427 Quotes by Christina Engela

The weapon he held in his sweaty grip was one of a small consignment of prototypes received at the last port of call. The experts said it was the most powerful hand weapon in the known universe. He choked. That would soon be put to the test!

Denying the facts is what enables people to hate and to persecute marginalized and threatened minority groups. Labeling the advocacy, educational and informational initiatives of these persecuted minority groups dismissively as 'propaganda for the gay agenda' undermines, belittles and trivializes the cause of those whose right to exist is under threat.

Start thinking for yourself, ask 'why?' and even venture to say 'why should I?' and pretty soon you will have half the world at your throat for being a 'trouble maker'.

Timaset didn’t need a ship – especially not a flying museum piece! And as far as he knew, a dodgy plasma injector could drop you smack into a wormhole ending somewhere on the other side of the universe with no way back. Well, he could always sell the damn thing. Couldn’t he? He could use the money. Damn, he could always use the money! Maybe the crew would want to buy it over from him?

Be assured, a God who spoke the universe into existence would not need grains of dust to fight holy wars for him.

Bullying is not a character-building experience.

It’s a general rule – a law of space, as it was a law of the sea in the old days, that ships had to respond to distress calls. Unless of course it places their own lives in danger. Bearing this thought in mind, as you can probably tell by my writing, my fingers are beginning to tremble slightly.

If a science, such as archaeology or palaeontology, has reached a point where it rejects apparent evidence not on its own failings or lack of merit, but solely on the basis that it challenges the current perception of the past or upsets a carefully constructed framework or timeline, or view held by a ruling body – it has become a belief-based system, not an evidence-based system, and has abandoned reason and scientific principle altogether.

It was a mild winter’s evening in ‘Japp’s Saloon and Speakeasy’, in the northwest corner of the only legal red-light area of the city. (The S.O.D.s believed in crime management.) Timaset Skooch leaned back in the aluminum framed chair, checking his cards carefully while wearing his best poker face. Across the table from him sat Jonn Deire, a large man who was trying very hard to out-poker face him and who didn’t enjoy jokes about his name much.