Quotes from Genevieve Cogman

Irene felt a desperate surge of nostalgia for her Library. Her life was more than just airship chases, cyborg alligator attacks, and hanging out with this alternate universe's nearest analogue to Sherlock Holmes. She was a Librarian, and the deepest, most fundamental part of her life involved a love of books. Right now, she wanted nothing more than to shut the rest of the world out and have nothing to worry about except the next page of whatever she was reading.

I think he and the Princess are engaged in an unofficial game of Who Can Show They're More Important by Arriving Last, not that either of them would admit it.

Alberich was a figure out of nightmare. He was the one Librarian who'd betrayed the Library and got away with it and was still somewhere out there.

Kostchei looked at her,his eyes liquid ice, and Irene found herself stuttering to a halt and closing her mouth. He had more presence in that glare than some Fae lords she'd faced down. It wasn't psychic powers, as some people would have described them. It was simply alpha teacher, channelled with a side order of extra ice and public humiliation, and it worked far too well.

This sense of possibility might not last, of course Nothing ever did. But she wasn't going to spoil it by looking too far ahead. They were safe in the Library, and the Library would endure.

Is anyone up there?" [...] The natural human response was to shout, No! Which said something about humanity.

Life was much easier before I had to worry about everyone else worrying,' Irene muttered. 'It's called growing up, dear. It comes with staying alive.

Si trattava di trovare delle opere uniche di narrativa e salvarle, portandole in un luogo fuori dal tempo e dallo spazio.

Irene had no objection to stealing a good strategy, any more than to stealing a good book.

One of the werewolves tried to break away from the attacking mob of otters and crocodiles to get at them, but a persistent baby alligator (Observe the Young of the Species, Only Two Feet Long) chomped on its ankle and dragged it back into the mêlée.

That instead of running directly back to your assigned world and your work – and your prince – you're staying in the Library for long enough to have coffee. And not just a cup, but a whole pot. Has it been a bad few days?

He'd completely neglected the subject: there had been plenty of material on the current non-Fae situation, but hardly any on the Fae themselves, their political implications, and their ongoing plans for world domination—since Fae always had plans for world domination. (It was more dramatic that way, after all.)

Kai's fingers bit into her shoulder hard enough to make her refocus. 'If you pass out on me now, I'm going to kill you,' he said conversationally.

What were the requirements for using the Language? That the Librarian using it should be able to name and describe what they wanted to happen, and that the Librarian should have the strength to compel reality to change itself. And that the universe could hear her words.

So much for a nice quiet evening with a good book.

Passageways between the Wings are always a little strange. I went through one once that you had to crawl through." "How did they move books through that?" "They didn't, usually. They routed them round some other way. But it was useful if you were in a hurry." He jerked a thumb at the window. "Have you ever seen anyone out there?

She did find that the books displayed prominently in every chamber had been dusted, but the spines were pristine and uncreased. They had the sad, untouched air of literature paraded for display purposes but never actually used. It was profoundly depressing. Wyndham's

We note that the Library has not had fire alarm drills for the last two hundred years. This is because we found the two default responses unhelpful. These being "running away screaming" or "resigning yourself to death while clutching your favourite books." Librarians with more useful suggestions should contact Yves via email and attach a full benefit-threat analysis.

I will have some tea fetched. That is your society does drink tea? Always, Irene said.

She'd always wondered, or even daydreamed, what it was like to actually work with great detectives, rather than just read about them. It was more annoying than she'd expected.)

The word, Irene, is stealing." "Oh, semantics. 'I acquire, 'you borrow,' 'she steals,' 'they invade and loot . . .

It goes a bit like this," Irene said, as they walked towards the stairs. "The first step is, I'll kill myself before I let him do that to me again. The second step is to say, Wait, it'd be much more practical to kill him rather than kill myself. And there you have it. A sensible plan based on logical choices.

Shit,' he said succinctly.

Irene sighed. "So we have an incredibly glamorous female cat burglar who slinks around in a black leather cat-suit, who kills vampires in her spare time?