Constant: I guess somebody up there likes me.
Rumfoord: What a charming concept--someone's liking you up there.
"From between Beatrice's clenched teeth came a frail, keen, sustained note so high as to be almost above the range of the human ear. The sound bore the same ghastly promise as the whistle of fins on a falling bomb."
— Dec 11, 2015 07:46AM
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