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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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Gail Carriger
Age: 48
Born: 1976
Born: May 4
Archaeologist
Novelist
Science Fiction Writer
Writer
Bolinas
California
Eye
Without
Eclairs
Nothing
Filling
Like
Cream
Peculiar
Lack
Eyes
Wrong
More quotes by Gail Carriger
She was no closer to determining who might want her dead. There were just too many possibilities.
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Very well, Lord Maccon. If we are going to play this particular hand, would you be interested in becoming my...” “Mistress?
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Uh, my lord, I am not actually food. You do realize this, yes?
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Lord Akeldama sighed. 'You lovebirds, how will I endure such flirtations constantly in my company? How déclassé, Lord Maccon, to love your own wife.
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Acknowledgements With grateful thanks to the three least-appreciated and hardest-working proselytizers of the written word: independent bookstores, librarians, and teachers.
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Why did you want to go and distract me like that? I was quite in my element and everything.' Conall laughed. 'Someone has to keep you off balance otherwise you'll end up ruling the empire. Or at least ordering it into wretched submission.
Gail Carriger
Captain Niall, having apparently resigned himself to losing his quarry, was savaging her horsehair petticoat into teeny, tiny shreds. Really, what did my poor petticoat do to offend?
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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.
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His lordship can eat my fat—
Gail Carriger
Madame Lefoux shrugged. I do not know about that, my lady. I mean to say, one's life is one thing one's technology is an entirely different matter.
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As with most things in life, Lady Maccon preferred the civilized exterior to the dark underbelly (with the exception of pork products, of course.)
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I'd rather be loyal than right.
Gail Carriger
Poetry can cause irreparable harm when misapplied
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He...boasted an unassuming mustache, which was perched atop his upper lip cautiously, as though it were slightly embarrassed to be there and would like to slide away and become a sideburn or something more fashionable.
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Rail is such an undignified way to travel. All that rapid racing about. Floating has so much more gravitas.
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Someone was trying to kill Lady Alexia Maccon. It was most inconvenient, as she was in a dreadful hurry. Given her previous familiarity with near-death experiences and their comparative frequency with regards to her good self, Alexia should probably have allowed extra time for such a predictable happenstance.
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Lyall had spent centuries nibbling about the great layered cake that was polite society while Lord Akeldama acted the part of the frosting on its top.
Gail Carriger
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
Who doesn’t want an exploding wicker chicken?
Gail Carriger
No one ever explained the octopuses.
Gail Carriger
