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Quote by James Thomas Kesterson Jr

“The Secret Service that stays with the president of the United States everyday for the rest of their life is not only there to only protect the president from harm, they're there to make sure the president follows his orders given to him by his boss.”

Quote by James Thomas Kesterson Jr

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James Thomas Kesterson Jr

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“Here the walls have ears. Spies are stationed behind every drapery, curtain, arras. Your spies, the agents of your secret service: their assignment is to draft detailed reports on the palace conspiracies. The court teems with enemies, to such an extent that it is increasingly difficult to tell them from friends; it is known for sure that the conspiracy that will dethrone you will be made up of your ministers and officials. And you know that every secret service has been infiltrated by agents of the opposing secret service. Perhaps all the agents in your pay work also for the conspirators, are themselves conspirators; and thus you are obliged to continue paying them, to keep them quiet as long as possible. Voluminous bundles of secret reports are turned out daily by electronic machines and laid at your feet on the steps of the throne. It is pointless for you to read them: your spies can only confirm the existence of the conspiracies, justifying the necessity of your espionage; and at the same time they must deny any immediate danger, to prove that their spying is effective. No one, for that matter, thinks you must read the reports delivered to you; the light in the throne room is inadequate for reading, and the assumption is that a king need not read anything, the king already knows what he has to know.”

“I chose the Scheherazade, an irresistible-sounding combination of pistachio cake with cream cheese frosting and a raspberry center, topped with a generous sprinkling of crushed pistachios and one perfect raspberry. I've always loved raspberries but since arriving in Paris had a newfound passion for pistachios, which were included in so many delectable desserts and pastries, either whole or ground with sugar into delicious marzipan.”

“You're all right?' he asks, brushing my hair back from my face. 'I'm great. You're great. That was...' 'Great?' he supplies. 'Exactly. 'I was going to use the word "explosive", but I think "great" covers it.' His fingers tangle in my hair. 'I fucking love your hair. If you ever want to bring me to my knees or win an argument, just let it down. I'll get the point.”

“Did I...' 'Ser the curtains on fire?' He lifts a brow. 'Yes.' 'Oh.' I can't find it in me to be embarrassed, so I brush the backs of my fingers across the stubble along his jaw. 'And you put it out.' 'Yes. Right before I destroyed your throwing target.' He grimaces. 'I'll get you a new one.' I glance over at the armoire. 'And we...' 'Yep.' He lifts his brows. 'and I'm pretty sure you need a new chair, too.' 'That was...' I didn't even get the man's pants entirely off, and my dressing gown is haphazardly hanging from one shoulder. 'Frighteningly perfect.' He cups the side of my face. ' We should get you cleaned up and to sleep. We can worry about... your room tomorrow. Ironically, your bed is the only thing we didn't wreck.”