Sidheag Quotes & Sayings

Saw your nicely strung-up slab of bacon." "Don't insult bacon," said Sidheag. — Gail Carriger

The redhead whispered, "No, what's a man like down there?" "Oh." Sidheag wrinkled her nose. "Unimpressive. They have" - she gestured toward her own nether regions with one hand - "a sort of dangly sausage - lacks tailoring." Sophronia blinked in surprise. That sounded worse than Sidheag's description of a werewolf shift. — Gail Carriger

As Dimity said, Sidheag surely does grumpy old man very well for a sixteen-year-old girl. — Gail Carriger

Funambulist.' said Sophronia Temminnick, quite suddenly.
'Sophronia, such language!' Dimity Plumleigh-Teignmott reprimanded.
'Pardon?' said Agatha Woosmoss.
Sidheag Maccon, the final member of Sophronia's group, muttered, 'Bless you.'
'I wasn't sneezing, nor being indelicate, thank you all very much. I was thinking out loud.'
'As if thinking out loud weren't *decidedly* indelicate.' Dimity was not to be swayed out of disapproval when she felt it might exercise her creativity. — Gail Carriger

I had no idea what I was doing and I faked it and it worked — Dave Grohl

No, what's a man like down there?"
"Oh." Sidheag wrinkled her nose. "Unimpressive. They have - "she gestured towards her own nether regions with one hand - "a sort of dangly sausage - lacks tailoring."
"Really?"
"Yes, like it wasn't fitted into its casing properly. And hairy. — Gail Carriger

Oh." Sidheag wrinkled her nose. "Unimpressive. They have" - she gestured toward her own nether regions with one hand - "a sort of dangly sausage - lacks tailoring. — Gail Carriger

Sidheag, you think like a predator.' The Lady of Kingair glowed in pleasure. 'Thank you very much, Sophronia. What a nice thing to say. — Gail Carriger

The essence of the problem is about consumption, recognizing that a society that consumes one-third of the world's resources is unsustainable. This level of consumption requires constant intervention into other people's lands. That's what's going on. — Winona LaDuke

Each day we have to decide to choose to have an awesome life. We are responsible for our own fate and cannot blame circumstances for our failures. It is in our own best interest to make choices that are going to create the life we desire and be accountable for our failure to make such good choices. Today is a present so do not squander your time looking into the past. Life is about the journey so press ahead by always looking forward to the next opportunity to succeed. — Don A. Holbrook

Very good, Monique. Perfect as always. Next time, Sidheag, smaller handkerchief. A lady carries embroidered muslin, not-what on earth is that? A square of tweed? Really, girl! Dimity, watch your balance, and red? Dear, not read. You're not ready for red. Red is only for the advanced deployment of handkerchiefs. — Gail Carriger

Dimity said, "I wrote him poetry!"
( ... ) "Dimity," Sophronia said, horrified by such an admission, "you didn't give him the poetry, did you?"
"Certainly not."
Sidheag tilted back in her chair, grinning. "Well, let's hear it."
"Oh, no. I don't think that's a good idea at all."
But Dimity was already dipping into her reticule and pulling out a scrap of paper. She gave it to Sidheag, who read it with a perfectly straight face, her tawny eyes dancing, and then passed it Sophronia.
"My love is like a red red rose
Occasionally he has a red red nose
He could keep me warm in the snows
I wager he has very nice toes."
Sophronia could think of nothing to say except, "Oh, Dimity. — Gail Carriger

To laugh is to live profoundly ... The sound of laughter is like the vaulted dome of a temple of happiness, that delectable trance of happiness, that ultimate peak of delight. Laughter of delight, delight of laughter ... it is an expression of being rejoicing at being ... — Milan Kundera

Sidheag could be quite crass, the result of having been raised by men, or Scots, or soldiers, or werewolves, or all four. — Gail Carriger

All our best men are laughed at in this nightmare land. — Jack Kerouac

Her life was cold as a garret whose dormer window looks on the north, and ennui, the silent spider, was weaving its web in the darkness in every corner of her heart. — Gustave Flaubert

Albert aimed his flashlight down into the hole.
Gold,' Albert Said
Quinn was a little surprised by Albert's er of fact tone.
he'd half expected a Gollum like, My precioussss or something. — Michael Grant