Showing posts with label scoundrel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label scoundrel. Show all posts

Tuesday, 1 November 2011

Comb my memoirs



A scoundrel I may be, but I ain’t an assassin, and you will comb my memoirs in vain for mention of Flashy as First Murderer. Oh, I’ve put away more than I can count, in the line of duty, from stark necessity, and once or twice from spite — de Gautet springs to mind, and the pandy I shot at Meerut — but they deserved it. Anyway, I don’t kill chaps I don’t know.


Flashman and the Angel of the Lord, p.194, Harper Collins, 1995.

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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, 6 May 2010

Victorian conscience



…Victorian conscience is beyond me, thank G-d. I know if anyone who’d done me a bad turn later turned out to be the Archangel Gabriel, I’d still hate the b-----d; but then I’m a scoundrel, you see, with no proper feelings.




Flashman's Lady, p.16, Pan edition, 1979.




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Thursday, 10 December 2009

Bare-faced and grinning




That was Pam - and if anyone ever tells you that he was a politically unprincipled old scoundrel who carried things with a high and reckless hand, I can only say that it didn’t seem to work a whit worse than the policies of more high-minded statesman. The only difference I ever saw between them and Pam was that he did his dirty work bare-faced (when he wasn’t being deeper than damnation) and grinned about it.



Flashman in the Great Game, pp.27-8, Pan edition, 4th printing, 1979.




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Tuesday, 15 September 2009

Genial mountain scoundrels



A tough customer, by the looks of him; one of those genial mountain scoundrels who’ll tell you merry stories while he stabs you in the guts just for the fun of hearing his knife-hilt bells jingle.



Flashman at the Charge, p.222, Pan edition, 5th printing, 1979.




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Wednesday, 4 February 2009

Infinitely greater



…I liked Abe Lincoln from the moment I first noticed him, leaning back in his chair with that hidden smile at the back of his eyes, gently cracking his knuckles. Just why I liked him I can’t say; I suppose in his own way he had the makings of as big a scoundrel as I am myself, but his appetites were different, and his talents infinitely greater. I can’t think of him as a good man, yet as history measures these things I suppose he did great good. Not that that excites my admiration unduly…



Flash For Freedom!, pp.126-27, Pan edition, 8th printing, 1980.




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Friday, 17 October 2008

Naturally talented



I’m a dirty scoundrel, but it has come to me naturally; Rudi made a profession out of it.



Royal Flash, p.220, Pan edition, 8th printing, 1978.




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Thursday, 16 October 2008

See him still



I can see him still, arms akimbo, flashing eyes, curly head, brilliant smile, and ready to set fire to an orphan asylum to light his cheroot.



Royal Flash, p.220, Pan edition, 8th printing, 1978.




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Monday, 9 June 2008

A coward and a scoundrel



Some of you will hold up your hands in horror that a Queen’s officer could behave like this, and before his soldiers, too. To which I would reply that I do not claim, as I’ve said already, to be anything but a coward and a scoundrel, and I’ve never play-acted when it seems pointless.


Flashman, p.230, Pan edition, 12th printing, 1979.



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