It prob­a­bly goes with­out say­ing that I had a mas­sive cy­ber-crush on Art3mis.
— Ernest Cline, Ready Player One, p.35
The gov­ern­ment has been spy­ing on all of us our whole lives, but at least we get to have our fa­vorite snacks.
— Ernest Cline, Armada, p.212
Eyeing a slen­der fe­male crouched alone at a nearby bench, Grignr ad­vanced wish­ing to whole­somely oc­cupy his time.
— Jim Theis, The Eye of Argon, ch.2
Not a fetch­ing woman,’ Jake said to him­self.
— William Shatner, Tekwar, p.182
If the hope of an in­di­vid­ual seek­ing hu­man con­nec­tion is to merge his or her mind’s pur­suit with the com­mon in­ter­ests of so­ci­ety, they might soon find them­selves shorn while croon­ing, BAHHH-BAHHH-BILDERBERG.
— Sean Penn, Bob Honey Who Just Do Stuff, p.15
I, Titus Uno, Certified Public Accountant, Forensic Certified Public Accountant, and Chartered Global Management Accountant, de­cided that I, Titus Uno, Certified Public Accountant, Forensic Certified Public Accountant, and Chartered Global Management Accountant, needed a global des­ig­na­tion to be rec­og­nized and re­spected world­wide, so I, Titus Uno, Certified Public Accountant, Forensic Certified Public Accountant, and Chartered Global Management Accountant, earned the Chartered Global Management Accountant des­ig­na­tion.
— Dwight David Thrash, The Forensic Certified Public Accountant and the Cremated 64-SQUARES Financial Statements, p.7-8
We may have lost eight hours and fif­teen min­utes, part­ner, but we gained seven days of mys­tery, drama, ex­cite­ment, com­pas­sion, hor­ror, and ro­mance along with many, many other words that could never ex­plain the trip we took, truck­ing through time.
— Charles E. Harris, Trucking Through Time, p.329
She wraps her arms around her­self and ap­proaches the waste­bas­ket with cau­tion.
— E. L. James, The Mister, p.85
He found his un­cle and Sir Nathaniel in the study, hav­ing an early cup of tea, am­pli­fied to the di­men­sions of a pos­si­ble break­fast.
— Bram Stoker, The Lair of the White Worm, p.97
You,’ Franjean of­fered haugh­tily as Thorn re­stored vi­sion to his own eyes, smell.’
— Chris Claremont, Shadow Moon, p.389