Vivian Shaw Quotes

Really", Ruthven had said when the question of his nature had first (awkwardly) arisen, early in their acquaintance, "the easiest thing is to think of me as a large well-dressed mosquito, only with more developed social graces and without the disease-vector aspect.

You can't possibly adopt stray French monsters; wherever would you put it?"

"I have no idea," she said. "It doesn't appear to be in bad shape; honestly, I think someone's been taking at least basic care of it - no mats or snarls, it's a decent weight for its size, completely tame. It's not a thoroughbred, though, which means either it's an adopted stray or it's been summoned, which is a little odd. God knows why anyone would bother doing that kind of magic, but whatever - I suppose Parisian monster fanciers have to get their jollies somehow. I think it's come to visit, not to stow away in my suitcase."

"If this keeps up, you are going to be the most absurd Disney princess of all time," Ruthven told her. "Instead of happy little bluebirds perching on your finger to sing duets, you will be hung about with monsters like a tree with monkeys, and it will thoroughly complicate your personal life.

Grisaille let go of Ruthven and flopped face downward onto the duvet, with a creak of springs.

'I am never leaving this bed again,' he said, muffled by the covers. 'I am amalgamated with this bed. This bed and I have achieved spiritual oneness. I am it and it is me.

Greta smiled suddenly, and he had to blink. It was a little like watching a small and self-contained sunrise. 'Thank you,' she said. 'I'm...very glad you're here.'

Just for a moment, Varney thought that *he* was, too. For a moment.

Varney and Tefnakhte looked at Greta. After a moment she sighed, pushed her hair back. 'I don't know why everyone seems to think I'm the one in charge here; we're all equally making this up as we go along.'

'Because you are,' said Tefnakhte mildly.

The mummy Amennakht was over three thousand years old and on his third set of replacement fingers, but this didn't severely impact his typing speed. On a good day, he was capable of about sixty-five words per minute.

It was useful to be able to work from home -- he hated the word telecommute, he wasn't commuting at all, that was the point -- when you couldn't exactly go out in public without people noticing certain peculiarities in your personal appearance. Nobody cared what you looked like when you existed solely as a source of e-mails and completed assignments.

Don't you think it seems a little... backward, perhaps...to run around committing mortal sins in order to cleanse the world of sin and evil?

Vampires and fancy clothing just went together ; it was one of those things.

And what was most often walled up in cellars, other than mad wives, pregnant nuns, or importunate ex-friends? Valuable objects.

All the forecasts were tentatively hopeful about the idea of it not actually continuing to rain for the remainder of ever, but Varney had his doubts. It really did seem slightly sinister.