Showing posts with label fart. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fart. Show all posts

Thursday, 22 November 2012

On the fly



He seized a spear from one of the guards on the fly, and began to stab the surrounding carpet, cursing something fearful. Then he flung the spear aside, shook his fists at heaven, and darted into the pavilion . . . and the assembled military and civilian worthies stood silent and thoughtful, determined not to look at each other, like a convocation of clergy when the bishop has farted extempore.


Flashman on the March, p.200, Harper Collins, paperback edition 2005.


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Wednesday, 29 February 2012

The lives of thousands



      “You mean you’re game?” cries he eagerly. “You’re with us?”
      “Suppose you tell me why I should be.”
      “How could you not?” Kralta couldn't believe her ears, like a queen with a farting courtier. “With the peace of Europe in the balance, and the lives of thousands, perhaps millions at stake?”


 Flashman and the Tiger, p.90, Harper Collins, paperback edition 2000.


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Wednesday, 15 February 2012

A besotted Bohemian



Well, I didn't, in fact, but I ain't a besotted Bohemian. He sighed, long and solemn, like an old horse farting.


Flashman and the Tiger, p.56, Harper Collins, paperback edition 2000.


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Friday, 14 October 2011

Expecting the Spanish Inquisition



…the great terror of my infancy was a lurid coloured print entitled “All Hope Abandon”, purporting to show what happened when the Spanish Inquisition got hold of you — which they undoubtedly would, my nurse assured me, if I didn’t eat my crusts, or farted in Church.

Flashman and the Angel of the Lord, p.117, Harper Collins, 1995.



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Thursday, 9 June 2011

Scout first



Coward’s instinct if you like, but if I’m still here and in good health, bar my creaky kidneys and a tendency to wind, it’s because I shy at motes, never mind beams — and I don’t walk straight in where I can scout first.

Flashman and the Mountain of Light, p.172, Fontana Paperback edition, 1991.



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Thursday, 31 March 2011

Curious ceremonial expression



…and the senior men mounted in full fig, wearing that curious ceremonial expression of solemn intensity, as thought they were trying mot to fart.

Flashman and the Dragon, p.286, Fontana Paperback edition, 1986.


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Wednesday, 5 May 2010

No end of a cad



‘Tell the truth,’went on this amazing oaf, ‘when we were youngsters I didn’t care for you above half, Flashman. Well, you treated us fags pretty raw, you know – of course, I guess it was just thoughtlessness, but, well, we thought you no end of a cad, and – and … a coward, too.’ He stirred uncomfortably, and I wondered was he going to fart.




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

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Wednesday, 17 March 2010

Open with care


‘Flashman, you must see my agony of spirit … I’m trying to … make you understand. Please – tell me, even now, what I can do.’
      ‘Well,’ says I, thoughtfully, ‘you could go fart in a bottle and paint it.’




Flashman in the Great Game, pp.210-11, Pan edition, 4th printing, 1979.




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Tuesday, 14 July 2009

The most crashing discharge



I moved, gasping gently to myself, stirring on my saddle, and suddenly, without the slightest volition on my part, there was the most crashing discharge of wind, like the report of a mortar. My horse started; Cardigan jumped in his saddle, glaring at me, and from the ranks of the 17th a voice muttered: ‘Christ, as if Russian artillery wasn’t bad enough!’



Flashman at the Charge, p.106, Pan edition, 5th printing, 1979.




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