The Secret Hours Quotes

“Nobody told you what a drag it was, getting older. Or at least, people did tell you, but you ignored them, because they were old.”
― Mick Herron, The Secret Hours

“First Desk enjoyed coincidences the way she liked happy endings: outside of fiction, they were as trustworthy as a Tinder Profile.”
― Mick Herron, The Secret Hours

“If you own the platforms on which people conduct their business, you effectively own that business. And if you own the platforms on which those same people pursue their leisure interests, you effectively own their lives.”
― Mick Herron, The Secret Hours

“They prefer to be called gay. Queer . . . Queer’s a horrible term.” “Well, it’s what the ones I know call themselves. But tell you what. I’ll introduce you to a few, you can explain to them what they like to be called.”
― Mick Herron, The Secret Hours

“And you can shut your damn mouth too."
"Now now. Casual profanity’s the sign of a small fucking mind.”
― Mick Herron, The Secret Hours

“...she passed a bar and was so grateful for the strength of mind that prevented her walking in and ordering a drink that she stopped at the next one to celebrate.”
― Mick Herron, The Secret Hours

“It was certainly true that she never did anything straight that she could do sideways.”
― Mick Herron, The Secret Hours

“while the PM was capable of following through with a course of action provided the gratification was immediate and overwhelming, anything involving patience was less likely to reach fruition.”
― Mick Herron, The Secret Hours

“the committee as a whole wasn’t exactly composed of free thinkers. One or two were capable of independent thought, but when the whip came down, none would throw themselves in front of a foregone conclusion.”
― Mick Herron, The Secret Hours

“Unheard objections were like unacknowledged offspring: If no one knows about them, could they really be said to exist?”
― Mick Herron, The Secret Hours

“But then Miles was an agent of chaos, intentionally or not, and wherever he hung his hat, plaster was likely to fall.”
― Mick Herron, The Secret Hours

“When the past meets the present the present always wins, but the victories are fleeting, mere technical knock-outs. The present wins every battle, but the past always wins the war.”
― Mick Herron, The Secret Hours

“He said they ‘compartmentalised.’ That’s something you do so love won’t run into duty.”
― Mick Herron, The Secret Hours

“The country’s in agreement we’re in a handcart, heading for the traditional destination.”
― Mick Herron, The Secret Hours

“You know, the sad thing is, I could probably get to like you if you were here long enough. And I don’t really like anybody.” “I thought you liked Otis.” “Otis is my friend. There’s a difference.” “I’m glad we don’t live in the same world.”
― Mick Herron, The Secret Hours

“Well, we are all diminished by our wrong choices,”
― Mick Herron, The Secret Hours

“I had my way, they’d have a department all to themselves. Keep ’em off the streets.”
― Mick Herron, The Secret Hours

“Being blown up feels like an ending, but for everyone else things carry on happening. They'd have talked about it for weeks, for months. Remembered it for years. But sooner or later their own concerns would have taken over. There comes a point when working out whether you've enough milk to see you through the weekend matters more than that somebody you once knew lost both legs to a bomb.”
― Mick Herron, The Secret Hours

“...all he wanted was someone to follow Miles, collecting evidence of his bad behavior, like those people you saw in parks trotting after dogs with little plastic bags in hand. Which actually was a good idea, and should be compulsory, but not where Miles was concerned. He should be made to deal with his own shit.”
― Mick Herron, The Secret Hours

“Come on. You can buy me breakfast."
"I've already had breakfast."
"So have I. What's that got to do with it?”
― Mick Herron, The Secret Hours

“I had a leather jacket once," he said. "Made me look like Van Morrison."
"Well, that’s not so – "
"Now. Like Van Morrison looks like now."
"Oh. I’m sorry.”
― Mick Herron, The Secret Hours

“and carrying a blue umbrella, stepped on a loose paving stone while crossing Bishops-gate and drenched her left trouser leg in dirty water. If she were the type to swear she might have let rip, and wouldn’t have been alone—the city was full of angry pedestrians, hooted at by angry drivers and sworn at by angry cyclists, while angry buses trundled past full of angry passengers, and the angry sky rained angry rain, and the angry morning would never end. But she kept any fury to herself. Her mind now throbbing with extra tasks—when to get to the dry cleaners, and what to wear on the alternate days of the week she’d earmarked these trousers for”
― Mick Herron, The Secret Hours

“it”
― Mick Herron, The Secret Hours

“She’d long been aware, for example, that those who’ve garnered more power than wiser minds would have allotted them tend to think themselves above the reach of law.”
― Mick Herron, The Secret Hours

“London rules again. We’re all in it together might’ve been the public mantra, but everyone knew that you never took a ride in a hot air balloon without knowing who you'd throw overboard first.”
― Mick Herron, The Secret Hours

“He stared for a long while, his face partially wreathed in the smoke his cigarette was sighing. And then, quietly but unmistakably, he farted.”
― Mick Herron, The Secret Hours

“Nobody told you what a drag it was, getting older. Or at least, people did tell you, but you ignored them, because they were old. “Even”
― Mick Herron, The Secret Hours

“He paused at the fridge, wondering about cheese.”
― Mick Herron, The Secret Hours

“One day he would be beyond all this; the overcalculation of the everyday. He would just live his life without wondering what mask he should be wearing. But he didn’t know how to make that come about.”
― Mick Herron, The Secret Hours

“That’s what the parties are about. They’re celebrating the freedom won when the Wall came down, but because all they’re doing is celebrating, the freedom never takes off.”
― Mick Herron, The Secret Hours