Share
×
Inspirational Quotes
Authors
Professions
Topics
Tags
Quote
Brand a man as a thief and no one will ever hire him for honest labor - he will be a hardened robber within weeks. The brand does not reveal a person's nature, it shapes it.
Frances Hardinge
Share
Change background
T
T
T
Change font
Original
TAGS & TOPICS
Frances Hardinge
Age: 51
Born: 1973
Born: February 6
Author
Writer
Kent
England
Frances Melanie Hardinge
Hon. Frances Melanie Hardinge
Men
Week
Hire
Honest
Thieves
Within
Reveal
Nature
Brand
Doe
Brands
Robber
Persons
Weeks
Robbers
Person
Shapes
Hardened
Ever
Labor
Thief
More quotes by Frances Hardinge
It was hopeless. She was flawless. She was a sunbeam. Mosca gave up and got on with hating her.
Frances Hardinge
It was all very well being told that she could do nothing to make things better. Neverfell did not have the kind of mind that could take that quietly. She did not have the kind of mind that could be quiet at all.
Frances Hardinge
Ordinary life did not stop just because kings rose and fell, Mosca realized. People adapted. If the world turned upside down, everyone ran and hid in their houses, but a very short while later, if all seemed quiet, they came out again and started selling each other potatoes.
Frances Hardinge
You’re a peach full of poison, you know that? Mosca snapped back, but could not quite keep a hint of admiration from her tone.
Frances Hardinge
Where is your sense of patriotism? I keep it hid away safe, along with my sense of trust, Mr. Clent. I don't use 'em much in case they get scratched.
Frances Hardinge
In Mosca’s experience, a ‘long story’ was always a short story someone did not want to tell.
Frances Hardinge
Words were dangerous when loosed. They were more powerful than cannon and more unpredictable than storms. They could turn men’s heads inside out and warp their destinies. They could pick up kingdoms and shake them until they rattled.
Frances Hardinge
True stories seldom have endings. I don't want a happy ending, I want more story.
Frances Hardinge
My dear fellow, he continued more soberly, If you have managed to complicate things by forming a sentimental attachment in less than a week, then I doubt there is anything I can do for you. You, sir, are a romantic, and I suspect your condition is incurable.
Frances Hardinge
Desperation is a millstone. It wears away at the very soul, grinding away pity, kindness, humanity and courage. But sometimes it whets the mind to a sharpened point and creates moments of true brilliance. And standing there, nose tickled by the dusty hide of the stuffed deer head, such a moment visited Mosca Mye.
Frances Hardinge
You, sir, are a romantic, and I'm afraid the condition is incurable. -Eponymous Clent
Frances Hardinge
Push something in someone’s face, and they will shove it away reflexively. Threaten to snatch it away from them, and sometimes they become convinced that it is what they want.
Frances Hardinge
If wits were pins, the man would be a veritable hedgehog.
Frances Hardinge
My good lady,’ interrupted Clent, ‘are you telling me that he is not the Luck? That you have in some way obfuscated the chronology of his nativity?’ Seconds passed. A beetle flew into Mistress Leap’s hair while she stared at Clent, then it struggled free and flew off again. ‘Did you lie about when he was born?’ translated Mosca.
Frances Hardinge
If you want someone to tell you what to think... You will never be short of people willing to do so.
Frances Hardinge
Every time I do what you say I tumble a bit farther down this well of darkness, an' this here is a drop too deep an' too dark for me. I have to stop falling while I can still see a bit of the sky.
Frances Hardinge
We always find it difficult to forgive our heroes for being human.
Frances Hardinge
Sometimes fear made you angry. Perhaps after years anger cooled, like a sword taken from a forge. Perhaps in the end you were left with something very cold and very sharp.
Frances Hardinge
I want my chirfugging goose back!
Frances Hardinge
I'm never telling the truth again! It gets you hanged and locked out and starved and froze and hated . . .
Frances Hardinge