“A loud booming noise interrupted us, and we saw a flash of light off to my right. People near the other garages screamed.

"There, you see?" asked Abe, quite pleased with himself. "A new gate. Perfect timing.”

— Richelle Mead , book Last Sacrifice

Source: Last Sacrifice

Last update June 3, 2021. History

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Do you have more details about the quote "A loud booming noise interrupted us, and we saw a flash of light off to my right. People near the other garages screame…" by Richelle Mead?

Richelle Mead 816

American writer 1976

Ronald Knox (1888–1957) English priest and theologian

Definition of a baby, quoted by Colin Blakemore in his 1976 Reith Lectures, Mechanics of the Mind
The earliest print occurrence is credited to Elizabeth I. Adamson in the July 1937 issue of Reader's Digest, according to Quote Investigator https://quoteinvestigator.com/2017/01/10/baby/#note-15186-10.
Disputed

“Still I only feel alive when the view is flashing, alarms going off in my head…
I want to grab you and just kiss you; maybe I should sit down. No sense in cashing us now.
Yeah, I only feel alright when the view is flashing, bombs going off in my head…
I want to grab you, want to scream at you, no icing me down. The party's crashing us now. The party's crashing us now.”

Kevin Barnes

"The Party's Crashing Us," from of Montreal's Sunlandic Twins (2005)

“The girl at her music sits in another sort of light, the fitful, overcast light of lie, by which we see ourselves and others only imprefectly, and seldom..-Girl, Interrupted”

Susanna Kaysen book Girl, Interrupted

Source: Girl, Interrupted (1994)
Context: I've gone back to the Frick since then to look at her and at the two other Vermeers. Vermeers, after all, are hard to come by, and the one in Boston has been stolen. The other two are self-contained paintings. The people in them are looking at each other -- the lady and her maid, the soldier and his sweetheart. Seeing them is peeking at them through a hole in a wall. And the wall is made of light -- that entirely credible yet unreal Vermeer light. Light like this does not exist, but we wish it did. We wish the sun could make us young and beauitful, we wish our clothes could glisten and ripple against our skins, most of all, we wish that everyone we knew could be brightened simply by our looking at them, as are the maid with the letter and the soldier with the hat. The girl at her music sits in another sort of light, the fitful, overcast light of life, by which we see ourselves and others only imperfectly, and seldom.