Storm Front (The Dresden Files, #1)

by Jim Butcher

Maybe my values are outdated, but I come from an old school of thought. I think that men ought to treat women like something other than just shorter, weaker men with breasts.

“You keep saying ‘she,’” she challenged me. “Why the hell do you think that?” I gestured toward the room. “Because you can’t do something that bad without a whole lot of hate,” I said. “Women are better at hating than men. They can focus it better, let it go better. Hell, witches are just plain meaner than wizards.

Smiling always seems to annoy people more than actually insulting them. Or maybe I just have an annoying smile.

I react badly to fear. I don’t usually have the good sense to run, or hide—I just try to smash whatever it is that is making me afraid. It’s a primitive sort of thing, and one I don’t question too much.

“Stop,” he told me, his voice calm and confident. People don’t speak with that kind of absolute authority unless they have a gun in their hands. I stopped.