Firefight (The Reckoners, #2)

by Brandon Sanderson

“Nice work,” he said. I grinned. “You look like hell, though,” he noted. “I doubt hell has this much Kool-Aid,” I replied.

I knew plenty of women who were pickier with their guns than they were with their shoes.

“This is the true test of a man. He who will stand when others grow complacent.”

She won’t be the first friend I’ve had to put down.”

I hadn’t been a nerd, mind you. I’d just been the type of guy who spent a lot of time by himself, focused entirely on a single consuming interest.

This time, when she’d pointed it at me, she’d flicked the safety on. If that wasn’t true love, I don’t know what was.

A blush looked really good on her. Of course, so would soup, mud, or elephant earwax. Megan on a bad day outshined anyone else I’d ever known.

“Well, I don’t have a lot of experience with dating, but I’ve always heard you’re supposed to pick something you know the girl will enjoy….”

there was a universal law regarding mankind, it was that they’d find a way to ferment anything, given time.

“You know,” she said, “you’re not actually bad at metaphors…” “Thanks!” “…because most of the things you say are similes. Those are really what you’re bad at.”