M. K. Hobson Quotes

What kind of idiot do you think I am?
"I have no idea what kind of idiot you are," Miss Jesczenka said. "That's why I'm asking."

It was disappointing, as if a wish she didn’t know she’d made hadn’t come true.

Could one die from boredom, she wondered? From complete, oppressive, crushing, unmitigated boredom, the likes of which made all other boredom seem like ecstasy’s sweet thrilling embrace? And in such a case, if one happened to have a life insurance policy, would it pay?

Before the sun went down again, she realized, she would be in New York. The thought sent a nervous thrill through her entire body. Her throat was tight, her heart suddenly racing.

Dignity is like morality, Mirabilis barked. Too much is as bad as too little.

The obsessive rules of etiquette struck Emily as mean-spirited, like the old trick of tying someone’s shoelaces under the table. It was only fun if you liked watching people fall down.

Emily stared into the middle distance, trying to ignore the fact that the men were looking at her like a cupcake on a plate.

Sadly, there is a fine line between patriotism and paranoia.

I'm sorry Mr. Stanton, really I am. I didn't mean to miss it. Things...happened.
"Oh, well. Things happened. How nice to have that cleared up."

Senator Stanton? The man who’s sold his own soul so many times that no one can figure out who actually owns it?

Ever mind the Rule of Three...Three times what thou givest returns to thee.

It was her own evil assumptions that had done her in. She hadn’t even considered the third possible explanation for his strange behavior—that he was a perfectly nice man, without an ounce of guile, just trying to be helpful. People helped people in California. Why hadn’t she thought of that? She’d only been in New York a few weeks, and already she was turning hard and suspicious.

Love. Such a lot of damn fuss.

But it was impossible to remain so long in the company of a female, even a divine one, without suffering some form of disillusionment.

I’d ask you to forego the jingoistic claptrap, but it’s terrifyingly obvious you truly believe it.