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“Well, that's not true. I need to work for a living.”“No, that's not true. You think you need to work like this because that's what you've been told. That is merely an idea put into your head. In actuality, you can walk away any time you want.”
Dylan Callens“Well, that's not true. I need to work for a living.”“No, that's not true. You think you need to work like this because that's what you've been told. That is merely an idea put into your head. In actuality, you can walk away any time you want.”
Dylan Callens, Operation Cosmic Teapot“The hatred that I harbored for Lou and Paul faded into the background. The cold, lonely mountains which once filled my mouth and mind with the madness of Zarathustra shifted into a lithium passivity. Even Wagner was nothing more than a jester for some cathartic writing, allowing me to purge the bales of contempt that I had for the man.”
Dylan Callens, Operation Cosmic Teapot“What’s the matter for you? You wanna see a stereotypa, suck on my Italian sausage and…”Einstein interrupted by leaping out of his chair, hovering over Da Vinci with his eyes as wide open as possible. His long pointy tongue stuck out like a frog ready to snap at a fly.“Oh, you wanna licka my bocce balls, do you?”
Dylan Callens, Operation Cosmic Teapot“Disguised in a handlebar mustache with a ten gallon hat hanging low against his brow, Loki moseyed into Odin's party, despite the fact that he wasn't invited. Being dressed like Juan Valdez in a room full of people dawning Viking braids and pointy horned hats, however, tended to call attention to oneself. Odin's wife, Frigg, noticed Loki the moment that he stepped through the door, “What the Hel are you doing here? You weren't invited.”
Dylan Callens, Operation Cosmic Teapot“We should have smashed through the door long ago,” grunted Thor. Everyone had always thought of Thor as Lennie from Of Mice and Men: too big and too slow. The chief difference being that while Lenny accidentally hugged little animals to death, Thor had a penchant for beating the shit out of them with his war hammer, Mjolnir.”
Dylan Callens, Operation Cosmic Teapot“He passed the lighter down the table until Descartes held it in one hand while setting the greasy cylinder down on the table. After smoothing it out, Descartes sparked up the lighter. With the lighter drawn near the grease, the aroma of burnt hair filled the board room.”
Dylan Callens, Operation Cosmic Teapot“I had lunch with my brothers,” Mark said, his face serious. “While you were still asleep. They told me. About Corey and that stupid set-up you agreed to where you’d pretend not to be my wife . . .”“I never agreed to pretend not to be your wife,” Dylan said.Mark’s face grew serious then. “That’s what it amounted to in the end though, didn’t it? You pulled away from me in exchange for me getting . . . what?”“Your career back,” Dylan said. “Your li”
Nia Forrester, The Seduction of Dylan Acosta“I'm proud of you, Bliss," he said."Michael's sword released the souls that were trapped in your blood. You freed them. You freed me.""But now I'm never going to see you again, am I?" she asked.Dylan smiled. "It's unlikely. But I never say never.'"I wish you wouldn't go. I'll miss you so much," Bliss said."I'll miss you too."Dylan put his hand up, and so did Bliss. But this time, instead of touching air, she felt his warm hand grasping her cold one. She looked at Allegra. Somehow, she knew her mother was making this happen. Dylan leaned down, and she could feel his lips, soft and inviting, gently kissing hers. Then Dylan was gone. But Bliss did not feel anguished. She felt at peace. Dylan was not broken and incomplete anymore. He was whole.”
Melissa de la Cruz, The Van Alen Legacy“Dylan, while he is in the shower and he and Joss are only seperated by the curtain and his invisibility:Dylan: "Maybe if you would come in here and scrub my back it would speed things up."Joss: "I'm not invisible."Dylan: "I know this.”
Susan Bischoff, Heroes 'Til Curfew“Everybody is waiting for cooler weather--and I am just waiting for you--. (Bob Dylan in a letter)”
Suze Rotolo, A Freewheelin' Time: Greenwich Village in the Sixties, Bob Dylan and Me