Patronising Quotes

“Hello, Gwyn,' he said warmly. 'Good to see you again.'

Gwyn blushed, shaking herself out of her stupor and bowed low. 'My lord.'

Nesta rolled her eyes, and found Rhys watching her. That casual smile sharpened as he met her stare. 'Nesta.'

'Rhysand.'

The other two women were glancing between them, the bouncing of their stares almost comical. Cassian just strode to Nesta's side and slung an arm around her shoulders before drawling to Rhys, 'These ladies are going to hand your ass to you in combat soon enough.'

Nesta made to step out from under the heavy, sweaty weight of his arm, but Cassian clamped a too-friendly hand on her shoulder, his grin unfaltering. Rhys's gaze slid between them, little warmth to be found in his eyes. But plenty of wariness.

Little princeling didn't like her with his friend.

Nesta leaned into Cassian. Not much, but enough for a trained warrior like Rhysand to note.

A dark, silken hand brushed inside her mind. A request.

She debated ignoring it, but found herself opening a small door through the steel, spiked barrier she kept around herself day and night. The door was essentially a peephole, and she allowed what she supposed was the equivalent of her mental face to peer through it to the dark, sparkling plane beyond. What?

You are to treat Gwyn with kindness and respect.

The thing that stood beyond the fortress of her mind was a creature of claws, scales and teeth. It was veiled from sight beneath writhing shadows and the occasional passing star glinting in the darkness, but every now and then, a glimpse of a wing or talon shone.

Mind your own business. Nesta slammed the small viewing hole shut.

She blinked, slowly registering Emerie asking Cassian about tomorrow morning's lesson, and what she'd miss today by leaving an hour early.

Rhysand's eyes glimmered.

Cassian's arm remained around Nesta, and his thumb moved over her shoulder in an idle, reassuring caress. Whether he knew of or sensed her silent conversation with his High Lord, he didn't let on.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A ​Court of Silver Flames

“You could ask your bank manager’s advice, you know, Miss Marple. It really is- one never knows when one wants something for a rainy day.’
‘The only thing I shall want for a rainy day will be my umbrella,’ said Miss Marple.”
― Agatha Christie, Nemesis

“The mother opens her perfect mouth, and any guilt Gabi is feeling is
allayed by the incredible stupid that comes out of it. ‘I hope not. I really
hope not. You being a single mother and all.’ It’s worse than patronizing.
It’s matronizing.
Broken Monsters
pg 281”
― Lauren Beukes

“Paul reached out his hand to help Sophie to her feet; she ignored him (she didn’t hold with patronising gender-stereotypical conventions) and wobbled for a moment before her legs remembered how to cope with her weight.”
― Tom Holt, In Your Dreams

“Little Lucien,' Rhys purred. 'Didn't the Lady of the Autumn Court ever tell you that when a woman says no, she means it?'

'Prick,' Lucien snarled, storming past his sentinels, but not daring to touch his weapons. 'You filthy, whoring prick.'

I loosed a growl.

Lucien's eyes sliced to me and he said with quiet horror, 'What have you done, Feyre?'

'Don't come looking for me again,' I said with equal softness.

'He'll never stop looking for you; never stop waiting for you to come home.'

The words hit me in the gut- like they were meant to. It must have shown in my face because Lucien pressed, 'What did he do to you? Did he take your mind and-'

'Enough,' Rhys said, angling his head with that casual grace. 'Feyre and I are busy. Go back to your lands before I send your heads as a reminder to my old friend about what happens when Spring Court flunkies set foot in my territory.'

The freezing rain slid down the neck of my clothes, down my back. Lucien's face was deathly pale. 'You made your point, Feyre- now come home.'

'I'm not a child playing games,' I said through my teeth. That's how they'd seen me: in need of coddling, explaining, defending...

'Careful, Lucien,' Rhysand drawled. 'Or Feyre darling will send you back in pieces, too.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Mist and Fury