is fulfilled,” he said. “It is,” she coolly replied. “I shall be sorry to lose you as a soldier. I would be inclined to offer you a more agreeable weapon should you like to stay.” “I am well-trained, woman, unlike most of your men,” the giant scoffed. “The weapon in my hand does not matter as much as the skill behind it.” “I cannot disagree.” She smiled at him and handed him a few rations for his impending journey. “That should last you a day if you are careful. I would give you more, but unfortunately cannot spare anything beyond that.” She stood back from him, expecting him to take his leave, but he only stood in his place, looked down at the rations in his hand, and sighed. “If you wish to revisit your home, you are more than welcome to return to it. I shall not attempt to stop you or alert the others, as promised.” The giant gave her a pensive look and remained in his place. She waited for an explanation owing to his dejected looks and immobility, but received none, leading her to believe the matter of his captivity was graver than she had expected. ↗

— Michelle Franklin

#the-haanta-series #home

The men rode into Beaver Run like two horsemen of the apocalypse, justice on a white horse and war on a red. The few citizens walking through the muddy streets hurried to get out of their path, while those milling on the plank walkways stared as the duo passed. Danger. Long and lean, both sat their saddles with the ease of men accustomed to mastering both the beasts beneath them and the world around them. Their dusters hung to the tops of their boots and were covered in trail dust. Their hats, pulled low, cast shadows over their faces. Rifles were mounted to their horses' saddles and each man had a gun strapped to his thigh. ↗

— Suzanne Ferrell

#men

The downfall of every civilization comes, not from the moral corruption of the common man, but rather from the moral complacency of common men in high places. ↗

— E. Digby Baltzell

#men

And Beauvoir knew then the man was a saint. He's been touched by any number of medical men and women. All healers, all well intentioned, some kind, some rough. All made it clear they wanted him to live, but none had made him feel that his life was precious, was worth saving, was worth something. ↗

— Louise Penny

#life #worth #men

Alric! Stop it!" Pickering snapped at him. "You mustn't let the men see you crying!" Fury flared in Alric, and he spun on the count. "No? No? Look at them! They are dying for me. They are dying on my order! I say they do have a right to see their king! They all have a right to see their king!" Alric wiped the tears from his cheeks and gathered his reins. "I'm tired of this. I'm tired of having my face put in the dirt! I won't stand it. I'm tired of being helpless. That's my city, built by my ancestors! If my people chose to fight, then, by Maribor, I want them to know it's me they fight!" The prince put on his helm, drew his father's large sword and spurred his horse forward, not at the trench but at the castle gate itself. ↗

— Michael J. Sullivan

#men

I’ll tell you a secret about the men in this world. They like young pretty girls, but when pretty teams up with smart and resourceful, it’s more than an elixir, it’s nearly a dad-blamed aphrodisiac. ↗

— Pamela Morsi

#pamela-morsi #the-lovesick-cure #men

...until men desire to control their own passions, evil has rooted itself in their hearts and darkness will rise again. ↗

— Jaime Buckley

#eamon #wanted-hero #men