Quotes About Philippa

Although some people think I am a romantic novelist I have always thought of myself as a rather gritty radical historian.

It won't be long,' said Philippa cheerfully, her mother's ring in her voice. 'You know what Bess says. There's nothing in this world a drop of aqua-vitæ in a sheep's bladder won't cure. Stop the Somervilles with a knife! It needs artillery.' And she blew her nose hard.

O England,' said Kiaya Khátún. Her voice, mellow and strong, held an accent or a mingling of accents Philippa was unable to name. 'O England, the Hell of Horses, the Purgatory of Servants and the Paradise of Women.' She turned her splendid eyes on the soothsayer. 'She will be like Avicenna, and run through all the arts by eighteen.

And, echoing Jerott, 'So why in hell have you come?' Philippa's gaze, bright and owlish and obstinate, held his to the end. 'To look after the baby,' she answered. And disconcertingly, after a second's blank pause, Francis Crawford flung back his damp head and laughed.

Standing safely on the opposite bank with her dry maid, her dry escort, and a company of streaming horsemen, Philippa said scathingly, 'That's men for you. Cover the lady's retreat, the book says. A hundred years ago, maybe. And what stopped you from coming with me just now? I can swim, you know.

So Philippa got her leave to bring Archie Abernethy with her and sail on the Dauphiné. But they had not seen the woman Marthe before they left Lyons. And permission to sail from Marseilles depended still, Philippa was grimly aware, on whether or not the woman Marthe was found to be eligible. Kiaya Khátún, she imagined, would pass like a shot.

What to do when attacked at sea, lessons one to ten. They had spent their first morning at sea being trained, remorselessly, by Francis Crawford for this precise event. 'I know what to do,' said Philippa. 'Offer them the raspberry wine and keep them talking till Mother comes in.

My dear man,' Philippa said. 'It seems to me that you have no spirit left but the spirit of resentment.

Who in God's name do these rubies belong to?' 'You. But you wouldn't suit them,' said Philippa. 'Ffarewell Carboncle chosen chief. It's my husband-hunting equipment. What about you?' 'I don't hunt husbands,' said Lymond, getting up. 'It's the other way about.

Philippa Somerville, standing back a little, did not withdraw her arm. In her white face, a shadow of motherly irritation appeared. 'Has no one here any sense? Be quiet and sit down. The world will look after itself for a night, without your hand on the rim.

Although some people think I am a romantic novelist I have always thought of myself as a rather gritty radical historian.

I am in the interesting position of being sometimes skimmed by the critics and called literature and sometimes called historical fiction.

There scotsmen must have arses like leather,for while he ate I could see naught beneath his kilts but a pair of rather large balls , the secretary told him . - philippa

I like to do the research of history and the creativity of writing fiction. I am creating this thing which I think is twice as difficult as writing either history or fiction.

This child could not command a pet dove. Harsh but true, lol!

The king is a saint and cannot rule, and his son is a devil and should not.

It is for your daughter," she said. "For Jane. To sit on. She seems not to have a seat of her own but she must borrow mine." There

pillion saddle on Archibald's horse and a man-at-arms lifts

was in correspondence with their religious