Quotes from Scott Lynch

To live the life the gods have given you, you must clutch wisely, then run. Run like the houds of hell on a sinner's scent!

I was badly misinformed, I deeply regret the error, go fuck yourself with this bag of money.

I don't have to fight or run," [Locke] cackled. "I changed the rules of the game. I just have to keep you here...asshole. Here...until...Jean gets back.

It's easy to prescribe remedies for our own weaknesses when they're comfortably ensconced in other people.

it was always impossible to put a price on making your enemy shit their breeches.

Damn it, when will you learn that refusing to admit you've lost isn't the same as winning?" "Sort of depends on how long one keeps refusing, doesn't it?

I heartedly approve, in theory," said Ibelius, "but in practice I believe I shall... absent myself.

I want to be a barking public embarrassment as soon as possible.

Are you smarter than my chicken?" cried a weathered, wild-haired woman holding a nonplussed bird over her head. At her feet was a wooden board covered with numbers and arcane symbols. "Lay your bets! Test your wits against a trained fowl! One coppin a try! Are you smarter than my chicken? You might be in for a surprise!

We go now," said Locke, "or I leave you here to die. Understanding is a luxury; you don't get to have it. Sorry.

I am utterly emboldened in my cowardice.

Endure for another day, Mister Tannen, and you'll have all the foul black misuse of water you can drink.

Our patron has always sort of danced upon the notion that austerity and piety go hand in hand; down here, we show our appreciation for things by appreciating, if you get me.

What do you think of the old boy?" said Jean. "He's got a strangely sunny view of ten years of defeat," said Locke, "but if I get killed in the next six weeks, I want him to speak at my funeral.

Butterflies instantly came to life in his stomach, and the little bastards were heavily armed.

For Calo, Galdo, and Bug

Manners that would keep you starving are no manners worth respecting.

Can't fear the fire if you don't scald your fingertips.

Heavens," said Galdo in a deep, dramatic voice, "only one man living could have squeezed forth such a gleaming brown jewel—this is the work of Squatting Calo, the Midnight Shitter!

We carry your precious misery with us like a holy fucking relic.

Blessed is the one who aids a thief, hides a thief, revenges a thief, and remembers a thief, for they shall inherit the night.

After all, poison is only contagious at dinner parties.

Don Lorenzo and 'Master Eccari' fenced pleasantries for a few moments thereafter; Galdo eventually let himself be skewered with the politest possible version of 'Thanks, but piss off.

But what the fuck ... ever gave you the idea that Locke was the first name I was actually born with?