Perversely partial

. . . but she was a hearty piece of middle-aged Eve’s flesh of no remarkable allure — that she appealed to me was by the way; I’m a connoisseur of feminine beauty but no discrimination worth a dam, and anyway I’m perversely partial to royal rattle.


Flashman on the March, p.168, Harper Collins, paperback edition 2005.


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Stinging at the memory

It reminded me of the Madagascar forest, and you mayn’t believe it but I felt my eyes stinging at the memory of Elspeth blue-eyed and beautiful, smiling up at me with her golden hair tumbled about her head on the grass, her arms reaching up to me and those lovely lips parting . . . “My jo, my ain dear jo!”


Flashman on the March, p.135, Harper Collins, paperback edition 2005.


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Worn uncommon well

      By the time of Tranby, to be sure, Elspeth was of an age where it should have been unlikely that either Bertie or Cumming would try to drag her behind the sofa, but I still didn't care to think of her within the fat-fingered reach of one or the trim moustache of t’other. She’d worn uncommon well; middle sixties and still shaped like a Turkish belly-dancer, with the same guileless idiot smile and wondrous blue eyes that had set me slavering when she was sixteen — she'd performed like a demented houri then and who was to say she’d lost the taste in half a century?

Flashman and the Tiger, p.224, Harper Collins, paperback edition 2000.


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The women of New York

I refer to the women of New York, who for beauty of face and form, elegance of dress, and general style and deportment, are quite the finest I’ve struck — until they open their mouths, that is, which they do most of the time, but even that incessant nasal braying can’t rob them of their exquisite charm.

Flashman and the Angel of the Lord, p.151, Harper Collins, 1995.


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The Australian Ideal

      She fulfilled, you see, four of the five conditions necessary for what may be called the Australian Ideal — she was an immensely rich, stunningly beautiful, highly-skilled professional amorist with the sexual appetite of a pagan princess; she did not own a public house.

Flashman and the Dragon, p.231, Fontana Paperback edition, 1986.



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Dressed so tight

…fashionable women in the 70s dressed so tight they could barely sit down, and hers was a perfect hourglass shape—a waist I could gladly have spanned with my two hands, but for her upper and lower works you’d have needed the help of the lifeboat crew.

Flashman and the Redskins, p.261, Pan Books edition, 1983.

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Stone idol

…and she was beautiful… with a figurehead like St Cecilia and a body that would have brought a stone idol howling off its pedestal.

Flashman and the Redskins, pp.78-79, Pan Books edition, 1983.

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As her portrait suggests

He looked at the miniature like a contemplative frog. ‘Tell me – is she as. . . as. . . well – ah – as her portrait suggests?’
     ‘She’s a stunner, if that’s what you mean,’ says I, for like every other grown male in London I, too, had admired little Angie, although not entirely for her enlightened opinions – more for the fact that she had a superb complexion, tits like footballs, and two million in the bank, really.

Flashman's Lady, pp.132-33, Pan edition, 1979.

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I couldn't see

What a playing-field beauty like this was doing on a merchantman I couldn’t see, but I held my tongue and watched him.

Flash For Freedom!, p.49, Pan edition, 8th printing, 1980.

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Flashman, Flashman quotes.