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How ghastly for her, people actually thinking, with their brains, and right next door. Oh, the travesty of it all.

Gail Carriger

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Gail Carriger
Age: 48
Born: 1976
Born: May 4
Archaeologist
Novelist
Science Fiction Writer
Writer
Bolinas
California
People
Brains
Door
Doors
Brain
Actually
Next
Right
Travesty
Thinking
Ghastly

More quotes by Gail Carriger

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Alexia had spent long hours wondering over that mustache. Werewolves did not grow hair, as they did not age. Where had it come from? Had he always had it? For how many centuries had his poor abused upper lip labored under the burden of such vegetation?
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You do realise modern social mores exist for a reason? I was hungry, allowances should be made.
Gail Carriger
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Alexia blinked stupidly at the Beta from around the earl’s upper arm. Her heart was doing crazy things, and she still could not locate her kneecaps. She took a deep breath and put some serious attention into tracking them down.
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The duke contents himself mainly with attempting to rule the world and other suchlike nonsense. When one is guiding the patterns of the social universe, a single spinster preternatural is unlikely to cause one undue distress.
Gail Carriger
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She took a moment to lament her lack of parasol. Every time she left the house, she felt keenly the absence of her heretofore ubiquitous accessory.
Gail Carriger
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I do not giggle without purpose. Lady Linette says you should never misapply a giggle.
Gail Carriger
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Lord Maccon reflected upon the state of his life wherein he had somehow gained a spouse who could not give a pig's foot for the latest dresses out of Paris but who whined about not owning an aethographic transmitter. Well, at least the two were comparable obsessions so far as expense was concerned.
Gail Carriger
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It's no good choosing your first husband from a school for evil geniuses. Much too difficult to kill.
Gail Carriger
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His eyes are peculiar. There is nothing in them, like an eclair without the cream filling. It's wrong, lack of cream.
Gail Carriger
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Oh, Professor Lyall, are you making a funny? It doesn’t suit you.” The sandy-haired Beta gave Lady Maccon a dour look. “I am exploring new personality avenues.” “Well, stop it.” “Yes, my lady.
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She was no closer to determining who might want her dead. There were just too many possibilities.
Gail Carriger
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Classic author moment, Oh dear, did I kill that character or not?
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...you have been fraternizing with warewolves overmuch! Military men can be terribly bad for one's verbal concatenation!
Gail Carriger
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His lordship can eat my fat—
Gail Carriger
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Cats were not, in her experience, an animal with much soul. Prosaic, practical little creatures as a general rule. It would suit her very well to be thought catlike.
Gail Carriger
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She reached inside the wide ruffle and pulled out a little vial. “Poison?” asked Lady Maccon, tilting her head to one side. “Certainly not. Something far more important: perfume. We cannot very well have you fighting crime unscented, now, can we?” “Oh.” Alexia nodded gravely. After all, Madame Lefoux was French. “Certainly not.
Gail Carriger
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Lord Akeldama did so love to know all the gossip about the mundane world, but it was in the manner of a cat amusing himself among the butterflies without a need to interfere should their wings get torn off. They were only butterflies, after all.
Gail Carriger
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Madame Lefoux accepted a cup of tea and sat on another little settee, next to the relocated calico cat. The cat clearly believed Madame Lefoux was there to provide chin scratches. Madame Lefoux provided.
Gail Carriger
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Oh, Lady Maccon, I am unreservedly in love with her. That black hair, that sweet disposition, those capital hats.
Gail Carriger
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He dinna act like an Alpha. He does in some areas.
Gail Carriger