Quotes from Scott Lynch

W]hen you find yourself face to face with one [Bondsmage], you bow and scrape and mind your 'sirs' and 'madams.'" ... 'Nice bird, asshole,' said Locke.

I suspect this is all gonna end in screaming and drowning

I don't need to be reminded that we're up to our heads in dark water. I just want you boys to remember that we're the gods-damned sharks.

I'll wager I would have screwed things up regardless. But. . .can you imagine those poor bastards grappling their prey, leaping over the rails, swords in hand, screaming, 'Your cats! Give us all your gods-damned cats!

Only one way to win when you're being chased by someone bigger and tougher than you. Turn straight around, punch their teeth out, and hope the gods are fond of you.

If he had a bloody gash across his throat and a physiker was trying to sew it up, Lamora would steal the needle and thread and die laughing.

Yeah, but if I don't start my nervous pacing now, I'll never have it all done in time.

Are you smarter than a pig, Locke?" "On occasion," said Locke. "There are contrary opinions.

I'm not gong to kill you," said Locke I'm going to play a little game I like to call 'Scream in pain until you answer my fucking questions.

Crooked Warden, I will fear no darkness for the night is yours," muttered Locke, pointing the first two fingers of his left hand into the darkness. The Dagger of the Thirteenth, a thief's gesture against evil. "Your night is my cloak, my shield, my escape from those who hunt to feed the noose. I will fear no evil, for you have made the night my friend." "Bless the Benefactor," said Jean, squeezing Locke's left forearm. "Peace and profit to his children.

Maxilan, darling." Locke raised one eyebrow and smiled. "I knew you were driven, but I had no idea you could smoulder. Come, take me now! Jean won't mind; he'll avert his eyes like a gentleman.

But you didn't die." "Clever lad, to deduce that from such slender evidence after living with me for just three years.

I hope a shark tries to suck your cock!

Congratulations! We're reverse burglars, here to give you fifty gold solari!

We may need to ready ourselves to repel boarders." "With what? One stiletto and hurtful insinuations about their mothers?

Fuck damn ," said Conté, totally unable to help himself when the sums involved vanished over his mental horizon. "Beg pardon, Doña Sofia." "You should." She drained her snifter in one quick unladylike gulp. "Your calculations are off. This merits a triple fuckdamn at least .

That's how luck works, lad. You can bitch all you like about how things could have been more favorable for you, but rest assured things can always be worse. Always.

You'll pardon me," he finally said, "if the suggestion that the minuscule black turnip you call a heart is suddenly overflowing with generosity toward me leaves me wanting to arm myself and put my back against a wall.

I'm not as reckless as I used to be. You know, when I was little.

You want a lesson, boy? If you find yourself being born, climb back in as quick as you can, because life's a bottomless feast of shit.

As for history, we are living in its ruins. And as for biographies, we are living with the consequences of all the decisions ever made in them. I tend not to read them for pleasure. It's not unlike carefully scrutinizing the map when one has already reached the destination.

I'm fit and I'm angry, and I'm obviously crazy. Anything could happen.

It must be nice to be righteous; from where I stand it looks like fucking lunacy.

I trust my points are noted... Very noted... Received, recognized, and duly considered with the utmost gravity. Sealed, notarized, and firmly imprinted upon my rational essence.