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My petal. Westminster’s toy had tea issues. Thank Biffy and Lyall. Toodle pip. A.

Gail Carriger

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Gail Carriger
Age: 48
Born: 1976
Born: May 4
Archaeologist
Novelist
Science Fiction Writer
Writer
Bolinas
California
Petal
Westminster
Petals
Toys
Tea
Thank
Issues

More quotes by 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.
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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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He was so very large and so very gruff that he rather terrified her, but he always behaved correctly in public, and there was a lot to be said for a man who sported such well-tailored jackets---even if he did change into a ferocious beast once a month.
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Biffy didn't like enigmas - they were out of fashion.
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Ivy waved her wet handkerchief, as much as to say 'words cannot possibly articulate my profound distress'. Then, because Ivy never settled for meaningful gestures when verbal embellishments could compound the effect, she said, Words cannot possibly articulate my profound distress.
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...Tunstell was not what one could describe as call subtle. His flaming red hair bobbed up with each pointed and articulated footstep as though he were some cloaked Gothic villain creeping across a stage.
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Even Alexia, spinster that she was, was given an allowance large enough to dress her to the height of fashion— although she did tend to stick to trends a little too precisely. The poor thing could not help it. Her choice of clothing simply lacked soul.
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His eyes were jet-colored circles of perpetual disapproval.
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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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Classic author moment, Oh dear, did I kill that character or not?
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And I find perfect beauty excessively boring, don't you?
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Really, Channing,” remonstrated Alexia, “did you have to eat the man’s dog? I am convinced you will experience terrible indigestion.
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Oh, Lady Maccon, I am unreservedly in love with her. That black hair, that sweet disposition, those capital hats.
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Oh, dear me, no. Then I should be known as that vampire with all the cats.
Gail Carriger
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Highland werewolves had a reputation for doing atrocious and highly unwarranted *things*, like wearing smoking jackets to the dinner table.
Gail Carriger
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Rail is such an undignified way to travel. All that rapid racing about. Floating has so much more gravitas.
Gail Carriger
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The ill-informed masses included her own family among their ranks, a family that specialized in being both inconvenient and asinine.
Gail Carriger
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My father, she admitted, was of Italian extraction. Unfortunately, not an affliction that can be cured. She paused. Though he did die.
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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His lordship can eat my fat—
Gail Carriger