Purple Haze Feedback Quotes

This account will stop doing its usual scheduled posts for the next 24 hours. Please retweet or do whatever you can for Palestine and make sure to spread awareness about what's happening in Palestine. #FreePalestine #CeasefireNOW

And that time limit was perfect for keeping the business under control. If someone tried to stock up on it, or water it down, it was obvious.

Sale had been keeping an eye on the dagger. In the same way that Mista was a gunslinger, Vittorio was a knife specialist. But in a battle between stands, an ordinary blade would be nearly useless...so what secret function did it serve?

"Giorno joined the gang specifically to defeat the boss and take over. Buccellati was helping him all along. Makes sense, doesn't it? You don't look surprised. The moment he joined our team, Giorno was no ordinary recruit.

Fugo shivered. Every time he thought about Giorno, a chill ran down his spine. He hadn't worked with Giorno for long, but when he thought back, he couldn't think of a single thing the blonde boy had said that was wrong.

He was taught everything that could be taught, and deemed to be something of a genius in virtually every field. His education was correspondingly accelerated.

This should have been a relief, but instead, Fugo found himself extremely...out of sorts. Bitterness bubbled up inside him, and it was all he could do to keep it inside. It was a thorny bile that burned as if on fire, yet remained terribly cold.

The anger she'd felt then had never left her. It was one of the main reasons she detested humanity. Why she was quick to judge.

Part of her remained convinced that right below the surface, everyone was like the bastards that had killed Toto. Her sister's murder had only cemented this state of mind; there was little chance of it changing again.

He patted her head tenderly, but never took his eyes off Massimo. "You hear me, Massimo? You're the heart of this team. We only exist for you." "But you're the leader, Vladimir. I just do what you say."

If you look towards the sea, you have a glorious view, but in all other directions things get claustrophobic. The contrast proves a source of great interest to tourists, but for the locals...well, you'd have to live there to know.

"Bruno Buccellati, the one who died? They say he was very good. Giorno trusted him completely. You were wasted on him." The story as she'd heard it was a little different, but... "Yeah," Fugo said, having no argument with that.

"But the reaction's too powerful...too raw. He didn't take this as a drug." As she muttered, something bizarre happened to the wall behind her. It moved. The flat, solid surface...rippled, like the surface of a pond.

"I asked Mista the same question. He said he thought Giorno was lucky, someone who'd bring luck to the team. You see what I mean?" "Um..."

There was a sudden crackle in his throat, and something came flying out. He'd coughed up a scab from a wound on the inside of his throat. "Like, they say they don't ever feel alive, not really. I'm serious, no legs being pulled, serrrrrious bizzzzznesss."

There was no glimmer, no sign of what he might become. No dream, no hope, no passion. Only the hostility that came tumbling out of his mouth. I-Is he really part of the narcotics team? The team that turned an eleven figure profit?

For a second, Fugo didn't know what he meant. When he saw that, Buccellati nodded. "If you've got nowhere better to go, what say you help me with my work?" At long last, Fugo realized the young gangster had been interviewing him. "You mean...join your gang?"

Sale went flying, rolling across the ground. Impossible, he thought. He'd struck the boy's chest! He looked up, and Vittorio was doubled over, clutching his chest, in obvious pain. "Unh..." he groaned, sweat pouring down his face. But he should have been dead.

Sitting limp on the ground, her frame was withered and frail, her pale neck trembling under the weight of her head, looking like it might snap at any second. "La, lala, ley lo ley la, ley, la la......."

More than one church bore trademarks of both Arabic styles and Norse. As a trade center in the middle of the sea, it had been a part of all history.

That is, Fugo and Sheila E used Purple Haze and Voodoo Child to carry them and Murolo, whose stand was not really suited to feats of strength. Fugo had to be very careful not to release his virus.