Quotes About Quote

And things to wrap around the bottom of an infant. Not dishtowels." "Pampers?" asked the grocer. "I am an old-fashioned gentleman." "Diapers, then?" suggested the grocer. "Or, if you are truly old-fashioned, they would be called nappies." "Yes, those.

The newchild stirred slightly in his sleep. Jonas looked over at him. "There could be love," Jonas whispered.

the long neck that extended from his stiff collar.

Jonas was shocked. A name designated Not-to-Be-Spoken indicated the highest degree of disgrace.

Miles exhaled carefully, faint with rage and reminded grief. He does not know, he told himself. He cannot know... Ivan, one of these days somebody is going to pull out a weapon and plug you, and you're going to die in bewilderment, crying, What did I say? What did I say? What did I say? asked Ivan indignantly.

One corner of his mouth crooked up, then the quirk vanished in a thoughtful pursing of his lips. He's bisexual, you know. He took a delicate sip of his wine. Was bisexual, she corrected absently, looking fondly across the room. Now he's monogamous. Vordarian choked, sputtering.

I wonder if we should add a box to tick off -- Reason for travel: creepy planetary conquest ... no, I suppose not.

Actually, the full bell curve goes: brilliant; pretty good; mediocre; mediocre and interminable; dire; vile; dire and vile; and dire, vile, and interminable.

What's in the box? Not a severed head—again—I trust?" It seemed too small for that, fortunately. Cordelia's gray eyes glinted. "Now, now, Oliver. Bring home one dismembered body part, once, mind you, once, and people get twitchy about checking your luggage ever after.

Very good. But your most insidious chronic problem is in the area of . . . how shall I put this precisely . . . subordination. You argue too much." "No, I don't," Miles began indignantly, then shut his mouth.

he was beginning to wonder if he was trying to rescue the dragon.

But your most insidious chronic problem is in the area of . . . how shall I put this precisely . . . subordination. You argue too much." "No, I don't," Miles began indignantly, then shut his mouth.

Mark's ideas tended to the bland, and there was no point in asking Miles, whose embittered suggestions all ran to things like Vomit Vanilla and Cockroach Crunch.

The page answered disgustedly, "A madman, I suppose." After a short pause, the maid's voice floated back faintly, "Well, he'll fit right in here, then, won't he…

One corner of his mouth crooked up, then the quirk vanished in a thoughtful pursing of his lips. "He's bisexual, you know." He took a delicate sip of his wine. "Yes," she agreed absently, looking fondly across the room. "Now he's monogamous." Vordarian choked, sputtering.

No me sorprendería. El hermano de milord, Mark, dice que la integridad es una enfermedad, y tan sólo puede contagiártela alguien que la padece.

Send a patroller to check," said Miles a little tightly. Remembering he was supposed to be a diplomat, he added, "If you please." Teris

Cordelia faced one more climb onto that torture-device for humans and horses called a saddle.

They were taking Elli away. "Don't worry, Miles, I've been arrested before," she tried to reassure him. "It's no big deal.

The hangover is a fair trade for being so immobilized one cannot do anything stupid for a little while.

Jacksonians claimed their corruption was entirely imported—if the galaxy were willing to pay for virtue what it paid for vice, the place would be a pilgrimage shrine.

Never make key tactical decisions while having electro-convulsive seizures.

Miles nodded agreement in principle, even though he was inclined to include Ivan himself in the category of my God the company.

Cordelia shivered, and Oliver glanced at her in concern. "Cold, Cordelia? You shouldn't be standing around wet.