Heather > Heather's Quotes

“I only steal because my dear old family needs the money to live!"
Locke Lamora made this proclamation with his wine glass held high; he and the other Gentleman Bastards were seated at the old witchwood table. . . . The others began to jeer.
"Liar!" they chorused
"I only steal because this wicked world won't let me work an honest trade!" Calo cried, hoisting his own glass.
"LIAR!"
"I only steal," said Jean, "because I've temporarily fallen in with bad company."
"LIAR!"
At last the ritual came to Bug; the boy raised his glass a bit shakily and yelled, "I only steal because it's heaps of fucking fun!"
"BASTARD!”
― Scott Lynch, The Lies of Locke Lamora

“You simply collapsed, sir. In layman's terms, your body revoked its permission for you to continue heaping abuse upon it.”
― Scott Lynch, The Lies of Locke Lamora

“Jassaline's little potion seems to have brought up every meal I've had in the past five years." said Locke.
"Nothing left to spit up but my naked soul. Make sure it isn't floating around in one of those before you toss them, right?"

"I think I see it," Jean said. "Nasty, crooked little thing it is too; you're better off with it floating out to sea.”
― Scott Lynch, The Lies of Locke Lamora

“What is government but theft by consent?”
― Scott Lynch, The Republic of Thieves

“ I want to hug you. And I want to tear your gods-damned head off. Both at once."

"Ah," said Locke. "Near as I can tell, that’s the definition of 'family' right there.”
― Scott Lynch, Red Seas Under Red Skies

“As Chains had once said, feeling like you wanted desperately to die was fine evidence that you had yet to do so.”
― Scott Lynch, Red Seas Under Red Skies

“So many mistakes in the end,” he choked out. “Never you.”
― Carissa Broadbent, The Serpent and the Wings of Night

“When you do the right thing for the wrong reason, no one praises you. When you do the wrong thing for the right reason, everyone does, even though what is right and wrong depends entirely on the story you’re living in. And no one says they need recognition or praise or love, but we all hunger for it. We all want to be special.”
― Rachel Gillig, The Knight and the Moth

“To the child in each of us, yearning to be special. Take my hand, you strange little creature, and together we shall walk beyond the wall.”
― Rachel Gillig, The Knight and the Moth

“I was losing my faith in everything. But the two of us meeting… it felt almost divine.”
― Rachel Gillig, The Knight and the Moth

“Time, Vale,” I said. “Time is the most valuable resource of all, and some of us are perpetually short.”
― Carissa Broadbent, Six Scorched Roses

“The Gray King’s back arched, and his mouth hung open, gasping in the icy thrall of shock; with both of his arms he pushed at Locke’s head, as though by prying the smaller man off him he could undo his wound, but Locke held fast, and in an impossibly calm voice he whispered, “Calo Sanza. My brother and my friend.”

Backward, the Gray King toppled, and Locke slid the knife out of his back just before he struck the deck. Locke fell on top of him. He raised the dagger once again and brought it down in the middle of the Gray King’s chest, just beneath his rib cage. Blood spurted and the Gray King flailed, moaning. Locke’s voice rose as he worked the knife farther in: “Galdo Sanza, my brother and my friend!”

With one last convulsive effort, the Gray King spat warm coppery blood into Locke’s face and grabbed at the dagger that transfixed his chest; Locke countered by bearing down with his useless left side, batting the Gray King’s hands away. Sobbing, Locke wrenched the dagger out of the Gray King’s chest, raised it with a wildly shaking right arm, and brought it down in the middle of the Gray King’s neck. He sawed at the windpipe until the neck was half-severed and great rivers of blood were flowing on the deck. The Gray King shuddered one last time and died, his wide white eyes still fixed on Locke’s.

“Bug,” Locke whispered. “His real name was Bertilion Gadek. My apprentice. My brother. And my friend.”

His strength failed, and he slid down atop the Gray King’s corpse.

“My friend.”
― Scott Lynch, The Lies of Locke Lamora