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Nettle & Bone

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T. Kingfisher

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“It was the middle of the night, but the long hallway ahead was washed in brilliant sunlight. Sunslight, I thought, correcting myself. I would never get over the fact that Zilvaren had two su— What in all the gods’ names… The smuggler was standing frozen in the middle of the hall with his hands outstretched, knees bent, ass sticking out like he’d shit himself. “Why the fuck are your eyes closed?” I demanded. Carrion cracked one eye open, looking up at me. As soon as he realized we were on the other side of the door, he exhaled, standing up straight, brushing himself off. “I don’t know! It was weird, not being able to see anything. Closing them helped.” He was the strangest male. “Okay. Sure. That makes perfect sense,” I said.”

CarrionKingfisher
Book:Brimstone
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“They walked past offerings displayed on trestle boards and tables... puddings, sliced beef, boiled eggs, paper scoops filled with pickles, olives, salted nuts, or hot green peas glistening with bacon fat. There were roasted potatoes wrapped in waxed paper, crisp slivers of fried fish, smoked oysters crusted with salt, and cones of hardbake sweetmeats or brandy balls. Just a few minutes earlier, Keir had been willing to overlook his hunger in favor of more important concerns. Now that he was surrounded by this profusion of food, however, his empty stomach informed him that nothing else would happen until it was filled. Merritt stopped at a stall featuring sandwiches, bread and butter, and cake. "Evenin', milady," the stallkeeper said with a respectful tip of his hat. "Mr. Gamp," she said warmly. "I've brought this gentleman to try the best ham sandwich in London." "Smoked Hampshire ham, that's the secret," the stallkeeper said proudly as he set out a pasteboard box. "That, and the missus bakes the bread herself. Barm-leavened, to make it soft and sweet.”

LondonBreadSandwichesFood WareSmoked Ham
Book:Devil in Disguise
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“Our weaponry was not dropped onto our laps one morning. It is not manna from Sinai’s skies. Since Agincourt, the White man has refined & evolved the gunpowder sciences until our modern armies may field muskets by the tens of thousands! Aha!’ you will ask, yes, ‘But why us Aryans? Why not the Unipeds of Ur or the Mandrakes of Mauritius?’ Because, Preacher, of all the world’s races, our love—or rather our rapacity—for treasure, gold, spices & dominion, oh, most of all, sweet dominion, is the keenest, the hungriest, the most unscrupulous! This rapacity yes, powers our Progress; for ends infernal or divine I know not. Nor do you know, sir. Nor do I overly care. I feel only gratitude that my Maker cast me on the winning side.”

DominionMusketLadder Of Cvilization
Book:Cloud Atlas
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“Spare time, as I used to understand it, was the time left over from doing the necessary, unpleasant things, like correcting Sophomore English themes or washing out silk stockings in the bathroom. It was the time i frittered away on useless, entertaining pursuits, like the movies or contract bridge. Now almost everything I do - except cooking- is fun, and it is also useful. There is no line of demarcation between work and play. It makes it hard to explain what I do with my spare time.”

WorkLeisureSpare Time
Author:Louise Rich Dickinson
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