The Hallmarked Man (Cormoran Strike, #8)

by Robert Galbraith

‘Proper man’ was a Polworth-ism with many connotations. To be a proper man meant to be a strong man, an outdoors man, but also a man of principle. It meant lack of bombast, a repudiation of shallowness and a core of quiet self-belief. It meant being slow to anger, but firm in conviction.

She’d refrained, though. She didn’t want an argument.

It is the great misfortune of the coward that he sees danger everywhere, and of the snob that he perpetually underestimates those he considers his inferiors.

whose temper was increasing rather than diminishing as she vented it; she hadn’t realised how much anger she had stored up (because she was the easy child, the placator, the one primed not to make a fuss, amid three rambunctious brothers).

‘I’m not still in that bloody stairwell,’ said Robin, her voice becoming louder, ‘but you make me feel like I never left it, the way you treat me!’

Something that was worse than anxiety pierced her.

‘That men perennially underestimate how many of their fellow men are perverts and predators. You know what they say: “all women know a rape victim, no man knows a rapist”.’

‘It’s less painful to talk about it than to think about it, all day, every day,’

‘I think they’re going to love each other for ever and never be able to do anything about it.’