The Bastard Of Istanbul Quotes

How terrible it was to still be mentally and emotionally attached to someone from whom you have been physically separated. ~ Elif Shafak

Visenya and Rhaenys, took a special delight in arranging these matches. Through their efforts, young Ronnel Arryn, Lord of the Eyrie, took a daughter of Torrhen Stark of Winterfell to wed, whilst Loren Lannister's eldest son, heir to Casterly Rock, married a Redwyne girl from the Arbor. When three girls, triplets, were born to the Evenstar of Tarth, Queen Rhaenys arranged betrothals for them with House Corbray, House Hightower, and House Harlaw. Queen Visenya brokered a double wedding between House Blackwood and House Bracken, rivals whose history of enmity went back centuries, matching a son of each house with a daughter of the other to seal a peace between them. And when a Rowan girl in Rhaenys's service found herself with child by a scullion, the queen found a knight to marry her in White Harbor, and another in Lannisport who was willing to take on her bastard as a fosterling. ~ George R.R. Martin

What have I done, Obie?"

Obie flung his hand in the air, the gesture encompassing all the rotten things that had occur under Archie's command, at Archie's direction. The ruined kids, the capsized hopes. Renault last fall and poor Tubs Casper and all the others including even the faculty. Like Brother Eugene.

"You know what you've done, Archie. I don't need to draw up a list-"

"You blame me for everything, right, Obie? You and Carter and all the others. Archie Costello, the bad guy. The villain. Archie, the bastard. Trinity would be such a beautiful place without Archie Costello. Right, Obie? But it's not me, Obie, it's not me...."

"Not you?" Obie cried, fury gathering in his throat, his chest, his guts. "What the hell do you mean, not you? This could have been a beautiful place to be, Archie. A beautiful time for all of us. Christ, who else, if not you?"

"Do you really want to know who?"

"Okay, who then?" Impatient with his crap, the old Archie crap.

"It's you, Obie. You and Carter and Bunting and Leon and everybody. But especially you, Obie. Nobody forced you to do anything, buddy. Nobody made you join the Vigils. Nobody twisted your arm to make you secretary of the Vigils. Nobody pain you to keep a notebook with all that crap about the students, all their weaknesses, soft points. The notebook made your job easier, didn't it, Obie? And what was your job? Finding the victims. You found them, Obie. Yo ~ Robert Cormier

Who's that hot piece of cowboy standing with Nathan?" She pointed toward one end of the barn by a stack of hay bales.
A scowl tightened all the muscles in his face as he followed the length of her arm to the direction of her fingertip. Before he could answer, she was already pulling him again. This time toward his cousin.
"Nate, who's your friend?" she asked, not bothering with hellos. Letting go of Caleb's hand and leaving him feeling empty, she shifted her weight to her toes when she stopped in front of Preston. "Your eyes remind me of those old Sprite bottles. I found one at a flea market once. I think it's still lying around somewhere in my room."
Nathan's chuckle caught her attention. "Diana Alexander, let me introduce you to Preston Grant. He's a childhood friend of mine and Caleb's. Pres, this is Didi."
"Can I paint you naked?" she asked, unabashed, looking up at him. Nathan's chuckles became full-blown laughter. She hiked her thumb at Caleb. His scowl deepened. "This one's too shy."
"It's nice to meet you, Didi," Preston said. He seemed unperturbed by her request. The bastard.
She danced to Nathan's side and leaned in conspiratorially, not taking her eyes away from Preston. "Between you and me," she whispered loud enough for Caleb and the object of her fascination to hear, "just how far does his tan go?"
That had done it. The words came out of his mouth without thinking. "If you're going to paint someone naked, it will be me." With i ~ Kate Evangelista

In that moment, lying there on the floor in agony, he realized that was why his feelings for Liv had so drastically changed. Earlier, she had actually gotten up and attacked one of the men, trying to protect him. Him. A complete bastard who never did anything for anyone. ~ Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

For some reason, the two of us arguing was like some sick form of foreplay. ~ Christina Lauren

But today 'liberal' means to me a person who wants to pass laws and use coercion to force other people to live in his notion of utopia - the world 'liberal' no longer seems to have any connection with its root 'free' - it always means 'Pass another law! Make the bastard do it our way.' Whereas my solution to almost everything is 'Let's repeal that law' or, possibly, 'Let's not do anything - let's wait. ~ Robert A. Heinlein

For he reached the conclusion that everything he had ever seen, or had ever done, or had ever dreamed of doing would in the end betray him. That no matter what you had been, or ever hoped to be, a foot of greenish vomit hanging from your teeth would make you much the same as any other bastard. ~ Chester Himes

Green's mouth was too full to smile and too full to respond. He was ready to go lower but he wanted to make this good. He rose up and straddled Ruxs' legs, flipping him over. Green slapped that sexy ass hard, the sharp sound loud in the dark room. "Bastard," Ruxs murmured. Green started at the base of Ruxs' neck, his tongue being led by the long spine, as he licked his way down, around the valleys and curves of his back. Never had Green seen a man with a hotter body than Ruxs'. When he got to the top of his ass, Green gripped Ruxs' hip and dove in. Just wetting him, priming him. Ruxs face was pressed into the bedding, muffling his cries. Green wanted to hear how he was making Ruxs feel. Green ~ A.E. Via

Callie stared at Daniel. "Bastard!" she hissed. He smiled serenely. His grip was still upon her and he pulled her close, whispering. "The bastard you are about to promise to love, honor, and obey." "I don't love you." "I'm merely shooting for two out of three, and the last two will do nicely. ~ Heather Graham

The parrot eyed me cautiously, like he was forming a vague memory of unhappier times, before Jimmy Buffett and ganja.
"Noisy bastard," he decided. ~ Rick Riordan

You really are a bastard, aren't you? Christian Grey has nothing on you.
My name might be similar, but I'd never say Laters, baby. ~ Jennifer Probst

We'll get into the plane and you'll have a cup of coffee, even a sip of brandy is permissible. And you'll think. Think hard. So hard I can hear your brains creaking. And it will be very good if by the time we reach Edinburgh you already know how to get the Crown of All Things. Because we don't have any time to spare. Only twelve hours until the bomb goes off."
"You bastard," I said.
"No, I'm a highly effective personnel manager," Edgar said, with a smile. ~ Sergei Lukyanenko

Did you ever think much about jobs? I mean, some of the jobs people land in? You see a guy giving haircuts to dogs, or maybe going along the curb with a shovel, scooping up horse manure. And you think, now why is the silly bastard doing that? He looks fairly bright, about as bright as anyone else. Why the hell does he do that for living?
You kind grin and look down your nose at him. You think he's nuts, know what I mean, or he doesn't have any ambition. And then you take a good look at yourself, and you stop wondering about the other guy…

You've got all your hands and feet. Your health is okay, and you make a nice appearance, and ambition-man! You've got it. You're young, I guess: you'd call thirty young, and you're strong. You don't have much education, but you've got more than plenty of other people who go to the top. And yet with all that, with all you've had to do with this is as far you've got And something tellys you, you're not going much farther if any.

And there is nothing to be done about it now, of course, but you can't stop hoping. You can't stop wondering…

…Maybe you had too much ambition. Maybe that was the trouble. You couldn't see yourself spending forty years moving from office boy to president. So you signed on with a circulation crew; you worked the magazines from one coast to another. And then you ran across a little brush deal-it sounded nice, anyway. And you worked that until you found something better, something tha ~ Jim Thompson

Why don't you try?"

I pull away, startled. "Me?"

"No, the other redhead wearing a dress big enough to hide a herd of cattle." He reaches for my hand and grasps a finger to pull it back, but I resist. "Come on. This is not the time to be a coward. Don't you want to see what you're capable of?"

"Well, of course I do - "

"Then try." Derrick offers me an encouraging smile. "You just breathe it out like air. It's not difficult." He waves a hand at me. "Now close your eyes."

I arch a brow and sigh. "Really?"

He glares. "If you don't close your eyes I'll change that dress so quickly you'll look like a furry citrus fruit before you can even call me a bastard. ~ Elizabeth May

Don't start telling yourself stories about me, Esta. I'm not some knight in shining armor. I don't have some hidden heart of gold. I'm a bastard, in every sense of the word."
"Who said I want you to be anything but what you are? I like your angles and your edges," she told him, hoping he could hear the truth in her words. "I have plenty of my own, you know. ~ Lisa Maxwell

Are you two done staring longingly in each other's eyes or should we just take a break?"
Now scowling, Dee turned her head and focused on the only idiot really taking the game seriously.
Mitch took a step back, grabbing his brother and yanking him in front of his body. "Take him, Dee. Take him!"
"You bastard!" Brendon yelped. ~ Shelly Laurenston

For one moment I had a cold feeling he was watching. Over the arm of the couch, I caught a glimpse of his face staring back at me through the dark beyond the window - where just a few minutes earlier I had been crouching. A switch of perception, and I was out on the fire escape again, watching a man and a woman inside, making love on the couch. ... I thought to myself, go ahead, you poor bastard - watch. I don't give a damn anymore. ~ Daniel Keyes

Heaven is boring. Didn't you see, in that picture book back when we used to go to school? It's just plain and white and there is not even any color and it's too orderly. Like there will be crazy prefects telling you all the time: Do thus, don't do that, where are your shoes, tuck in your shirt, shhh, God doesn't like it and will punish you, keep your voice low you'll wake the angels, go and wash, you are dirty, Bastard says.
Me, when I die I want to go where there's lots of food and music and a party that never ends and we're singing that Jobho song, Godknows says. ~ NoViolet Bulawayo

Heavenly Bastard in the Sky, these cockroaches were sadomasochists, looking for the most painful way to die. Once I swallowed one absent-mindedly drinking my tea. Traumatised, I rang the local chemist. The voice on the line was gently reassuring: cockroaches were not poisonous, ingesting one would cause me no harm. Though, the chemist added, in terms of protein they were not as nutritious as snails. ~ Xiaolu Guo

He noticed the hole in the wall. "What the hell happened?"
"We redecorated." I kept my voice level. "Where have you been?"



"Did they succeed?"
"Hell no. Everybody was tired from the hunt and irritable as fuck. They bickered about inheriting the pass, and did their grandstanding, and accused each other of things. Radomil fell asleep. For a few minutes it looked like they might actually agree on something. Then the younger brother - Ignazio - decided it would be a grand idea to jump up and announce that when his nephew was born, at least he would be born smart like his father, so he should inherit the pass and not the other kid, who's been fathered by a citrullo."
"What's a citrullo?"
"From what I gathered, it's either a cucumber or a half-wit." Curran shook his head. "Then the Volkodavi started yelling. The Belve yelled back. Radomil woke up and someone clued him in that he had been insulted but apparently not who'd done it, because Radomil went after Gerardo and called him parazeet and viridok."
"Parasite and bastard," I translated. Voron was Russian. I spoke it well enough, better now that I had someone in Atlanta to practice with, and I'd hung out enough with Ukrainians to pick up the language. Curses were the second thing you learned, right behind yes, no, help, stop, and where is the bathroom?
"Ahh." Curran nodded. "That explains why Gerardo's mother went furry. ~ Ilona Andrews

She had not thought of them as "fat," though. She had thought of them as "big," because one of the first things her friend Ginika told her was that "fat" in America was a bad word, heaving with moral judgment like "stupid" or "bastard," and not a mere description like "short" or "tall. ~ Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

Once again you ask about my wellbeing when I'm the one who just fucked you like a beast." He looked up with desolate eyes. "Can you forgive me for taking you like that? Today of all fucking days. I should've kissed you and made sweet gentle love rather than bruise you like the bastard I am. ~ Pepper Winters

It is not for us to know who does and does not manage to accept forgiveness, but if the love really never stops, if God really does long for every lost soul, then in principle God regards as forgivable a whole load of stuff we really don't want forgiven, thank you. People who use airliners to murder thousands of office workers, people who strut about Norwegian summer camps stealing the lives of teenagers with careful shots to the head, people who drive over their gay neighbor in their pick-up truck and then reverse and do it again, people who torture children for sexual pleasure: God is apparently ready to rush right in there and give them all a hug, the bastard. We don't want that. We want justice, dammit, if not in this world then in the next. We want God's extra-niceness confined to deserving cases such as, for example, us, and a reliable process of judgment put in place which will ensure that the child-murderers are ripped apart with red-hot tongs. ~ Francis Spufford

I'm the kind of bastard they only manufacture in the barrel. ~ Leigh Bardugo

That's what I've never been able to get about religion: that charmless combination of altruism and insanity. Give me a cynical, self-interested bastard any day of the week; at least you can play chicken with him and know he'll stick to the rules. ~ Mike Carey

Then there was David, lording it up at Buckingham Palace, thinking he was king of the shit heap. That guy was definitely nuts, like every dictator that had gone before him. Nero, Caligula, Henry the Eighth, Napoleon, Stalin, Hitler, Mussolini, Margaret Thatcher, Colonel Gaddafi, that crazy North Korean bastard who was in Team America, Kim Jong whatever. ~ Charlie Higson

It is an age lurching along the lip of a dark precipice, peeking fearfully into chaos's empty eyes, enrapt, like a giddy rat trying to stare down a hungry cobra. The gods are restless, tossing and turning and wakening in snippets to conspire at mischief. Their bastard offspring, the hundred million spirits of rock and brook and tree, of place and time and emotion, find old constraints are rotting. The Postern of Fate stands ajar. The world faces an age of fear, of conflict, of grand sorcery, of great change, and of greater despair amongst mortal men. And the cliffs of ice creep forward.
Great kings walk the earth. They cannot help but collide. Great ideas sweep back and forth aross the face of a habitable world that is shrinking. Those cannot help but fire hatred and fear amongst adherents of dogmas and doctrines under increasing pressure.
As always, those who do the world's work most dearly pay the price of the world's pain. ~ Glen Cook

When I was all set to go, when I had my bags and all, I stood for a while next to the stairs and took a last look down the goddam corridor. I was sort of crying. I don't know why. I put my red hunting hat on, and turned the peak around to the back, the way I liked it, and then I yelled at the top of my goddam voice, "Sleep tight, ya morons!" I'll bet I woke up every bastard on the whole floor. Then I got the hell out. Some stupid guy had thrown peanut shells all over the stairs, and I damn near broke my crazy neck. ~ J.D. Salinger

Julia", I answered breathlessly.
"Chloe, are you in the bathroom fucking that nice slice of man cake?"
"I'll be there in a second, okay?" I ended the call and shoved the phone back into my bag. I looked up at him, feeling my rational side return after the small interruption. "I should go."
"Look, I-" He was cut off as my phone rang again. I answered without bothering to look at the screen.
"God, Julia! I'm not in here fucking the piece of man cake!"
"Chloe?" Joel's confused voice sounded through the phone.
"Oh ... hi." Shit. This could not be happening to me. ~ Christina Lauren

Strike, meanwhile, had seen just enough of Robin to be shocked by her appearance. He had never seen her face so pale, nor her eyes so puffy and bloodshot. Even as he sat down at his desk, eager to hear what information on Whittaker Shanker had brought to his office, the thought crossed his mind: What's the bastard done to her? And for a fraction of a second, before fixing all his attention on Shanker, Strike imagined punching Matthew and enjoying it. ~ Robert Galbraith

One of the biggest reasons I left Elkton Hills was because I was surrounded by phonies. That's all. They were coming in the goddam window. For instance, they had this headmaster, Mr. Haas, that was the phoniest bastard I ever met in my life. Ten times worse than old Thurmer. On Sundays, for instance, old Haas went around shaking hands with everybody's parents when they drove up to school. He'd be charming as hell and all. Except if some boy had little old funny-looking parents. You should've seen the way he did with my roommate's parents. I mean if a boy's mother was sort of fat or corny-looking or something, and if somebody's father was one of those guys that wear those suits with very big shoulders and corny black-and-white shoes, then old Haas would just shake hands with them and give them a phony smile and then he'd go talk, for maybe a half an hour, with somebody else's parents. I can't stand that stuff. It drives me crazy. It makes me so depressed I go crazy. I hated that goddam Elkton Hills ~ J.D. Salinger

The days and the light feel like brief moments of torture, put here to remind us of what we don't have any more. Joy is instantaneous, that, is the wonder of joy. Misery and suffering sneak up on someone like a bastard. They drip into your brain slowly, over time. Until one morning you wake up crying and you have no idea why. ~ Craig Stone

Going over to their prisoner, Vishous performed a visual assessment on Xcor. When they'd brought the bastard in here, V had strapped him onto the wooden slab table face-up and spread-eagled, locking stainless-steel cuffs on those wrists and ankles and around that thick neck - and what do you know, the guy was right where he'd left him. Color was passable. Eyes were closed. Head wound at the rear of the skull was no longer leaking, having healed already. ~ J.R. Ward

Something diseased and furry had crawled into her mouth and expired while she slept. That was the only possible explanation as to why Neve had a rancid taste in her mouth and a heavy, viscous paste coating her teeth and tongue.

'I think I'm dying,' she groaned. The wretched state of her mouth was the least of it. There was a pounding in her head, echoed in the roiling of her gut, and her bones ached, her vital organs ached, her throat ached, even her hair follicles ached.

'You're not dying,' said a voice in her ear, which sounded like nails scraping down a blackboard, even though Max's voice had barely risen above a whisper. 'You've got a hangover.'

Neve had had hangovers before and they just made her feel a tiny bit nauseous and grouchy. This felt like the bastard child of bubonic plague and the ebola virus.

'Dying,' she reiterated, and now she realised that she was in bed, which had been a very comfy bed the last time she'd slept in it, but now it felt as if she was lying on a pile of rocks, and even though she had the quilt and Max's arm tucked around her, she was still cold and clammy. Neve tried to raise her head but her gaze collided with the stripy wallpaper and as well as searing her retinas, it was making her stomach heave. 'Sick. Going to be sick.'

'Sweetheart, I don't think so,' Max said, stroking the back of her neck with feather-soft fingers. 'You've already thrown up just about everything you've eaten in the ~ Sarra Manning