Showing posts with label political service. Show all posts
Showing posts with label political service. Show all posts

Thursday, 15 November 2012

The Flashman line



“But I should not account this one a fool, as you do. Did you not hear him answer Damash, saying much, but telling nothing?” He leaned towards me, nursing his spear, his eyes intent on mine. “Perhaps Damash is right and he is the kind of man the Dedjaz Napier would have sent to Masteet — a man of a long head, skilled in dissimulation and never aiming where he looks.” He smiled. “You are that man, are you not, Ras Flashman?”


Flashman on the March, p.188, Harper Collins, paperback edition 2005.


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Tuesday, 13 November 2012

As I said



As I said to Speedicut, it’s hell in the diplomatic.



Flashman on the March, p.175, Harper Collins, paperback edition 2005.


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Thursday, 26 January 2012

Jezebel with a sassy twinkle



I liked her style: no humbug, just Jezebel with a sassy twinkle and a fifth-form fringe, lightly touched by the crazy gods — as many politicals are; Georgie Broadfoot was daft as a brush.


Flashman and the Tiger, p.34, Harper Collins, paperback edition 2000.


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Thursday, 11 August 2011

Cheers Paddy



“Never trust a political,” says he. “Health Flashman.”




Flashman and the Mountain of Light, p.358, Fontana Paperback edition, 1991.



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Friday, 15 July 2011

Password



Harlan brought this, for you, from Colonel Gardner in Lahore. Says it will establish his bona fides. The seal hasn’t been touched.”
      Wondering what the dooce this was about I broke the seal — and had a sudden premonition of what I would read. Sure enough, there it was, one word: Wisconsin.



Flashman and the Mountain of Light, p.280, Fontana Paperback edition, 1991.



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Monday, 6 June 2011

Truth from falsehood



The trouble with the political service, you know, is that they can’t tell truth from falsehood. Even members of Parliament know when they’re lying, which is most of the time, but folk like Broadfoot simply ain’t aware of their own prevarications. It’s all for the good of the service, you see, so it must be true — and that makes it uncommon hard for straightforward rascals like me when we’re being done browner than an ape’s behind.


Flashman and the Mountain of Light, p.166, Fontana Paperback edition, 1991.


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Thursday, 14 April 2011

Political work



As a rule, I’d run a mile from political work — skulking about in nigger* clobber, living on millet and sheep guts, lousy as the tinker’s dog, scared stiff you’ll start whistling “Waltzing Matilda” in a mosque, and finishing with your head on a pole like Burnes and McNaghten.


*NB. Flashman's use of ugly racial epitaphs is a continuing problem for more enlightened, contemporary readers. The inclusion of these passages should not be mistaken for tacit support of his misanthropic, 19th century view of race relations.  



Flashman and the Mountain of Light, p.38, Fontana Paperback edition, 1991.


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Tuesday, 15 December 2009

Screaming for England



I’d been a political myself, and it’s part of the job to scream at your own shadow…



Flashman in the Great Game, p.31, Pan edition, 4th printing, 1979.




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Friday, 30 May 2008

A chancy business

…a crowd was milling round the spot where McNaghten had fallen; even as I watched they began to yell and dance, and I saw a spear upthrust with something grey stuck on the end of it. Just for an instant I thought: ‘Well Burnes will get the job now,’ and then I remembered Burnes was dead. Say what you like, the political service is a chancy business.



Flashman, p.162, Pan edition, 12th printing, 1979.




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