Showing posts with label decent. Show all posts
Showing posts with label decent. Show all posts

Wednesday, 13 March 2013

No electorate likes that



He was a decent fellow — far too decent for politics. He wouldn’t have lasted, you know, after the war. Men like him never do; people decide they’re too clever, and besides, they feel obliged to ’em, and no electorate likes that. No, you’d have got rid of him, if Booth hadn’t.


Mr American, p.392, Pan Books, paperback edition 1982.



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Thursday, 19 April 2012

A pint and a pie



. . . it wasn't a sufeit of debauchery and the high life, although there does come a time when you find yourself longing for a pint and a pie and a decent night’s sleep. And it was partly that I was beginning to miss English voices and English rain and all those things that make the old country so different, thank God, from the Continent.


Flashman and the Tiger, p.191, Harper Collins, paperback edition 2000.


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Monday, 24 May 2010

Decent and disinterested folk



I wondered for a moment if I had wronged him – for I know I tend to judge everyone by myself, and while I’m usually not far wrong to do so, there are decent and disinterested folk about, here and there. I’ve seen some.



Flashman's Lady, p.57, Pan edition, 1979.




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Tuesday, 27 January 2009

Just the man



He was one of these direct, virtuous souls, bursting with decency, whose very thought was written plainly on his fresh, handsome face. Arnold would have loved him – and young Chard could have used a few of him at Rorke’s Drift, too. Brainless as a bat, of course, and just the man for my present needs.



Flash For Freedom!, p.119, Pan edition, 8th printing, 1980.




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