What would a racist call werewolves? Wargs? She kind of liked that one, but suspected that racist bastards didn't read Tolkien.
Life is a God-damned, stinking, treacherous game and nine hundred and ninety-nine men out of a thousand are bastards.
There was quite a lot of competitiveness about it, with everybody wanting to beat not only cancer itself, but also the other people in the room. Like, I realize that this is irrational, but when they tell you that you have, say, a 20 percent chance of living five years, the math kicks in and you figure that’s one in five . . . so you look around and think, as any healthy person would: I gotta outlast four of these bastards.
If cats looked like frogs we'd realize what nasty, cruel little bastards they are. Style. That's what people remember.
One glance and I knew exactly who and what he was. The classic alpha male, the kind who had spurred evolution forward about five million years ago by nailing every female in sight. They charmed, seduced, and behaved like bastards, and yet women were biologically incapable of resisting their magic DNA.
The road to truth is long, and lined the entire way with annoying bastards.
Don't let the bastards grind you down.