Showing posts with label morality. Show all posts
Showing posts with label morality. Show all posts

Friday, 25 January 2013

Dam’ few crowned heads



      And their Christianity don't run to morality, not far at least. They lie and deceive with a will, drink to excess, slaughter each other for amusement, and the women couple like stoats. The corollary to their adage that ‘a virtuous woman is a crown to husband’ is that there are dam’ few crowned heads in Abyssinia, and hear, hear! say I, for ’twould be a cruel shame to have all that splendid married pulchritude going to waste.



Flashman on the March, p.22, Harper Collins, paperback edition 2005.


(With thanks to Dundrillon for suggesting this quote.)


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Friday, 9 November 2012

Wink, wink



. . . in Ab society, which as I’ve told you is probably the most immoral on earth (Cheltenham ain’t in it), rogering the hostess is almost obligatory,  part of the etiquette, like leaving cards, and not at all out of the way in a country where it’s considered a mortal insult to praise a woman’s chastity, since it implies that she’s not attractive enough to be galloped. Say no more.


Flashman on the March, p.169, Harper Collins, paperback edition 2005.


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Thursday, 4 August 2011

Distance always lends enlightenment



…if enough of the brutes had escaped the whole beastly business would have been to do again, with consequent loss of British and Sepoy lives. That’s something the moralists overlook (or more likely don’t give a dam about) when they cry: “Pity the beaten foe!” What they’re saying, in effect, is: “Kill our fellows tomorrow rather than the enemy today.” But they don’t care to have it put to them like that; they want their wars won clean and comfortable, with a clear conscience. (Their conscience being much more precious than their soldiers’ lives, you understand.) Well, that’s fine, if you’re sitting in the Liberal Club with a bellyful of port on top of your dinner, but if you rang the bell and it was answered not by a steward with a napkin but an Akali with a tulwar, you might change your mind. Distance always lends enlightenment to the view, I’ve noticed.


Flashman and the Mountain of Light, pp.344-5, Fontana Paperback edition, 1991.




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Friday, 21 January 2011

I don't preach



      Don’t mistake me; I don’t preach. You know my morals and ideals, and you won’t find the Archbishop shopping for ’em in a hurry. But I know right from wrong, as perhaps only a scoundrel can . . .



Flashman and the Dragon, p.124, Fontana Paperback edition, 1986.



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Thursday, 16 December 2010

Paternal assistance (Flashy style)



“…I’ll help in any way a father can—I mean, I know what strings to pull, and corners to cut, and palms to grease—and backs to stab—”


Flashman and the Redskins, p.346, Pan Books edition, 1983.




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Wednesday, 10 November 2010

As always



And, as always, I thought what the devil, if I’m wrong, and have been misjudging her all these years, and she’s as chaste as morning dew—so much the better. If she’s not—and I’ll be bound she’s not—what’s an Indian more or less?


Flashman and the Redskins, p.249, Pan Books edition, 1983.




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Thursday, 23 September 2010

A different mystery on the bestial floor



This twisted morality is almost impossible for white folk to understand; they look for excuses, and say the poor savage don’t know right from wrong. Jack Cremony had the best answer to that: if you think an Apache can’t tell right from wrong—wrong him and see what happens.


Flashman and the Redskins, p.169, Pan Books edition, 1983.




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