James Patterson Quotes

Some kids get called "bundles of joy" or "slices of heaven" or "dreams come true." We got "the fifty-fourth generation of DNA experiments." Doesn't have the same warm and fuzzy feel. But maybe I'm oversensitive.

In case you guys didn't catch last week's episode, I'm out of the flock," I informed them. "Angel has no allegiance to me. She's wanted me gone for a long time. And in case you didn't catch all the episodes from the past year, Angel is... unbalanced." "Untrustworthy," Fang seconded. "Unpredictable," Jeb added. "Dangerous," Dylan chimed in.

Why, the little Voice inside my head, of course. You mean you don't have one? I did.

Honesty is always good, except when it's better to lie.

I'm magnetic," she whispered, half awed and half horrified. "I hope you don't start sticking to fridges and stuff," I said in disbelief. Fang dropped down next to me, and the Gasman joined us, squishing in next to Nudge. "What's going on?" Fang asked. "I'm Magnet Girl!" Nudge said, already coming to terms with her new skill.

What are they teaching these thugs? -Why are there so many of them? -What is the Institute for Higher Aeronautics? -How many of the are there? There are only six of us! Why? -Why is DC public transportation so weird? -Why don't we mug those Eraser goons for money more often? -Fang's Blog

I led the way toward the crowd, trying to look casual, like, Fly? Me? Nah.

Excellent. They were flammable.

Angel wanted them all to burn in h-e- double toothpicks forever.

Please, sit down," Sharon said with another hair toss. I made a mental note to practice doing that in a mirror the next time I saw one. it seemed a useful skill, right up there with roundhouse kicks.

I took a bite of cookie and chewed. “Hmmm,” I said, trying not to spit crumbs. “Clear vanilla notes, too-sweet chocolate chips, distinct flavor of brown sugar. A decent cookie, not spectacular. Still, a good-hearted cookie, not pretentious.” I turned to Fang. “What say you?” “It’s fine.” Some people just don’t have what it takes to appreciate a cookie.

Jane-Sweetie, we've talked about your weight-" my mother began. I'm only eight years old," I said. "How about I promise to be anorexic later?

We will destroy you,” the Flyboys droned. “You have no escape.” That was the most imaginative, threatening thing the whitecoats had programmed these ’droids to say? “Talk about lame,” Fang muttered.

Fear is not the answer, not ever.

There's no such thing as a kid who hates reading. There are kids who love reading, and kids who are reading the wrong books.