Facts are the soil from which the story grows. Imagination is a last resort. — Dorothy Dunnett Copy Share Image
“Haven't I been worth five years' excellent gossip to you? Are you not all waiting agog to see me seize my sister-in-law by the… — Dorothy Dunnett Copy Share Image
“Standing safely on the opposite bank with her dry maid, her dry escort, and a company of streaming horsemen, Philippa said scathingly, ‘That’s men… — Dorothy Dunnett Copy Share Image
“It wasna a man,’ said Andrew Kerr broadly. ‘T’was my aunty. I tellt ye. I’m no risking cauld steel in ma wame for a… — Dorothy Dunnett Copy Share Image
“I don't like this war. I don't like the cold-blooded scheming at the beginning and the carnage at the end and the grumbling and… — Dorothy Dunnett Copy Share Image
“It is not easy for Brehons to decide concerning bees that have taken up their lodging in the trees of a noble dignitary; with… — Dorothy Dunnett Copy Share Image
“Go away and bleed to death,’ said his onetime saviour sharply. ‘On behalf of the female sex I feel I may cheer every lesion.” — Dorothy Dunnett Copy Share Image
Lack of genius never held anyone back. Only time wasted on resentment and daydreaming can do that. — Dorothy Dunnett Copy Share Image
“What do you hope for that you haven’t got? What can that child give you?’ There was a little silence. ‘A virgin audience for… — Dorothy Dunnett Copy Share Image
Did I ever tell you,’ said Lymond pausing on the afterthought, on his way to the flap, ‘that that aunt of mine once hatched… — Dorothy Dunnett Copy Share Image
“Which reminds me -' 'The new ladies have arrived,' said Adam grimly. 'Guaranteed of clean stock, and inured to Russian practices. Osep has announced… — Dorothy Dunnett Copy Share Image
