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But we were talking about me and my problems. Sophronia looked Monique up and down gravely. I don't think we're going to solve those in the space of one carriage ride.

Gail Carriger

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Gail Carriger
Age: 48
Born: 1976
Born: May 4
Archaeologist
Novelist
Science Fiction Writer
Writer
Bolinas
California
Problem
Carriage
Going
Carriages
Think
Ride
Thinking
Solve
Looked
Problems
Space
Talking
Gravely

More quotes by 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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These things, regrettably, are bound to occur when one is married and befriended.
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I am entirely capable. Of what, waddling up to someone and ruthlessly bumping into them?
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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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He is clearly bookish. I did not follow a single word of their conversation at dinner last night, not one jot of it. He must be bookish.
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Ah, Ivy, thought Alexia happily, spreading a verbal fog wherever she goes.
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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.
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I suspect it may be like the difference between a drinker and an alcoholic the one merely reads books, the other needs books to make it through the day.
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These feelings you engender in me, my lord, are most indelicate. You should stop causing them immediately.
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The Gamma paused. “You have a crazed werewolf in your wine cellar?” “You can think of a better place to stash him?” “What about the wine?
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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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His eyes are peculiar. There is nothing in them, like an eclair without the cream filling. It's wrong, lack of cream.
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My petal. Westminster’s toy had tea issues. Thank Biffy and Lyall. Toodle pip. A.
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How ghastly for her, people actually thinking, with their brains, and right next door. Oh, the travesty of it all.
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There are words to describe her, my dear, but one does not repeat them in polite company.
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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.
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Poetry can cause irreparable harm when misapplied
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So, what do you think, my dear, will it be a girl or a boy?” “It will be a soul-stealer, apparently.” “What!” The earl reared away from his wife and looked down at her suspiciously.
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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.
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The important question is, what will your wear for a wedding dress, Alexia? You look horrible in white.
Gail Carriger