Karen Plummer

“Svenson jammed the cap down over his ears and marched for the door. “ ‘Hi ho, hi ho, it’s off to war we go!’ ” “Mama, how do you stand him?” demanded Frideswiede, youngest of the seven sisters. Her father counterwheeled, snatched his wife in a Rudolph Valentino embrace, and bussed her mightily. “ ‘Farewell, my own. I return with my shield,’ or—What the hell’s the rest of it?” “For you there is no rest of it,” said his helpmeet, tucking back a strand of flaxen hair and casting a somewhat complacent glance at Frideswiede. “Go, then, I will keep a herring in the window for you.” “Mama,” said Gudrun, the second youngest, “it’s a candle you’re supposed to keep in the window.” “Nonsense, my child. A candle would smoke up the glass and drip on the sill. A herring lies looking mournful and bereft. The symbolism is much more meaningful. Also it comes in handy for smorgasbord later. Get ready now at once or you will miss the school bus.”
― Charlotte MacLeod, The Luck Runs Out

“Scions of old families who've hit the skids do like to flaunt their illustrious ancestors....”
― Charlotte MacLeod, The Corpse in Oozak's Pond

“Man cannot live by swine alone.”
― Charlotte MacLeod, Rest You Merry

“Not that he'd have doubted Helen's word in any case; she was a librarian, and librarians were never wrong.”
― Charlotte MacLeod, Vane Pursuit