Showing posts with label hell. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hell. Show all posts

Tuesday, 11 December 2012

He just killed them



That was the folly of it; no sense, no logic, no reason, and the lousy bastard didn’t enjoy it or care. He just killed them, and I watched and marvelled, and found myself hoping that Arnold was right, and there was a Hell for him.


Flashman on the March, p.231, 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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Friday, 3 August 2012

As it is today



Hell of a place, Mexico, and dam’ confused.


Flashman on the March, p.4, Harper Collins, paperback edition 2005.


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Monday, 2 July 2012

Mealie-bag ramparts



      That, briefly, is how I came to join the garrison at Rorke’s Drift — and all the world knows what happened there. A hundred Warwickshire Welshmen and a handful of invalids stopped four thousand Udloko and Tulwana Zulus in bloody shambles at the mealie-bag ramparts, hammer and tongs and no quarter through that ghastly night with the burning hospital turning the wreckage of the little outpost into a fair semblance of Hell, and Flashy seeking in vain for a quiet corner — which I thought I’d found, once, on the thatch of the commissariat store, and damned if they didn’t set fire to that, too. Eleven Victoria Crosses they won, Chard with his beard scorched, Bromhead stone-deaf, and those ragged Taffies half-dead on their feet, but not too done to fight — oh, and talk.


Flashman and the Tiger, pp.287-8, Harper Collins, paperback edition 2000.

 
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Monday, 11 June 2012

my quizziest Flashy smile



I gave her a squeeze and a kiss and my quizziest Flashy smile. “We’ve never had any secrets from each other, have we?” I’ll fry in hell, no doubt about it.


Flashman and the Tiger, p.261, Harper Collins, paperback edition 2000.


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Tuesday, 27 March 2012

His abominable son



      What was the phrase young Hawkins used in his book? “Surely, while you're above ground, Hell wants its master!” Spoken of the fictitious image of Rudi von Starnberg, but by God it fitted his abominable son even better...


Flashman and the Tiger, p.143, Harper Collins, paperback edition 2000.


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Tuesday, 24 January 2012

Beats a flat white



…coffee Arabi style — black as night, sweet as love, hot as hell…


Flashman and the Tiger, p.33, Harper Collins, paperback edition 2000.


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Thursday, 5 January 2012

Damnable places



…they paved my road to hell — which lay at the bottom of a salt mine… Damnable places, and not at all what you might imagine. Not a grain of salt to be seen, for one thing.


Flashman and the Tiger, p.13, Harper Collins, paperback edition 2000.


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Wednesday, 20 April 2011

How hot?



…it was hotter than hell’s pavement…


Flashman and the Mountain of Light, p.52, Fontana Paperback edition, 1991.


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Monday, 1 November 2010

One of the hazards of Washington



Any gang of politicos is like the eighth circle of Hell, but the American breed is specially awful because they take it seriously and believe it matters; wherever you went, to dinner or an excursion or to pay a call, or even take a stroll, you were deafened with their infernal prosing—I daren’t go to the privy without making sure some seedy heeler wasn’t lying in wait to get me to join a caucus.



Flashman and the Redskins, p.229, Pan Books edition, 1983.

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Monday, 12 January 2009

A look at hell




My stomach doesn’t turn easy, but I was sickened. If it had been left to me, there and then, I’d have let ‘em go, the whole boiling lot of them, back to their lousy jungle… when you’ve looked into the hold of a new-laden slaver for the first time, you know what hell is like.



Flash For Freedom!, p.90, Pan edition, 8th printing, 1980.




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Saturday, 11 October 2008

How dark?



It was as black as the earl of hell’s weskit



Royal Flash, p.207, Pan edition, 8th printing, 1978.




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Tuesday, 3 June 2008

A gateway into hell


As we neared Khoor-Kabul the hills rose up on either side, and the mouth of that awful pass looked like a gateway into hell. Its walls were so stupendous that the rocky bottoms was in perpetual twilight; the dragging tread of the army, the bellowing of the beasts, the shouts and groans and the boom of shots echoed and rang from its cliffs. The Afghans were on the ledges and when Anquetil saw them he halted the vanguard, because it seemed certain death to go on.



Flashman, p.193, Pan edition, 12th printing, 1979.




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