The Republic of Thieves (Gentleman Bastard, #3)

by Scott Lynch

Get me a sharp one.” The Thiefmaker spat out a gnawed crescent of dirty fingernail and wiped his fingers on his coat. “Hell, fetch me Sabetha.”

Finally

Camorr was civilized, after all; there were acceptable and unacceptable times for killing children.

The money hadn’t lasted. After a few days, Jean had sold their boat (along with the resident cat, essential for good luck at sea),

Nooooo!

“I can’t name the poison that’s killing your friend. But the one that’s killing you is called hope.”

“Nonsense. You’ll feel right at home. What is government but theft by consent? You’ll be moving in a society of kindred spirits.”

“You thought I got collared for real because I threw up wrong?”

“Endure for another day, Master Tannen, and you’ll have all the foul black misuse of water you can drink.”

“My fighting spirit’s back in residence,” said Locke. “I’ve been stuck in bed for weeks. Turn me loose with a list of laws you want broken.”

“Nobody admires anyone else without qualification. If they do they’re after an image, not a person.”

“The gentleman requests the favor of a personal engagement, tomorrow evening?” “At the lady’s pleasure, before the dancing and iced wine, immediately following the grand sweep beneath the wagon for stray horseshit.” “I may consent.” “Then life is worth living.”

“If I’m right,” said Locke, “you won’t need to. If I’m wrong, I grant you full license to indulge in an ‘I told you so’ when I’m conscious again, with an option for a ‘you stupid bastard’ if you choose.”

Hypocrisy and caution are such affectionate cousins.”

But in the morning, we expect that you’ll be sober, and focused, and working furiously on our behalf.

Not sure how you expect him to focus after that.

“Diplomacy and curiosity don’t always mix,” he said. “We’re not strangers, Jean.”

*Sabetha? Jean is speaking