#hunter

Can’t this thing go any faster?” Thalia demanded. Zoe glared at her. “I cannot control traffic.” You both sound like my mother,” I said. Shut up!” they both said in union. ↗

— Rick Riordan

#hunters #olympians #percy-jackson #thalia #zoe

Isabelle waved a hand. "No need to worry, big brother. Nothing happened. Of course," she added as Alex'a shoulders relaxed, "I was totally passed-out drunk, so he could really have done whatever he wanted and I wouldn't have woken up." "Oh, please," said Simon. "All I did was tell you the entire plot of Star Wars." "I don't think I remember that," said Isabelle, taking a cookie from the plate on the table. "Oh, yeah? Who was Luke Skywalker's best childhood friend?" "Biggs Darklighter," Isabelle said immediately, and then hit the table with the flat of her hand."That is so cheating! ↗

— Cassandra Clare

#city-of-lost-souls #isabelle-lightwood #mortal-instruments #shadowhunters #simon-lewis

Lydia: Strange how you always remember the pain someone gave you, but seldom the hurt you caused them. ↗

— Sherrilyn Kenyon

#dream-hunter #guardian #lydia #pain #dreams

Ever consider what pets must think of us? I mean, here we come back from a grocery store with the most amazing haul - chicken, pork, half a cow. They must think we're the greatest hunters on earth! ↗

— Anne Tyler

#back #chicken #come #consider #cow

I've seen a dead body, I've seen some pretty gruesome fist fights, I've been a hunter since I was a child, though I don't anymore, I've gutted wild game. ↗

— George Eads

#been #body #child #dead #fights

You're serious?" "As a heart attack." I set my bag down and leaned on the counter. Okay, Hunter Zaccadelli, you could make me dinner. "Stuffed French toast, sweet potato hash and strawberries and cream." "Breakfast for dinner? You rebel, you. ↗

— Chelsea M. Cameron

#dinner #funny #hunter-zaccadelli #my-favorite-mistake #rebel

Funny thing about revenge. It could make a killer out of a nun. ↗

— Kevis Hendrickson

#revenge #rogue-hunter-saga #zyra-zanr #funny

Wildlife, we are constantly told, would run loose across our towns and cities were it not for the sport hunters to control their population, as birds would blanket the skies without the culling services of Ducks Unlimited and other groups. Yet here they are breeding wild animals, year after year replenishing the stock, all for the sole purpose of selling and killing them, deer and bears and elephants so many products being readied for the market. Animals such as deer, we are told, have no predators in many areas, and therefore need systematic culling. Yet when attempts are made to reintroduce natural predators such as wolves and coyotes into these very areas, sport hunters themselves are the first to resist it. Weaker animals in the wild, we hear, will only die miserable deaths by starvation and exposure without sport hunters to control their population. Yet it's the bigger, stronger animals they're killing and wounding--the very opposite of natural selection--often with bows and pistols that only compound and prolong the victim's suffering. ↗

— Matthew Scully

#hunting #death

Why was it that in cases of real love the one who is left does not more often follow the beloved by suicide? Only because the living must bury the dead? Because of the measured rites that must be fulfilled after a death? Because it is as though the one who is left steps for a time upon a stage and each second swells to an unlimited amount of time and he is watched by many eyes? Because there is a function he must carry out? Or perhaps, when there is love, the widowed must stay for the resurrection of the beloved - so that the one who has gone is not really dead, but grows and is created for second time in the soul of the living? Why? ↗

— Carson McCullers

#death

First I smell that smell and am overcome with a sensation of elation. Like a tight faucet turned open, everything floods from me. I scan the view, take a deep breath, and inevitably utter, "God, I love it here." I stride quickly to where the sand is still wet from the previous tide and then, and then I am gone. There is no thinking, just being. I have no awareness of time or of myself. If I am searching for glass, it is rote, with no more or less consciousness than a jellyfish searching for sustenance. It is not mindlessness or oblivion, as I am wholly aware, but in a way that preempts any reality outside of the moment. There I am seaweed, I am water, I am stone, I am fish. I am a grain of sand, warm in the sun. I am reduced to nothing, but part of everything. I am home, I am free, I am one with the sea, I am the primordial me, and the glass is just my excuse to be there. ↗

— Sherry Fields

#home