Scott Lynch Quotes

Refusal noted and cordially declined.

I never would've thought—
Don't think, said Locke. I'm paid to do that for you.

As for history, we are living in its ruins. And as for biographies, we are living with the consequences of all the decisions ever made in them. I tend not to read them for pleasure. It‘s not unlike carefully scrutinizing the map when one has already reached the destination.

You're trying to be charming again, she said softly, but I do not choose to be charmed, Locke Lamora.

In my dreams I sign chits and file papers, Nikoros muttered. Then I awake to sign real chits and file real papers. I imagine my grave marker will be carved as a writing desk. 'Here lies Nikoros Via Lupa, wifeless and heirless, but gods how he could alphabetize!'

In time, you’ll come to understand that a state like ours cannot afford to offer up a show of weakness for honesty’s sake; Duke Nicovante charges me with vouchsafing his security, not his conscience.

Are you really that arrogant, that logic is as optional as a fashion accessory for you?

I have always found the presumptions of others to be the best possible disguise—haven’t you?

That's not worth worrying about. If pressed I'll use the never-fail universal apology.
What's the n-never-fail universal apology?
'I was badly misinformed, I deeply regret the error, go fuck yourself with this bag of money.'

'Commonly thought,' you say? Many things are commonly thought, but perhaps not commonly thought all the way through.

Sabetha threw her own shoes and costume components on the tiles near the bath. She retained only her black hose and a dressing gown. Locke did his best to look like he wasn’t staring, and she did an admirable job of pretending she wasn’t encouraging him.

”Oh, gods,” he cried. ”Oh, gods protect me! It’s you!”
“Of course it’s me,“ said Locke. “You just don’t know who the hell I am yet.“

You can’t help being young, but it’s past time that you stopped being stupid.

Maybe this is going to complicate the hell out of things. So what? You’re the complication I want more than anything else. You’re my favorite complication.

Advice, chuckled Doña Vorchenza. The years play a sort of alchemical trick, transmuting one's mutterings to a state of respectability. Give advice at forty and you're a nag. Give it at seventy and you're a sage.