Share
×
Inspirational Quotes
Authors
Professions
Topics
Tags
Quote
The bowl landed, in glorious perfection, atop the head of Mrs Barnaclegoose, who was not the kind of woman to appreciate the finer points of being crowned by trifle.
Gail Carriger
Share
Change background
T
T
T
Change font
Original
TAGS & TOPICS
Gail Carriger
Age: 48
Born: 1976
Born: May 4
Archaeologist
Novelist
Science Fiction Writer
Writer
Bolinas
California
Perfection
Trifle
Appreciate
Landed
Head
Finer
Woman
Trifles
Kind
Bowl
Bowls
Points
Atop
Glorious
Crowned
More quotes by Gail Carriger
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.
Gail Carriger
...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.
Gail Carriger
His lordship can eat my fat—
Gail Carriger
One should do what one is best at on as large a scale as possible.
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.
Gail Carriger
I may be a werewolf and Scottish, but despite what you may have read about both, we are not cads!
Gail Carriger
Ah, Lady Maccon, how lovely. I did wonder when you would track us down.” “I was unavoidably delayed by husbands and Ivys,” explained Alexia. “These things, regrettably, are bound to occur when one is married and befriended.
Gail Carriger
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.
Gail Carriger
I'd rather be loyal than right.
Gail Carriger
Floote, what is going on? Do they think I am contagious? Should I assure them I was born with a nose this size?
Gail Carriger
What do you want? Sophronia was moved to exasperation. Me? Stockings and breeches to come back in fashion. I do miss seeing a man's calves.
Gail Carriger
You do realise modern social mores exist for a reason? I was hungry, allowances should be made.
Gail Carriger
Oh, Lady Maccon, I am unreservedly in love with her. That black hair, that sweet disposition, those capital hats.
Gail Carriger
A vampire, like a lady, never reveals his true age.
Gail Carriger
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
How ghastly for her, people actually thinking, with their brains, and right next door. Oh, the travesty of it all.
Gail Carriger
His eyes are peculiar. There is nothing in them, like an eclair without the cream filling. It's wrong, lack of cream.
Gail Carriger
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
It's no good choosing your first husband from a school for evil geniuses. Much too difficult to kill.
Gail Carriger
What have I done thins time? he paused to ask before continuing with his oral expedition about her body: her husband, the intrepid explorer.
Gail Carriger