Gail Carriger Quotes - Page 2

I never gossip. I observe. And then relay my observations to practically everyone.

A vampire, like a lady, never reveals his true age.

Ah, Lady Maccon, how lovely. I did wonder when you would track us down.” “I was unavoidably delayed by husbands and Ivys,” explained Alexia. “These things, regrettably, are bound to occur when one is married and befriended.

Oh, Lady Maccon, I am unreservedly in love with her. That black hair, that sweet disposition, those capital hats.

The infant-inconvenience kicked in response, and Conall twitched at the sensation. “Active little pup, isn’t he?” “She,” corrected his wife. “As if any child of mine would dare be a boy.” It was a long-standing argument. “Boy,” replied Conall. “Any child as difficult as this one has been from the start must, perforce, be male.” Alexia snorted. “As if my daughter would be calm and biddable.” Conall grinned, catching one of her hands and bringing it in for a kiss, all prickly whiskers and soft lips. “Very good point, wife. Very good point.

Ooo,” said Alexia, fascinated, “it shrinks back down again. The books didn't detail that occurrence.” The earl laughed. “You must show me these books of yours.

Miss Tarabotti was not one of life's milk-water misses--in fact, quite the opposite. Many a gentleman had likened his first meeting with her to downing a very strong cognac when one was expecting to imbibe fruit juice--that is to say, startling and apt to leave one with a distinct burning sensation.

Lyall had spent centuries nibbling about the great layered cake that was polite society while Lord Akeldama acted the part of the frosting on its top.

Lady Maccon stopped suddenly. Her husband got four long strides ahead before he realized she had paused. She was starring thoughtfully up into the aether, twirling the deadly parasol about her head. "I have just remembered something," Alexia said when he returned to her side. "Oh, that explains everything. How foolish of me to think you could walk and remember at the same time.

Lady Maccon.” “By George, Boots! How the deuce can you possibly tell that there is Lady Maccon?” queried the other top-hated gentleman. “Who else would be standing in the middle of a street on full-moon night with a raging ruddy fire behind her, waving a parasol about?” “Good point, good point.

Alexia,” she hissed to her friend, “there are knees positively everywhere. What do I do?

Alexia had found pregnancy relatively manageable, up to a point. That point having been some three weeks ago, at which juncture her natural reserves of control gave way to sentimentality. Only yesterday she had ended breakfast sobbing over the fried eggs because they looked at her funny. The pack had spent a good half hour trying to find a way to pacify her. Her husband was so worried he looked to start crying himself.

My Hallway" remarked Lord Akeldama,"Has never seen such lively action. And That, my sugarplums, is saying something!

Follow that porcupine!

Alexia abhorred hypocrisy, especially when munitions were involved.

Why? I mean, why you? I can perfectly comprehend not liking my husband. I dislike him intensely most of the time.” Professor Lyall stifled a chuckle. “I am given to understand that he does not approve of spelling one’ s name with two ll’s. He finds it inexcusably Welsh. I suspect he may be quite taken with you, however.

Lord Maccon, being Lord Maccon and good at such things, then changed, right there in the Thames, from dog-paddling wolf to large man treading water. He did so flawlessly, so that his head never went under the water. Professor Lyall suspected him of practicing such maneuvers in the bathtub.

Professor Lyall, cursing his Alpha for departing so precipitously, balled up the piece of paper and, after minor consideration for the delicacy of the information it contained, ate it.

Ah, no, deployment was delayed after you left. Technical difficulties.” “Oh?” “Yes, it was technically difficult to leave a heartbroken Alpha.

Lord Maccon, might we have words on the proper tying of a cravat? For my sanity’s sake? Lord Maccon was nonplussed. Professor Lyall, on the other hand, was pained. “I do what I can.” Lord Akeldama looked at him, pity in his eyes. “You are a brave man.

My petal. Westminster’s toy had tea issues. Thank Biffy and Lyall. Toodle pip. A.

What did you do?” “Well, you see, there was this pot of tea, simply sitting there…” He trailed off. “Useful thing, tea,” commented Lyall thoughtfully.

Really, Channing,” remonstrated Alexia, “did you have to eat the man’s dog? I am convinced you will experience terrible indigestion.

Alphas simply did not grovel; arrogance was part of the job description.

Lord Akeldama sighed. 'You lovebirds, how will I endure such flirtations constantly in my company? How déclassé, Lord Maccon, to love your own wife.