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Worst of all, the inner vault is guarded by a live dragon, attended by fifty naked women armed with poisoned spears, each of them sworn to die in Requin's service. All redheads. -You're just making that up, Jean.
Scott Lynch
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Scott Lynch
Age: 46
Born: 1978
Born: April 2
Author
Novelist
Writer
St Paul
Minnesota
Making
Dragons
Vaults
Women
Armed
Sworn
Live
Fifty
Poisoned
Naked
Jean
Inner
Attended
Service
Spears
Worst
Dragon
Redheads
Dies
Guarded
Vault
More quotes by Scott Lynch
It was strange, how readily authority could be conjured with nothing but a bit of strutting jackassery.
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I think it’s fairly common for writers to be afflicted with two simultaneous yet contradictory delusions, the burning certainty that we’re unique geniuses, and the constant fear that we’re witless frauds who are speeding toward epic failure.
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The water caught the Falselight glimmer like layers of shifting, translucent mirrors and formed split-second works of art in the air, but men cursed it anyway, because it made their heads wet.
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To us — richer and cleverer than everyone else!
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As for history, we are living in its ruins. And as for biographies, we are living with the consequences of all the decisions ever made in them. I tend not to read them for pleasure. It’s not unlike carefully scrutinizing the map when one has already reached the destination.
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I think piracy is a bit like drinking. You want to stay out all night doing it, you pay the price the next day.
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When the sky’s falling, I take shelter under bullshit.
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Only one way to win when you're being chased by someone bigger and tougher than you. Turn straight around, punch their teeth out, and hope the gods are fond of you.
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Cold walls do not a prison make, nor iron bands a bondsman.
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When you can't cheat the game, you'd best find a means to cheat the players.
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Maxilan, darling. Locke raised one eyebrow and smiled. I knew you were driven, but I had no idea you could smoulder. Come, take me now! Jean won't mind he'll avert his eyes like a gentleman.
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Yeah, but if I don't start my nervous pacing now, I'll never have it all done in time.
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What kind of knife is this?” Locke held a rounded buttering utensil up for Chains’ inspection. “It’s all wrong. You couldn’t kill anyone with this.
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I'll wager I would have screwed things up regardless. But. . .can you imagine those poor bastards grappling their prey, leaping over the rails, swords in hand, screaming, 'Your cats! Give us all your gods-damned cats!
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Any man can fart in a closed room and say that he commands the wind
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My disinterest in your bullshit is so tangible you could make bricks out of it
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You simply collapsed, sir. In layman's terms, your body revoked its permission for you to continue heaping abuse upon it.
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If reassurances could dull pain, nobody would ever go to the trouble of pressing grapes.
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Advice,' Doña Vorchenza chuckled. 'Advice. The years play a sort of alchemical trick, transmuting one's mutterings to a state of respectability. Give advice at forty and you're a nag. Give it at seventy and you're a sage.
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You're ten pints of crazy in a one-pint glass.
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