“Go and see whether the Doctor is about,’ said Jack, ‘and if he is, ask him to look in, when he has a moment.’
Which he is in the fish-market, turning over some old-fashioned lobsters. No. I tell a lie. That is him, falling down the companion-way and cursing in foreign.”
― Patrick O'Brian, quote from Blue at the Mizzen
“No man born of woman has ever understood spoken Portuguese.”
― Patrick O'Brian, quote from Blue at the Mizzen
“Touch and away, Jack?’ asked Stephen. ‘Touch and away? Do you not recall that I have important business there? Enquiries of the very first interest?’
To do with our enterprise? To do with this voyage?’
Perhaps not quite directly.”
― Patrick O'Brian, quote from Blue at the Mizzen
“It’s all along of the unicorn’s horn – it’s all along of the glorious hand. Huzzay, three times huzzay for the doctor!’
Lord, how they cheered their surgeon! It was he who had brought the narwhal’s tusk aboard: and the severed hand, the Hand of Glory, was his property: both symbolized (and practically guaranteed) immense good fortune, virility, safety from poison or any disease you chose to name: and both had proved their worth.”
― Patrick O'Brian, quote from Blue at the Mizzen
“He reflected on his hitherto reflection that soldiers and sailors were, upon the whole, quite different creatures. ‘And perhaps they are, too: yet perhaps drink, in very large quantities, may make the difference less evident.”
― Patrick O'Brian, quote from Blue at the Mizzen
“Almost all voyages, from that of Noah’s Ark to the sending of the ships to Troy, have been marked by interminable delays, with false starts and turning wind and tide; perhaps the schooner Ringle was too slim and slight to count as a worthy adversary, because she gently sailed her anchor out of the ground and then bore away a little east of north with a wind that allowed her to spread every sail she possessed, other than those reserved for foul or very foul weather.”
― Patrick O'Brian, quote from Blue at the Mizzen
Patrick O'Brian
Born place: in Chalfont St. Peter, Buckinghamshire, The United Kingdom
Born date December 12, 1914
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“Even in utero and after birth, for every moment of every day, our brain is processing the nonstop set of incoming signals from our senses. Sight, sound, touch, smell, taste—all of the raw sensory data that will result in these sensations enter the lower parts of the brain and begin a multistage process of being categorized, compared to previously stored patterns, and ultimately, if necessary, acted upon. In many cases the pattern of incoming signals is so repetitive, so familiar, so safe and the memory template that this pattern matches is so deeply engrained, that your brain essentially ignores them. This is a form of tolerance called habituation.”
― Bruce D. Perry, quote from The Boy Who Was Raised as a Dog: And Other Stories from a Child Psychiatrist's Notebook
“Forgive me, Sophia. I didn’t mean to offend you. I was just coming over to apologize for hurting you during the, er, ceremony.” “It’s all right.” She looked down at the ground, feeling awkward all over again when she remembered the strange sensations that had flooded her body during the Luck Kiss. “No, it’s not. I drew your blood and for that I must beg your forgiveness.” He sounded formal again, just as he had when he was talking to the priestess. “The gift of blood must be freely given—never taken or forced.” “The…the gift of blood?” She looked up at him uncertainly. “Is that some kind of Kindred ceremony?” He looked uncomfortable. “It is part of the mating ritual of the Blood Kindred. And since you have made it abundantly clear you have no wish to be called as a bride, I shouldn’t have taken your blood.” “So if you did call a bride that would be part of it—of your relationship, I mean? You’d always be…biting her?” She couldn’t help looking at his fangs again and feeling glad they were still small. “Only when we made love,” Sylvan assured her as though that made it all right. Sophie felt her stomach do a slow forward flip but she tried not to show her dismay. “That’s…uh interesting.” “And off the point.” Sylvan frowned, as though irritated with himself. “What I’m trying to say is, please accept my apologies and my best wishes for your health and happiness. I truly did not mean to bite you.” “It’s…I know it was an accident but…” She wanted to ask him more. Wanted to know why his fangs had grown when he kissed her. It wasn’t just his fangs that grew, whispered a little voice in her head and a wave of embarrassment swept over her. “Yes?” Sylvan looked at her earnestly but she shook her head. “It’s okay,” she mumbled, not meeting his eyes. “Seriously, I’m fine. Let’s just…leave it at that.” “I appreciate your willingness to put the incident behind us but I need to examine the wound.” “Why?” Sophie asked. “I know you’re a doctor…er medic but—” “I need to know how serious the injury I inflicted was.” He looked so stern that she tilted her chin up to allow the examination. “It’s not bad at all. See?” she pointed at her bottom lip which, to tell the truth, was still pretty sore. Sylvan cupped her cheek in one hand and leaned forward, studying her hurt lip. For some reason Sophie’s face got hot at the gentle touch and she had to close her eyes. What is he looking for? What’s taking so long? She wished he would hurry up and finish the examination. His hand was so warm and the feel of his skin on hers made her nervous. “Is…is everything all right?” she asked at last. “It appears to be.” He sounded cautiously relieved. “I nicked you pretty badly but I don’t think you got any of my essence.” “Your what?” She opened her eyes to see him looking at her intently. Blushing, she looked quickly away. “My essence. It’s…never mind. You should recover normally.” His voice dropped. “I would offer to heal it for you but I don’t think you’d care for my method of healing.” “What do you mean?”
― Evangeline Anderson, quote from Hunted
“Well, get the coffer out," said Tobie roundly. "You find his clean clothes and I'll cut his hair round his cap and wash his ears out. Then, when we get to the Palazzo Medici, you imitate his voice and I'll sit him on my knee and move his arms up and down. Where is the problem?”
― Dorothy Dunnett, quote from The Spring of the Ram
“Twice in her life she had mistaken something else for it; it was like seeing somebody in the street who you think is a friend, you whistle and wave and run after him, and it is not only not the friend, but not even very like him. A few minutes later the real friend appears in view, and then you can't imagine how you ever mistook that other person for him. Linda was now looking upon the authentic face of love, and she knew it, but it frightened her. That it should come so casually, so much by a series of accidents, was frightening.”
― Nancy Mitford, quote from The Pursuit of Love & Love in a Cold Climate
“O sıralar herkes tarafından da terk edilmiştim, ben onların hepsini terk etmiştim çünkü, işin aslı bu, hiç kimseyi istemiyordum, tıpkı artık hiçbir şeyi istemeyişim ama her şeye de kendi elimle son veremeyecek kadar korkak oluşum gibi. Ve belki de kapkara yılgınlığımın zirvesinde, artık bu sözcüğü ağzıma almaktan da utanmıyorum, çünkü çoktandır, içinde süslenecek tek bir şey kalmayan ama her şeyin sürekli olarak üstelik de en iğrendirici biçimde süslendiği bir dünyada kendi kendime yalan söylemek ve bir şeyleri süslemek niyetinde değilim, Paul çıktı karşıma. O sırada benim için öylesine bambaşka, yeni bir insandı ki, üstelik de yıllar yılı hiçbirine duymadığım kadar hayranlık duyuyordum, o an işte benim kurtarıcım, dedim içimden. Şehir parkının sırası üzerinde otururken birden tekrar bütün bunların apaçık bilincine vardım ve şu dokunaklı halimden, eskiden hiçbir zaman ruhuma girmelerine izin vermediğim ama şimdi zorla, sıkış tıkış ruhuma dahil ettiğim büyük laflardan da utanmadım, şu anda bana müthiş iyi geliyorlardı, onların üzerimdeki etkisini kesinlikle hafifletmeye kalkışmadım. Serinleten bir yağmur gibi bütün bu sözcüklerin üzerimden kayıp gitmelerine izin verdim.”
― Thomas Bernhard, quote from Wittgenstein's Nephew
Hostile Takeover
The Etched City
First Bitten
Six Impossible Thing...
Gray
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