Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts

Tuesday, 2 April 2013

And from Nebraska, too



     ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, General’
     ‘My God, you’re dense. And from Nebraska, too. She’s my great-niece, ain’t she? You don’t think she’d do the dirty deed herself if she could get some simpleton to do it for her? Of course, she won’t care to admit it, even to herself, but it’s true, just the same. I know my own kind.’
     ‘I don’t believe that for a moment,’ said Mr Franklin. ‘Why she wanted to share the blame — you heard her — she’d have gone to prison like a shot.’
     ‘Yes, I heard her,’ said Sir Harry. ‘Heard myself, in similar situations — when I reckoned it was safe.’


Mr American, p.437, Pan Books, paperback edition 1982.


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Friday, 27 July 2012

Bred in the bone



      That, of course, was the point. She was my grand-daughter, and what’s bred in the bone . . . oh, but she’d hocussed me properly, playing shrinking Purity, and I’d been ready to shell out half my fortune — and I’d come within an ace of committing murder for her.



Flashman and the Tiger, pp.310-11, Harper Collins, paperback edition 2000.


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Monday, 13 December 2010

Flashy’s boy, no error



Good actor, too—aye, it all fitted, the skill in histrionics and dissimulation, the delight in twisting the victim’s tail, the mockery, the cool damn-you cut of his jib, the callous way he talked of things other youngsters would have been ashamed of. Oh, he was Flashy’s boy, no error—even if I hadn’t sold his mama down the river, there’d have been no touching reunion between father and son. We ain’t cut out for affection, much, our lot.


Flashman and the Redskins, p.338, Pan Books edition, 1983.




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Thursday, 29 May 2008

The wise son

‘The wise son,’ croaked Khan Hamet, opening his mouth for the first time, ‘mistrusts his mother.’ Doubtless he knew his own family best.



Flashman, p.148, Pan edition, 12th printing, 1979.




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