“Franny?” Rosy held up the four little Franks. “Could I keep one of these?”
Franny looked at her hard for a moment then nodded. “’Course you can, hen,” she said, “But that’s not your daddy.”
Rosy gaped. “It’s not?”
“That’s my wee darling. That’s my wee Frankie before the devil twisted him into a monster.” She poked her finger into another hole where Frank’s face should have been. Her eyes glinted.”
― R.G. Manse, quote from Screw Friendship
“Rosy lifted her arm, tried to say something, then pointed at the cafe, held her head, covered her mouth and—humiliation of humiliations—she began to cry. Right there in the street. “I’m so confused,” she said but it came out as a great honking wail.
“Come here, you silly girl,” Phyllis said.
The woman put her arms around Rosy, patted her back, and for the first time in forever, Rosy allowed herself to just cry.
A young mother with twins in a pram passed them. The children’s eyes tracked Rosy for a second before their faces crumpled and they started to cry too.
“I’m sorry,” Rosy said, and flapped her arms. “I’m sorry.”
― R.G. Manse, quote from Screw Friendship
“Frank treated customers with the contempt Rosy had only seen before at airport passport control. Even then, she’d never heard an immigration official refer to anybody as baldy.
“Hey, baldy,” Frank had said and whistled to call a customer back as though he were down in the paddock with an unruly herd. “You forgot your juice.”
Frank held up the bottle of Tropicana orange juice. And when… baldy came back, Frank slapped the bottle into his hand as though passing him the baton in a relay race, then waved the man aside—“Go!”—and pointed at the next customer.
“What do you want?” Frank said. “Cheese? Again? That’s three cheese you’ll have had in a row. Are you eating right?”
The customer stammered.
“Eh-but-eh-but-eh-but,” Frank mimicked. “Never mind. But think up a different filling next time. And not cheese and tomato.” He shook his head and made up the roll.”
― R.G. Manse, quote from Screw Friendship
“Rosy ferried the drinks back to the table, slid the Guinness his way. “You said you have a show. Is it a comedy?”
“No, but you will laugh, I hope, after hearing my qualifications.” His eyes glittered. “I do magic, with a twist. The twist is, my clothes are the first thing to disappear.”
Rosy gaped.
“Yes. I do magic… naked. I not only have a big ego.” Marek wiggled his middle finger. “I have a big wand.”
― R.G. Manse, quote from Screw Friendship
“Rosy’s mummy hands Franny a clear plastic bag full of reject biscuits, then Rosy holds her cheek out for Franny’s wet kiss. Rosy wipes the slime from her face and Franny cackles, then shows them both into the lounge.
There on Franny’s coffee table is a biscuit tin with a Christmas picture on the lid. Proper shop-bought biscuits, not factory rejects.
“Please, may I have a biscuit?” Rosy says.
“Oh, there are no biscuits in that my darling,” Franny says, and pulls the tin from Rosy’s prying fingers. Franny holds open the bag of crumb-speckled chocolate digestives. “Help yourself, my wee hen.”
Rosy settles for a reject.
Franny puts the Christmas tin up high, way up high, way out of reach.”
― R.G. Manse, quote from Screw Friendship
“Rosy waited as long as she dared then sat forward and let her eye rove Franny’s lounge, up and down the shelves, looking for something, not even sure she could bring herself to act if she saw it again, already convinced this was her worst ever idea”
― R.G. Manse, quote from Screw Friendship
R.G. Manse
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“It's all very well to put the government in the hands of the perfect man, but what do you do when the perfect man gets a bellyache?”
― David Eddings, quote from Belgarath the Sorcerer
“He wasn't smart enough to see it, said Jason Bourne. He couldn't think geometrically.”
― Robert Ludlum, quote from The Bourne Supremacy
“An empty hat and raincoat floated at the center of the diagram in Unwin’s mind. Beside them was a dress filled with smoke. A pair of black birds with black hats fluttered above, while below lay two corpses, one in an office chair, one encased in glass. The diagram was a fairy tale, written by a forgetful old man with wild white hair, and it whirled like a record on a phonograph. The”
― Jedediah Berry, quote from The Manual of Detection
“I wanted to check on you one last time . . . see if you needed anything,” she whispered, stopping in the center of the room. “Have you come to give me my orders?” There was a hint of a smile in his voice as he moved to stand before her, arms still crossed. “Orders?” she echoed. “Don’t look out the window. Don’t climb onto the roof. Don’t go below.” She tried to smile, surprised at his easy manner, but her sense of impending disaster only deepened. “I have no heart for a frolic tonight. The soldiers are simply too close.” He looked down at her, studying her small form smothered in moss green wool. She pulled her scarlet shawl closer around her, chilled by the cold bedroom. She could hear Pa calling her but made no move to go. Distracted, her eyes fell to his feet. He wore the shoepacks he’d made as they’d sat together about the fire these long winter nights, just the three of them in a warm circle of firelight—she, he, and Pa. That was what she craved—quiet companionship about the fire, not the forced frivolity before her. She swallowed down a sigh, a bit startled when he put his hands on her shoulders. In the dimness, his face held a rare pensiveness. “Do you forgive me, Morrow?” The heartfelt words returned her to the autumn day he’d first asked. “Forgive you?” she echoed. “Do you forgive me—for my father’s people?” The humble question, now thrice asked, seemed to resound to the far corners of the room. Her lips parted in answer, but no sound came. She had a keen awareness of her own thudding heart. The pressure of his hands. The warmth in his eyes. Below, the frolic seemed to fade away. “Yes.”
― Laura Frantz, quote from Courting Morrow Little
“Mickey Mouse is just a rat in suspenders.”
― Stuart Gibbs, quote from Belly Up
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