Pix?” I said. “Pretend for a second that I’m not a hacker.” “I’m a jobber in a tag-team cage match against John Cena and The Rock. My partner just got laid out cold with a folding chair, and the referee is looking the other way.

Seems to me you’ve got two choices: one, you can get in a gunfight with the United States government – because that always ends well – or you can run downstairs, get as many of your boys out through the emergency exits as you can, and order the rest to surrender. Your call, but bail money’s a lot cheaper than a tombstone.

Did you just make that up? Words mean things. And no. I’m a hacker, not a wizard.

At a distance, they looked just boring enough to be important.

But what about objectivity? Aren’t we supposed to report both sides of the story?” “You’re assuming there are two valid sides,” Lionel told him. “That’s just not always true. If somebody is claiming the earth is flat or the moon is made of green cheese, we’re under no obligation to provide them with equal time against people who have the facts on their side.

He held out his hand. “Give it to me,” he hissed as his fingernails lengthened into claws. “If you insist,” I said. Then I shot him in the face.

You’re playing solitaire with no aces in the deck, and you can’t figure out why you never win.

Mob mentality is like wildfire. It spreads fast and hard, and suddenly you find yourself surrounded by really smart people making really bad decisions.

Well hello,” Caitlin said, eyeing the shepherd. “The last time I saw you, you were wearing your heart on your sleeve. Because I ripped it out and put it there.

I’d never broken into a cemetery before. There’s a first time for everything.