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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.
Scott Lynch
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Scott Lynch
Age: 46
Born: 1978
Born: April 2
Author
Novelist
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St Paul
Minnesota
Kill
Locke
Couldn
Utensils
Anyone
Rounded
Wrong
Inspection
Kind
Knife
Knives
Chains
Held
Utensil
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They kissed for the sort of endless moment that only exists between lovers whose lips are still new territory to one another.
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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 simply collapsed, sir. In layman's terms, your body revoked its permission for you to continue heaping abuse upon it.
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I can’t name the poison that’s killing your friend. But the one that’s killing you is called hope.
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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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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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Cold walls do not a prison make, nor iron bands a bondsman.
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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 you can't cheat the game, you'd best find a means to cheat the players.
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It was strange, how readily authority could be conjured with nothing but a bit of strutting jackassery.
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We’re a different sort of thief here, Lamora. Deception and misdirection are our tools. We don’t believe in hard work when a false face and a good line of bullshit can do so much more.
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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.
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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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If reassurances could dull pain, nobody would ever go to the trouble of pressing grapes.
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To us — richer and cleverer than everyone else!
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A boy may be as disagreeable as he pleases, but when a girl refuses to crap sunshine on command, the world mutters darkly about her moods.
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When the sky’s falling, I take shelter under bullshit.
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Any man can fart in a closed room and say that he commands the wind
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