A boy may be as disagreeable as he pleases, but when a girl refuses to crap sunshine on command, the world mutters darkly about her moods.

— Scott Lynch

Advice," Doña Vicenza chuckled. "Advice. The years play a sort of alchemical trick, transmuting one's mutterings to a state of respectability. Give advice at forty and you're a nag. Give it at seventy and you're a sage.

— Scott Lynch

A glass poured to air for the one who sits with us unseen; the patron and protector, the Crooked Warden, the Father of Necessary Pretexts. Thanks for deep pockets poorly guarded. Thanks for watchmen asleep at their posts. Thanks for the city to nurture us and the night to hide us. Thanks for friends to help us spend the loot.

— Scott Lynch

Am I making myself clear, Orin? I don't regret how I've lived these past few years. I move where I will. Furthermore, I set no appointments. Furthermore, I guard no borders. What land bound king has the freedom of a ship's captain? The Sea of Brass provides. When I need haste, it gives me winds. When I need gold, it gives me galleons." Thieves prosper, thought Locke. The rich remember. He made his decision, and gripped the rail to avoid shaking." Only gods-damned fools die for lines drawn on maps," said Zamora. "But nobody can draw lines around my ship. If they try, all I need to do to slip away is set more sail.

— Scott Lynch

A troupe learns to play like we all learn to screw, stumbling and jostling until everything's finally in the right place.

— Scott Lynch

Calais led them over to a large covered basket that sat on the stones near the docked dinghy. He undid the cover, reached in and removed a live kitten. "- Hello, you monstrous little necessity". "- Mrrrrwwwwww", said the monstrous little necessity.

— Scott Lynch

Can you imagine those poor bastards grappling their prey, leaping over the rails, swords in hand, screaming 'Your cats! Give us all your god-damned cats!

— Scott Lynch

Crooked Warden, I will fear no darkness for the night is yours," muttered Locke, pointing the first two fingers of his left hand into the darkness. The Dagger of the Thirteenth, a thief's gesture against evil. "Your night is my cloak, my shield, my escape from those who hunt to feed the noose. I will fear no evil, for you have made the night my friend."" Bless the Benefactor," said Jean, squeezing Locke's left forearm. "Peace and profit to his children.

— Scott Lynch

Crooked Warden, I will fear no darkness for the night is yours. Your night is my cloak, my shield, my escape from those who hunt to feed the noose. I will fear no evil, for you have made the night my friend.

— Scott Lynch

Didn't Chains tell you about the Golden Theological Principle?"" The what?"" The single congruent aspect of every known religion. The one shared, universal assumption about the human condition."" What is it?"" He said that life boils down to standing in line to get shit dropped on your head. Everyone's got a place in the queue, you can't get out of it, and just when you start to congratulate yourself on surviving your dose of shit, you discover that line is actually circular.

— Scott Lynch