Showing posts with label heroes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label heroes. Show all posts

Friday, 7 September 2012

An expert to boot



      You see, we poltroons have a talent for spotting heroes — we have to, in order to steer well clear of them — and from what I learned from Henty, who sat by me at tiffin, Speedy was a prime specimen, and an expert to boot.


Flashman on the March, p.35, Harper Collins, paperback edition 2005.


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Tuesday, 3 July 2012

I can’t abide leeks



As an unworthy holder of that Cross myself, I’ll say they earned them, and as much glory as you like, for there never was a stand like it in all the history of war. For they didn’t only stand against impossible odds, you see — they stood and won, the garrulous little buggers, and not just ’cos they had Martinis against spears and clubs and a few muskets; they beat ’em hand to hand too, steel against steel at the barricades, and John Zulu gave them best. Well, you know what I think of heroism, and I can’t abide leeks, but I wear a daffodil as my buttonhole on Davey’s Day, for Rorke’s Drift.


Flashman and the Tiger, p.288, Harper Collins, paperback edition 2000.


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Tuesday, 21 October 2008

A difficult situation



Of course, it was a difficult situation for them; heroes are so much less of a nuisance when they’re dead.



Royal Flash, p.237, Pan edition, 8th printing, 1978.




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Saturday, 28 June 2008

Half panic, half lunacy

This myth called bravery, which is half panic, half lunacy (in my case, all panic), pays for all; in England you can’t be a hero and bad. There’s practically a law against it.



Flashman, p.276, Pan edition, 12th printing, 1979.




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Tuesday, 13 May 2008

The field of honour

'…don’t wait to die on the field of honour.’ He said it without a sneer. ‘Heroes draw no higher wages than the others, boy. Sleep well.’



Flashman, p.83, Pan edition, 12th printing, 1979.



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