FayJay Quotes

Merlin, if you don't stop whining, I'm going to take Gwen's sword and beat you to death with it," said Arthur, evenly.
"It's plastic."
"So it will take me a long time. I'm still game.

I wouldn't want to fuck you if you had a ten inch knob made of gold and your arsehole was the gate to Nirvana. I can't be friends with you because you're a gibbering twatwaffle, not because I would ever, in a million years, want to shag you. Get over yourself!

You're just jealous of my beard."
"No. No, really not. It makes you look like you've got a ferret trying to shag your chin.

The who with the what now?"The dragon cocked its head to one side and gave this utterance careful consideration. "I'm afraid that I don't quite follow you, young warlock," it admitted, sounding rather testy."Your young
language does change so swiftly."
"Sorry! I just meant – I meant: 'bloody hell'!

Arthur shook his head. "You'd be an appalling mother, Morgana. You're a terrible example, you
know," he said, handing her the bottle. "God help any actual children you do find yourself
having."
"They'd be adorable," she said, sticking her chin out. "I would make fabulous babies. They'd be
born swearing and clutching packets of Benson and Hedges, bless their hypothetical little hearts,
and railing against the patriarchy, and they'd very quickly rule the world.

You know you're having a crappy morning when the best that can be said for it is that at least you're not a Smurf.

You are totally Cinderella," Gwen said, undeterred. "You're a big-eared, trouser-wearing, penis-having, magic-wielding Cinderella, if ever there was one." "I – you – what are you like ? I'm not Cinderella!"

"You're Cinder-fella.

There – that was the awkward 'I think you're lovely and I do hope we can be friends but, oh, by the way, please don't get flirty because I'm not really in the vagina business' bit over and done with

Good grief," said Merlin. "You look like the bastard child of
Dumbledore and David Bowie. No, sorry, Dumbledore and Ziggy
Stardust.

Merlin smiled. "Thank you, sir! It was just Game Theory."
"It was just – is this a Maths thing?"
"Well, Maths and Philosophy, and..."
"Stop! Stop right there – I really have no wish to hear you expound upon either Mathematics or
Philosophy, Merlin. Just take the compliment

You – you don't really want to hear me
talking about my love life, do you?"
"'No' seems such a flimsy and inadequate little word to express how very little interest I have in
hearing you rambling on about that particular topic," said the dragon. "Your mating rituals are
roughly as fascinating to me as the eating habits of snails."
"Right," said Merlin. "Fair enough.

And then an endless instant later Arthur was kissing him back, like this was perfectly normal, like this was exactly what Arthur had been hoping for most in all the world, his large hands closing over Merlin's shoulders and sliding down over his back, strong and warm even through the fabric of his sweater, one hand pausing on his waist and the other sliding around to cup his arse and pull him in closer. Merlin made a surprised, enthusiastic sound and stopped holding back; let himself cling to Arthur and kiss him more fiercely; and then they were kissing like it was their last day on earth and they had to cram every possible moment of passion into this tiny slice of time, hands clutching at fabric, mouths pressing hungry bites onto bare skin as if they would somehow devour one another, trying to touch and taste everything at once, frantic and needy and bursting with urgent desire and the inescapable knowledge that this was finite, was stolen, was not supposed to be.

He didn't want to have to be the Gay Best Friend providing life lessons for liberal straight people. He just wanted to get laid.

[Arthur]
"Er ... Just how much did you have to drink?"
Merlin frowned at Arthur ... Both of him.

No' seems such a flimsy and inadequate little word to express how very little interest I have in hearing you rambling on about that particular topic.

[Arthur to Merlin]
I'm the Prince of Wales, and you're Welsh. I can do whatever I bloody well like to you.

Look, it's all right for you. You don't have to walk along pulling the damned bin while you're
wearing a bloody great dress that keeps tripping you up."Arthur made an impatient noise. "Have you seen my outfit? The only difference between what we're wearing is that yours shows more cleavage and mine comes with a beard.""It does not show cleavage!" Merlin exclaimed, temporarily distracted. He squinted down at his chest. "I haven't got any cleavage for it to show!

It turned out that it was difficult to stay cross with a man when you could see his nipples.

I've created a monster, haven't I?" said Merlin, staring at the animated figure incredulously.
"I think that, technically, I was already a monster," the dragon replied. "Now I am a monster with social networking skills. Or I would be, if I had a Twitter account. And possibly a Facebook. Do I want a Facebook? Is it a book of faces? Is it the same as MySpace? Which of course begs the question: what is MySpace?