Scott Lynch
Scott Lynch
Scott Lynch is an American fantasy author, best known for his Gentleman Bastard series of novels. He resides in Western Wisconsin in the city of New Richmond. According to his website, he had a variety of jobs including dishwasher, busboy, waiter, web designer, office manager, prep cook, and freelance writer. His first novel, The Lies of Locke Lamora, was purchased by Orion Books in August 2004 and published in June 2006 under the Gollancz imprint in the United Kingdom and...
ProfessionNovelist
Date of Birth2 April 1978
mean player games
When you can't cheat the game, you'd best find a means to cheat the players.
glasses flames feet
In the glass burrow beneath their feet, the flames began to rise. First the flames, and then the screams
dragons fifty vaults
Worst of all, the inner vault is guarded by a live dragon, attended by fifty naked women armed with poisoned spears, each of them sworn to die in Requin's service. All redheads. -You're just making that up, Jean.
drowning ends suspects
I suspect this is all gonna end in screaming and drowning
mother taken bullshit
There are only three people in life you can never fool--pawnbrokers, whores, and your mother. Since your mother's dead, I've taken her place. Hence, I'm bullshit-proof.
years play giving
Advice,' Doña Vorchenza 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.
moving cat eye
Mew," the kitten retorted, locking gazes with him. It had the expression common to all kittens, that of a tyrant in the becoming. 'I was comfortable, and you dared to move,' those jade eyes said. 'For that you must die.' When it became apparent to the cat that its two or three pounds of mass were insufficient to break Locke's neck with one mighty snap, it put its paws on his shoulders and began sharing its drool-covered nose with his lips. He recoiled.
cousin littles impossible
Difficult" and "impossible" are cousins often mistaken for one another, with very little in common." (Locke Lamora to Requin)
beats shows
I don't have to beat you. I don't have to beat you, motherfucker. I just have to keep you here... until Jean shows up.
peace children night
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.
bugs said robbers
So that makes us robbers of robbers," said Bug, "who pretend to be robbers working for a robber of other robbers.
crazy glasses ten
You're ten pints of crazy in a one-pint glass.
brain credit sawdust
You're one third bad intentions,one third pure avarice,and one eighth sawdust.What's left,I'll credit,must be brains.
enlightenment bricks
Enlightenment! When it comes, it comes like a brick to the head, doesn't it?