Read through the most famous quotes by topic #thomas
Do you think I should be paying my addresses to Mrs. Martin, my dear Miss Fitzhugh?” he whispered. “Martin doesn’t look the sort to have enough stamina to service two women. And goodness knows you could probably exhaust Casanova himself.” Again this insinuation that she must be a sufferer of nymphomania. Behind her fan, she put her lips very close to his ear. “You’ve no idea, my Lord Hastings, the heated yearnings that singe me at night, when I cannot have a man. My skin burns to be touched, my lips kissed, and my entire body passionately fondled.” Hastings was mute, for once. He stared at her with something halfway between amusement and arousal. She snapped shut her fan and rapped his fingers as hard as she could, watching with great satisfaction as he choked back a yelp of pain. “By anyone but you,” she said, and turned on her heels. ↗
The explanation for her absence had been staring him in the face all the while, but he hadn’t wanted to acknowledge it: The affair meant nothing to her. He’d been the only one bewitched body and soul. For her, he’d been but a temporary source of entertainment, a way to pass the otherwise tedious hours in the middle of an ocean. He’d been the one to press for a continuation of their affair beyond the voyage. He’d been the one to offer his heart, his hand, his every last secret. She never even gave her real name. And, of course, never showed her face. ↗
Even they would think you a monster were you to orchestrate a divorce right after my confinement.” “How long do you recommend I wait, then?” “A long time. I know what happens when a divorce is granted: The woman never gets anything. And I will not be parted from my child.” “So you will contest the divorce?” “To my last penny. And then I’ll borrow from Fitz and Millie.” “So we’ll be married ’til the end of time?” “The sooner you accept it, the sooner we are all better off.” His ancestors would have appreciated her hauteur: a fit wife for a de Montfort. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I must have enough rest.” He gazed at her retreating back. Foolish woman, did she not realize that he’d already accepted it from the moment he’d said “I do”? ↗
Minho was the first one to speak since the food had come. “Maybe we should just give in to those shuckfaces. Do what they want. One day we’ll all sit around, fat and happy.” Thomas knew he didn’t mean a word of it. “Yeah, maybe you can find a nice pretty girl who works here, settle down, get married and have kids. Just in time for the world to end in a sea of lunatics.” Minho kept at it. “WICKED’s going to figure out this blueprint business and we’ll all live happily ever after. ↗
We make no saint of Thomas Jefferson—we leave the mindless business of canonization and the worship of humans to the fanatics—but aware as we are of his many crimes and contradictions we say with confidence that his memory and example will endure long after the moral pygmies who try to blot out his name have been forgotten. ↗
I realized then what had happened. She had turned us--all of us, except for Mouse--into great, gaunt, long-legged hounds. Wonderful!" Lea said, pirouetting upon one toe, laughing. "Come, children!" And she leapt off into the jungle, nimble and swift as a doe. A bunch of us dogs stood around for a moment, just sort of staring at one another. And Mouse said, in what sounded to me like perfectly understandable English, "That bitch. ↗
Pansy," Murphy sneered. Thomas leered at her. "You make my stamen tingle when you talk like that, Sergeant. ↗
