Showing posts with label shoots. Show all posts
Showing posts with label shoots. Show all posts

Wednesday, 2 December 2009

Drive a woman to fury



…he and Victoria weren’t getting on too well just then; she had just discovered (and confided to Elspeth) that she was in foal for the ninth time, and she took her temper out on dear Albert – the trouble was, he was so bloody patient with her, which can drive a woman to fury faster than anything I know. And he was always right, which was worse. So they weren’t dealing at all well, and he spent most of the daylight hours tramping up Glen bollocks, or whatever they call it, roaring ‘Ze gunn!’ and butchering every animal in view.



Flashman in the Great Game, p.23, Pan edition, 4th printing, 1979.




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Monday, 29 June 2009

A bit rough (even for someone like Mark Steyn)



The camp ground was littered with spent shot and rubbish and broken gear among the pools of congealed blood – my stars, wouldn’t I just like to take one of our Ministers, or street-corner orators, or blood-lusting, breakfast-scoffing papas, over such a place as the Alma Hills – not to let him see, because he’d just tut-tut and look anguished and have a good pray and not care a damn – but to shoot him in the belly with a soft-nosed bullet and let him die screaming where he belonged. That’s all they deserve.



Flashman at the Charge, p.72, Pan edition, 5th printing, 1979.




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Friday, 16 May 2008

Good men

'Could we not hold Kabul?' I asked. 'Surely with a force of five thousand it should be possible against undisciplined savages.'


'These savages are good men,' says he [Broadfoot]. 'Better shots than we are, for one thing.'



Flashman, p.87, Pan edition, 12th printing, 1979.



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