Touche Clancey Quotes

In Broadway, I suddenly found myself face to face with William de la Touche Clancey.

"Well!" A long drawn-out syllable, in which fear and condescension were unpleasantly mingled. "What is the young Old Patroon about to turn his hand to next?"

"The Vauxhall Gardens, I should think." My dislike of Clancey is almost physical. Yet I stare at him with fascination; note that his protuberant eyes are yellowish; that he scratches himself compulsively; that his tongue darts in and out of his mouth like a lizard's catching flies.

"Of the delicious nymphs you sport with there?"

"Of the delicious fauns, too - and their goatish friends."

"Uh-huh..." A long, drawn-out attempt at sounding amused failed of its object. "I hope you realize that your editor's unholy passion for the Negro grows more embarrassing each day. If I were he I should beware. He might simply vanish one dark night."

"Murdered? Or sold into slavery?" Clancey recently delighted his admirers by proposing that since the institution of slavery has been an integral part of every high civilization (and peculiarly well-adapted to those nations that follow the word as well as the spirit of Old and New Testaments), poor whites should be bought and sold as well as blacks.

"I don't believe that poor sick Mr. Leggett would command a high price in the bazaar. Only his diseased mind would have a certain morbid interest to the special collector. You, on the o ~ Gore Vidal

Touche, mon ami. Too fugging shay. ~ John Green

I'm expecting a miracle. Don't taint it with logic. ~ Ofir Touche Gafla

All the birds love Touche Eclat. It's a (concealer) pen that gets rid of eye bags. But I'm quite happy otherwise. I train a lot. ~ Jason Flemyng

We wish you a happy and satisfying death. Welcome to the Other World. ~ Ofir Touche Gafla

Oh, please," I rolled my eyes, "You're a leftie, Barrons."
"Touche, Ms. Lane," he murmured. ~ Karen Marie Moning

A critical assumption is sometimes made that [Grisham, Clancey, Crichton & myself] have access to some mystical vulgate that other (and often better) writers cannot find or will not deign to use. I doubt if this is true. Nor do I believe the contention of some popular novelists ... that thier success is based on literary merit
that the public understands true greatness in ways the tight-a**ed, consumed-by-jealousy literary establishment cannot. This idea is ridiculous, a product of vanity and insecurity. ~ Stephen King

Touche.
What does that mean? Jasper raises his eyebrows quizzically.
It means you're right.
Jasper rolls his eyes. Of course I'm touche. I'm always touche. ~ Jessica Brody

Some time ago, my son Emilio was going back to school after vacation. He did not like the idea at all and was filled with anxiety. To him, the approach of school days was like a monster that threatened him and wanted to squash him. What is a parent supposed to do? I tried to lift his spirits, to distract him, convince him it was not as bad as it seemed, but in vain. Then I hit upon the idea of offering him something that is almost taboo in our family: French fries at a fast-food place. Usually anything that is prohibited appeals to Emilio, especially junk food. I thought I had the ace up my sleeve. But no. Emilio's reply ought to be chiseled in stone: "Dad, you don't solve problems with french fries."

Touche. You don't pretend problems do not exist, and you can't solve them with ephemeral distractions. You have to face them with open-eyed honesty. Offering French fries to my son in order to console and distract him from his anxiety was by no means a kind act. I was simply choosing the easier option--far too easy. I had found a comfortable way out. ~ Piero Ferrucci

She continued, "You know, we never use that word. Aspies. We don't want them thinking it's some sort of club." More negative implications from someone who was presumably paid to assist and encourage.
"Like homosexuality?" I asked.
"Touche," said Julie. ~ Graeme Simsion

My friend says touche way too much. He's a touche bag. ~ Demetri Martin

Finders keepers!" Ian shouted, scooping up the overlay and hopping onto a rock outcropping.
"You cheater!" Amy was furious. No way was he going to get away with that. She climbed the rock, matching him step for step until she reached the top. There he turned to her, panting for breath. "Not bad for a Cahill," he said, grinning.
"You --y-y-you--" The words caught in her throat, the way they always did. He was staring at her, his eyes dancing with laughter, making her so knotted up with anger and hatred that she thought she would explode. "C-c-can't--"
But in that moment, something totally weird happened. Maybe it was a flip of his head, a movement in his eyebrow, she couldn't tell. But it was as if someone had suddenly held a painting at a different angle, and what appeared to be a stormy sea transformed into a bright bouquet -- a trick of the eye that proved everything was just a matter of perspective. His eyes were not mocking at all. They were inviting her, asking her to laugh along. Suddenly, her rage billowed up and blew off in wisps, like a cloud. "You're ... a Cahill, too," she replied.
"Touche."
His eyes didn't move a millimeter from hers.
This time she met his gaze. Solidly. This time she didn't feel like apologizing or attacking or running away. She wouldn't have minded if he just stared like that all day. ~ Peter Lerangis

I heard there are no male sidhe-seers."
Where did you hear that?"
Around."
And which one of those are you in doubt about Ms. Lane?"
Which one of what?"
Whether I see the Fae, or whether I'm a man. I believe I've laid your mind to rest on the former; shall I relieve it on the latter?" He reached for his belt.
Oh, please." I rolled my eyes. "You're a leftie, Barrons."
Touche, Ms. Lane," he murmered. ~ Karen Marie Moning

A body is a body." Viscarro shrugged his bony shoulders. "Dead, alive, alive, dead. I fail to see the importance of the distinction."
Yeah? So you'd just as soon fuck a living person as a dead one? What's the point of the distinction? Oh, right-one's normal, and one's called necrophilia."
Viscarro sighed. "Touche, I suppose. ~ Tim Pratt

Forgive me," he said tightly. "That was uncalled for."
"It certainly was," Maria said. "She was saying nice things about you."
His gaze shot to her. "She was pointing out, yet again, how I've failed my family."
"If you don't like it," Maria countered, "why don't you stop failing them?"
"Touche, Maria," Minerva said softly.
Gritting his teeth, Oliver turned his gaze out the window, no doubt wishing he could be well away from them all. And as he retreated into himself, Minerva began to tell one story after another about Oliver as a boy.
Maria didn't want to be enchanted by them, but she couldn't help herself. She laughed at the tale of how he'd fallen into the pond in front of Halstead Hall while trying to "charm" fish into the boat the way Indians charmed snakes out of their baskets. She tried not to laugh at the one where he coaxed Gabe into sharing Gabe's piece of cake by claiming that it might have been poisoned, requiring Oliver to "taste it and make sure it was safe."
But the tale about some lad pulling five-year-old Minerva's hair, and Oliver jumping to her rescue by punching Minerva's attacker, made Maria want to cry. The Oliver who'd defended his sister still existed-she glimpsed him from time to time. So where had the other, carefree Oliver gone? His siblings didn't seem nearly as bitter over the tragedy of their parents' deaths as he. Was it simply because he'd been older? Or did something else about it plague him? ~ Sabrina Jeffries

Spell-check refuses to recognize the word "chupacabra." Probably because it's racist. Spell-check, I mean. Not chupacabras. Chupacabras are monsters from Mexico that suck blood out of goats. They don't care what race you are. Bizarrely, spell-check is perfectly fine with the word "CHUPACABRA!" in all caps, which makes no sense at all. Unless it's because it recognizes that you'd use the word only while screaming. Touche, spell-check. P.S. Actual words used in this book that spell-check insists are not real words: Velociraptors. Shiv. Chupacabra. Yay. It's like spell-check doesn't even want me to write my memoir. ~ Jenny Lawson

If actions speak louder than words
I'm the most deafening noise you've heard
I'll be that ringing in your ears
That will stick around for years ~ Touche Amore

I followed him through the halls of the enormous church until we got to the staff's kitchen. He went to the fridge, opened it, and came out with a bottle of bourbon. He poured some into a coffee cup, drank it down, and poured some more. He offered me the bottle.
No, thanks. Aren't you supposed to drink vodka?
Aren't you supposed to wear a pointy hat and ride on a flying broomstick?
Touche, I said. ~ Jim Butcher