Showing posts with label bastard. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bastard. Show all posts

Tuesday, 11 December 2012

He just killed them



That was the folly of it; no sense, no logic, no reason, and the lousy bastard didn’t enjoy it or care. He just killed them, and I watched and marvelled, and found myself hoping that Arnold was right, and there was a Hell for him.


Flashman on the March, p.231, Harper Collins, paperback edition 2005.


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Monday, 5 September 2011

Your glorious pedestal



“Aye,” says he sourly, looking me up and down, “I wish I’d a guinea for every poor bastard whose bones must have gone into making your glorious pedestal. Gaudetque viam fecisse ruina,* I’ll lay!”



*He rejoices to have made his way by ruin – Lucan.



Flashman and the Angel of the Lord, p.41, Harper Collins, 1995.


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Tuesday, 20 April 2010

Suffering ignobly borne



…what I was thinking was, by God, you don’t deserve it [the Victoria
Cross
]
, you know, you shifty old bastard of a Flashy – not if it’s courage they’re after… but if they hand out medals for luck, and survival through sheer funk, and suffering ignobly borne… well grab ’em with both hands, my boy…



Flashman in the Great Game, p.331, Pan edition, 4th printing, 1979.

Friday, 19 March 2010

The death of Scud East



     East gave a little ghost of a smile, and his hand tightened and then went loose in mine – and I found I was blubbering and gasping, and thinking about Rugby, and hot murphies at Sally’s shop, and a small fag limping along pathetically after the players at Big Side – because he couldn’t play himself, you see, being lame. I’d hated the little bastard, too, man and boy, for his smug manly piety – but you don’t see a child you’ve known all your life die every day. Maybe that was why I wept, maybe it was the shock and horror of what had being happening. I don’t know. Whatever it was, I’m sure I felt it all the more sincerely for knowing that I was still alive myself, and no bones broken so far.



Flashman in the Great Game, p.233, Pan edition, 4th printing, 1979.

Monday, 24 August 2009

A comforting thought



…the advantage to being a wicked bastard is that everyone pesters the Lord on your behalf; if volume of prayers from my saintly enemies means anything, I’ll be saved when the Archbishop of Canterbury is damned. It’s a comforting thought.



Flashman at the Charge, p.150, Pan edition, 5th printing, 1979.




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Monday, 10 August 2009

One word



He was the kind who knew exactly what was what, where everything was, and precisely who was who – especially himself. He was probably a devil with women, admired by his superiors, hated by his rivals, and abjectly feared by his subordinates. One word summed him up: bastard.



Flashman at the Charge, p.10, Pan edition, 5th printing, 1979.




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Thursday, 23 July 2009

Duty and desperate notions



‘Silence, Ryan! says I. ‘I won’t hear of it.’ [an escape attempt] This was one of these dangerous bastards, I could see, full of duty and desperate notions.



Flashman at the Charge, p.121, Pan edition, 5th printing, 1979.




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Tuesday, 6 January 2009

A leader you can trust



   ‘Turn back, sir! We can’t leave Kirk behind!’
   ‘Can’t we by God?’ growls Spring. ‘You just watch me, mister. If the bastard can’t run, that’s his look-out!’
    Spoken like a man, captain, thinks I; give me a leader you can trust any day. and even Comber, his face contorted with pain , could see it was no go; they were swarming on the bank, and had Kirk spreadeagled; we could see them wrenching his clothes off, squealing with laughter, while close by a couple of them hade even started kindling a fire. They were smart housewifely lasses those, all right.



Flash For Freedom!, p.84, Pan edition, 8th printing, 1980.




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Saturday, 30 August 2008

Truly be called

I’ve sometimes wondered what the result of that encounter was, and if there is some sturdy peasant somewhere in Holstein called Carl who puts on airs in the belief that he can claim royal descent, If there is, he can truly be called an ignorant bastard.



Royal Flash, p.145, Pan edition, 8th printing, 1978.




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