The Art of a Lie Quotes

“Ladies flee from the sight of his sword."
"I am quite sure he wouldn't want you advertising that fact.”
― Laura Shepherd-Robinson, The Art of a Lie

“Argue the contrary and—as clever men are wont to do when a woman states her case—he’d start to look for all the ways that I might be wrong.”
― Laura Shepherd-Robinson, The Art of a Lie: A Novel

“Many popular eighteenth-century iced cream flavors are familiar to modern palates--- pistachio, chocolate, strawberry, etc. Yet Georgian confectioners were great innovators and experimented with iced creams flavored with everything from Parmesan to artichoke, molding their confections into the shape of candles, lobsters, pineapples, and all manner of other conceits. Often iced creams were eaten in carriages drawn up outside of confectionery shops, enabling men and women to mingle freely in public, in a way that was otherwise prohibited. Ice cream, it seems, was a feminist enterprise! Books that give a good overview of Georgian ice cream and confectionary include Of Sugar and Snow: A History of Ice Cream Making by Jeri Quinzio (University of California Press, 2009); Sugar-plums and Sherbet: The Prehistory of Sweets by Laura Mason (Prospect Books, 1998); and Sweets: A History of Temptation by Tim Richardson (Bantam Books, 2002).”
― Laura Shepherd-Robinson, The Art of a Lie

“As I could have predicted, Lord Richard asked for a fluted glass of chocolat de crème, which I now served alongside a ball of chocolate iced cream flavored with a grain of ambergris and two grains of cinnamon. A rich and decadent choice for a rich and decadent man.”
― Laura Shepherd-Robinson, The Art of a Lie

“If I were you, sir, I'd keep to honest work from now on. You don't want to end up like my poor husband.”
― Laura Shepherd-Robinson, The Art of a Lie

“The ball of iced cream was nestled in a crystal dish. A pale orange in hue, it was studded with bright green pistachio kernels and glistening slivers of lemon peel. The flavors mingled in my mouth, sweet orange, sharp lemon, and the earthy bitterness of the nuts. Better than anything my mother had made. I forced it down.
We were in Hannah's kitchen. She smiled at the look of rapture on my face. "I tried beating it periodically while it was freezing. It has greatly improved the texture. I am trying out other ideas too."
How innovative she was. I smiled at her fondly. The queue had been out the door when I'd arrived, and iced cream was the demand upon everyone's lips. Hannah had three flavors on sale now: peach, raspberry, and the one I'd just tried, which she had named "Royal Ice.”
― Laura Shepherd-Robinson, The Art of a Lie

“You have neglected to unlock the hidden heat within your liquid."
I frowned, confused. "But the cream is cold. There is no heat."
Becker smiled. "All liquids contain a latent heat concealed within themselves. Even when they feel cold, they are secretly hot. You must withdraw that fire by means of the frigorific method."
I didn't even attempt to repeat the word. "It all sounds rather complicated."
"On the contrary," Becker said. "It is simplicity itself. What you require, my dear lady, is salt.”
― Laura Shepherd-Robinson, The Art of a Lie

“His pleasure of choice, whenever he came into the Punchbowl and Pineapple, was a large nugget of Holland candy, the crystallized sugar containing glittering fragments of angelica, pistachio, ginger, and chocolate--- treasures to be mined from their sweet bedrock by a determined tongue. It is a confection for a man who takes a child's delight in the world, and I envied Twiselton his optimism about human nature, even as I scorned it.”
― Laura Shepherd-Robinson, The Art of a Lie

“Despite all my other anxieties, as I set about the recipe--- grinding sugar, boiling it to a syrup, then clarifying it with egg white to draw off the impurities--- I tasted a sweet edge of hope. My customers often proved resistant to change, and yet this frozen delicacy promised innovation married to the familiar. After all, what could be more English than peaches and cream? I knew instinctively that it would prove more popular than Persian sherbet, and more suited to this weather than apricot tarts.”
― Laura Shepherd-Robinson, The Art of a Lie

“Nine times out of ten, when a customer walks into the Punchbowl and Pineapple, I can guess what will tempt them. It is the confectioner's principal art, anticipating wants and needs--- and people betray their desires in countless small ways. For a young lady taut with nerves, dressed to make a house call, I suggest a pretty basket of French macaroons to impress her friends. For a young buck in the first flush of love, seeking a gift for his mistress, I propose a petits puits d'amour (the name and oval shape might make him smile, though I act oblivious to any indelicate connotations). For an older gentleman--- picture one crimson from hunting and port--- a rich plum cake spiced with cinnamon and mace. For a widow in mittens, a box of scented violet wafers--- or if she is bent with the rheumatism, bergamot chips. For a little boy with a cough, I prescribe a guimauve: a soft cake of honey whipped with the sap of the marsh mallow plant. And for his governess, a sweet syllabub, to be eaten at one of my tables, while she ponders how life's misfortunes brought her here.”
― Laura Shepherd-Robinson, The Art of a Lie