Tom Holt Quotes

British writer

Thomas Charles Louis Holt (born September 13, 1961) is an author of parodic mythopoeic fiction. He is the son of novelist Hazel Holt. Steve Nallon collaborated with Holt to write I, Margaret, an unauthorized biography of Margaret Thatcher published in 1989. He also writes fantasy under the pseudonym K. J. Parker.

From: Wikiquote (CC BY-SA 4.0)

Pen Names: K. J. Parker

Alternative Names: Thomas Charles Louis Holt • K.J. Parker

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Good guys is just a fancy way of saying Us. Bad guys is only ever Them.' -

Like, there's these new fundamentalist religious fanatics, some name like Meek Militant Action. Their aim's to inherit the Earth, provided nobody objects.' - c. 12

Vote!' [Saint] George rolled his eyes. 'This is an assassination, not a debating society.' - c. 7

Here and there a doorway or low arch concealed the occasional mugger, rapist or lawyer.

[...] the dragon got three cartsful of angry letters from the Pope (which he dismissed as a load of bulls) [...]

Besides, [Saint] George pointed out, dragons burn towns and demand princesses as ransom.
The dragons, referring to the Siege of Jerusalem, the Sack of Constantinople and a thousand years of dynastic marriages, said, Look who's talking.

Luck, like a Russian car, generally only works if you push it.

Tact comes as naturally to full-bore handguns as, say, ice-skating to African elephants, but there comes a time when an exceptional individual is prepared to stand up and break the mould.

He didn't smile - he was from Yorkshire, after all - but in some inner chamber of his heart he was satisfied.

...and we have already seen how insurance is like a pyramid - (Huge, incomprehensible, hideously expensive, completely unnecessary and specifically designed only to be of benefit to you once you're dead?)

Genies rarely have nightmares, for the same reason that elephants don't usually worry about being trampled underfoot. With the possible exception of bottles, there's nothing in the cosmos large enough or malicious enough to frighten them, or stupid enough to try.

It was, they told him, all part of a concept which was definitely going to be The Future as far as Hell Holdings was concerned.
For reasons he couldn't quite grasp, but which he couldn't help but feel mildly flattering, they were going to call it EuroBosch.

Ronnie Bosch sat in his studio, stared long and hard at his drawing board, and groaned.

Between the town of Giles, to the north of the Tomkinson Range, and Forrest in the Nullarbor Plain, lies the Great Victorian Desert. It is hot, arid, desolate and merciless; and whatever the Creator had in mind when He made it that way, it most certainly wasn't human beings.
It's a really awful place to be if you've got toothache.

That's it?' Boamund said.
'Basically, yes,' the hermit replied. 'I've left out Helmut von Moltke and the Peace of Nikolsburg, and maybe I skated over the Benelux customs union a bit, but I think you've got the essentials there. Anything you're not sure about, you can look up in the book.' - c. 1