The Lies of Locke Lamora (Gentleman Bastard #1)

by Scott Lynch

every seam and wrinkle on his face seemed to be steadily sliding towards the ground, as though he’d been shaped by a slightly drunk god who’d pressed the mortal clay just a little too far down.

Age has a way of exaggerating the physical traits of those who live to feel its strains; the round tend to grow rounder and the slim tend to waste away.

It was strange how readily authority could be conjured from nothing but a bit of strutting jackassery.

‘you are plucking at strings of conscience that will yield no sound;