The Time Walker Quotes

“This river of time is just for travelers. It's not the destination.”
― Abigail C. Edwards, The Time Walker

“A single sip of the famed Hercules Chuck—a dangerously potent beverage served in a beer stein with a single dehydrated elderberry drifting around the bottom—is akin to receiving succeeding punches to the throat and gut, by knuckles studded with bricks. The cursed beverage then proceeds to either sit in your stomach and burn holes through its lining, or make its miserable way back up the gastrointestinal tract and result in the most painful bile imaginable.
The ability to hold one’s Hercules Chuck is a contested attribute, coveted by many a time walker. Manuel is one of these.”
― Abigail C. Edwards, The Time Walker

“I won’t fight your battles. Bitch.”
― Abigail C. Edwards, The Time Walker

“What did I tell you last time, Manuel? What did I say would happen if you came back?”
Manuel clears his throat and desperately hopes this isn’t a rhetorical question. He tries to meet her gaze. "Ah. Something about shooting and stuffing me, I think.”
Her gun twitches. “Face front.” He does.
“Ditch?”
The bartender coughs. “She said: ‘I’ll put a hole in your head for every one of those drinks, and turn you into a disgusting display of human taxidermy.”
“Did you really say that?” Manuel forces a laugh. “He was here? I don’t remember him being here.”
Ditch shakes his head, solemn.
“No,” she says, “I make all my employees memorize that.”
― Abigail C. Edwards, The Time Walker

“If you ask folks at Mike’s Monodimensional Black Market to name the most feared patron, they will, without an instant of hesitation, point out Hobo José—a terrifying man-creature who slinks around the border of the market, dressed in tarnished chain mail and a number of lacy $oral scarves which have been glued together to form a clumpy sort of cape. He mumbles and grumbles to himself incessantly, but the only word anyone’s heard him say—to date—is less of a word and more of an aggressive, constipated grunt. He has one hand, and it never lets go of a battered old briefcase. No one knows what’s in the briefcase, and no one has ever been brave enough or stupid enough to ask.
Everyone fears him, though no one is quite sure why.”
― Abigail C. Edwards, The Time Walker

“Manuel sighs happily and sits back in his hammock chair. “So many friends. All gathered here together, just because they care about what I have to say.” The chair spins so he is facing the window. “What a life.”
“None of us wants to be here, Manuel,” says Marie.”
― Abigail C. Edwards, The Time Walker

“You know I’m loyal to the fleet. Fairly respectful toward Isabella.”
“I mean, you sent her a pretty mean birthday card last year, but okay.”
― Abigail C. Edwards, The Time Walker

“Manuel raises his eyebrows. “Interesting.” He peers down at Greyfoot. “How do you like our Festival, then? Never gotten the opinion of a local, but here we are of all places. Huh! Life is funny. So I assume you’ve been witness to Santiago de Tarragona’s Greatest Hits and Whistles. What do you think?”
He waits, as if expecting an actual response. Greyfoot stares at him blankly.
“That’s the name of his record,” says Marjani. “We have it on vinyl.”
“His songs,” someone calls out. “On his album.”
Greyfoot is not going to get through his particular interaction without some sort of answer. He sees that now. He clears his throat. “I don’t know. I don’t think I’ve heard it.”
― Abigail C. Edwards, The Time Walker

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Deeps smiles. “Did you want to look into my dreamy blue eyes?”
― Abigail C. Edwards, The Time Walker

“You sort of look like the type to rob pyramids,” says a woman of the Court.
“Oh!” says the man on trial, one Jefferson R. Deeps. "Thank you.”
― Abigail C. Edwards, The Time Walker

“They sing to her, over the waves. The wind carries the long-forgotten song that all lost ships sing. A requiem for the lost lives and a warning to those who will follow in their path.
“Even the mighty will fall
Hear now the wind-wandered breath
The death rattle of ancient wood
And the deep’s long-lost souls.”
― Abigail C. Edwards, The Time Walker

“Sorry,” Greyfoot hedges, “if this is a personal sort of question, but are you insane?”
― Abigail C. Edwards, The Time Walker

“His list of natural attributes are as follows: long, glorious blond hair; rather nice teeth; height (he is six-three and very proud); whistling. The list of his shortcomings is rather longer, but he doesn’t acknowledge their existence, so it doesn’t matter.”
― Abigail C. Edwards, The Time Walker