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Patrick O'Brian Quotes | Quotes said by Patrick O'Brian

  • Patrick O'Brian Quote #1

    [Babbington] What did [the Doctor, Stephen] do to you, sir?

    [Captain Aubrey] Well, I am ashamed to say he took a pistol-ball out of the small of my back. It must have been when I turned to hail for more hands- thank God I did not. At the time I thought it was one of those vile horses that were capering about abaft the wheel.

    Oh, sir, surely a horse would never have fired off a pistol?


  • Patrick O'Brian Quote #2

    «Hai il dono di comparire proprio quando la mia mente è piena del tuo nome e perfino della tua immagine. Ma, Stephen, mio caro, sei così pallido e magro! Ti danno da mangiare? Sei stato malato? Sei in licenza, senza dubbio. Devi fermarti qui per molto tempo, il colonnello ti rimpinzerà di salmone, di anguille affumicate e di trote, tornerà prima di cena. Mio Dio, sono così felice di vederti, mio caro! Vieni ora, riposati, sembri distrutto. Vieni a coricarti nel mio letto.»
    «Devo venire nel tuo letto?»
    «Ma certo che devi venire nel mio letto: e non devi lasciarlo più. Stephen, non devi tornare sul mare mai più»

  • Patrick O'Brian Quote #3

    «I matrimoni degli altri sono una perpetua fonte di perplessità», commentò Stephen.

  • Patrick O'Brian Quote #4

    «Questo liquido è tecnicamente una minestra» continuò Jack, dopo aver tolto il coperchio. «Posso scodellartene un mestolo?»
    «È piacevole vedere resti di piselli così antichi e consunti che perfino i vermi non li hanno voluti e sono morti al loro fianco, così che ora abbiamo per nutrimento preda e predatore; è ancora più piacevole vedere l'infame mistura servita in questa splendente zuppiera, testimonianza della gratitudine di mercanti delle Indie Occidentali.»
    «Abbiamo cercato di vendere l'intero servizio, ma gli argentieri hanno storto il naso. Ora ne sono contentissimo: per quanto poveri, nessuno lo è più di un marinaio su una nave senza provviste, ma una crosta la si gusta meglio in un bel piatto d'argento.»

  • Patrick O'Brian Quote #5

    A foolish German had said that man thought in words. It was totally false; a pernicious doctrine; the thoughts flashed into being in a hundred simultaneous forms, with a thousand associations, and the speaking mind selected one, forming it grossly into the inadequate symbols of words, inadequate because common to disparate situations - admitted to be inadequate for vast regions of expression, since for them there were the parallel languages of music and painting. Words were not called for in many or indeed most forms of thought: Mozart certainly thought in terms of music. He himself at this moment was thinking in terms of scent.

  • Patrick O'Brian Quote #6

    But the tale or narrative set in the past may have its particular time-free value; and the candid reader will not misunderstand me, will not suppose that I intend any preposterous comparison, when I observe that Homer was farther removed in time from Troy than I am from the Napoleonic wars; yet he spoke to the Greeks for 2,000 years and more.

  • Patrick O'Brian Quote #7

    But you know as well as I, patriotism is a word; and one that generally comes to mean either my country, right or wrong, which is infamous, or my country is always right, which is imbecile.

  • Patrick O'Brian Quote #8

    He that would make a pun would pick a pocket.

  • Patrick O'Brian Quote #9

    I sew his ears on from time to time, sure.

  • Patrick O'Brian Quote #10

    Injustice is a rule of the service, as you know very well; and since you have to have a good deal of undeserved abuse, you might just as well have it from your friends.

  • Patrick O'Brian Quote #11

    Jack prese la lettera, borbottò uno «scusami» e si ritirò. Tornò poco dopo, più alto, più dritto nella persona, il volto raggiante. «Signore Iddio, Stephen, è la lettera più bella che io abbia mai ricevuto. Grazie, grazie tante!»
    Afferrò la mano di Stephen, fissandolo con infinita benevolenza. «È scritta benissimo anche, una mano così delicata!» Si guardò intorno in uno stato di frastornata felicità, poi estrasse il violino dalla custodia, il violino rimasto a lungo in ozio, e si lanciò in un virtuosismo straordinario, interrotto dal fischietto del nostromo quando il comandante Fanshawe fu accolto a bordo.

  • Patrick O'Brian Quote #12

    Jack, you've debauched my sloth.

  • Patrick O'Brian Quote #13

    Mr Mowett,' called Stephen in the pause while the table was clearing to make room for the pudding, and pudding-wine—in this case Frontignan and Canary—was handing about, 'you were telling me about your publishers.'

    'Yes, sir: I was about to say that they were the most hellish procrastinators—'

    'Oh how dreadful,' cried Fanny. 'Do they go to—to special houses, or do they ...'

    'He means they delay,' said Babbington.

    'Oh.

  • Patrick O'Brian Quote #14

    Of course I do know it is the French who are so wicked; but there are all these people who keep coming and going - the Austrians, the Spaniards, the Russians. Pray, are the Russians good now? It would be very shocking - treason no doubt - to put the wrong people in my prayers.

  • Patrick O'Brian Quote #15

    Oh, as far as unsexing is concerned, who are we to throw stones? With us any girl that cannot find a husband is unsexed. If she is very high or very low she may go her own way, with the risks entailed therein, but otherwise she must either have no sex or he disgraced. She burns, and she is ridiculed for burning. To say nothing of male tyranny—a wife or a daughter being a mere chattel in most codes of law or custom—and brute force—to say nothing to that, hundreds of thousands of girls are in effect unsexed every generation: and barren women are as much despised as eunuchs. I do assure you, Martin, that if I were a woman I should march out with a flaming torch and a sword; I should emasculate right and left. As for the women of the pahi, I am astonished at their moderation.

  • Patrick O'Brian Quote #16

    Patriotism is a word; and one that generally comes to mean either my country, right or wrong, which is infamous, or my country is always right, which is imbecile.

  • Patrick O'Brian Quote #17

    Pochi uccelli Stephen preferiva ai succiacapre, ma non era stato il loro canto a farlo scendere dal letto. Rimase fermo, appoggiato alla ringhiera, e poco dopo Jack Aubrey, in un padiglione presso il campo di bocce, ricominciò a suonare con grande dolcezza nel buio, improvvisando solo per sé, fantasticando sul suo violino con una maestria che Stephen non aveva mai conosciuto in lui, sebbene avessero suonato insieme per tanti anni.[...] In effetti suonava meglio di Stephen, e ora che stava usando il suo prezioso Guarnieri invece del robusto strumento adatto al mare, la differenza era ancora più marcata: ma il Guarnieri non bastava a spiegarla del tutto, assolutamente no. Quando suonavano insieme, Jack nascondeva la propria eccellenza, mantenendosi al mediocre livello di Stephen [...]; mentre rifletteva su questo, Maturin si rese conto a un tratto che era sempre stato così: Jack, indipendentemente dalle condizioni di Stephen, detestava mettersi in mostra. Ma in quel momento, in quella notte tiepida, ora che non vi era nessuno da sostenere moralmente, cui dare il proprio appoggio, nessuno che potesse criticare il suo virtuosismo, Jack poteva lasciarsi andare completamente; e mentre la musica grave e delicata continuava a diffondersi, Stephen si stupì una volta di più dell'apparente contraddizione tra il grande e grosso ufficiale di marina, florido e allegro [...] e la musica pensosa, complessa che quello stesso uomo stava ora creando. Una musica che contrastava immensamente con il suo limitato vocabolario, un vocabolario che lo rendeva talvolta quasi incapace di esprimersi.

  • Patrick O'Brian Quote #18

    Sir,’ said Stephen, ‘I read novels with the utmost pertinacity. I look upon them--I look upon good novels--as a very valuable part of literature, conveying more exact and finely-distinguished knowledge of the human heart and mind than almost any other, with greater breadth and depth and fewer constraints.

  • Patrick O'Brian Quote #19

    Stephen had been put to sleep in his usual room, far from children and noise, away in that corner of the house which looked down to the orchard and the bowling-green, and in spite of his long absence it was so familiar to him that when he woke at about three he made his way to the window almost as quickly as if dawn had already broken, opened it and walked out onto the balcony. The moon had set: there was barely a star to be seen. The still air was delightfully fresh with falling dew, and a late nightingale, in an indifferent voice, was uttering a routine jug-jug far down in Jack's plantations; closer at hand and more agreeable by far, nightjars churred in the orchard, two of them, or perhaps three, the sound rising and falling, intertwining so that the source could not be made out for sure. There were few birds that he preferred to nightjars, but it was not they that had brought him out of bed: he stood leaning on the balcony rail and presently Jack Aubrey, in a summer-house by the bowling-green, began again, playing very gently in the darkness, improvising wholly for himself, dreaming away on his violin with a mastery that Stephen had never heard equalled, though they had played together for years and years.

    Like many other sailors Jack Aubrey had long dreamed of lying in his warm bed all night long; yet although he could now do so with a clear conscience he often rose at unChristian hours, particularly if he were moved by strong emotion, and crept from his bedroom in a watch-coat, to walk about the house or into the stables or to pace the bowling-green. Sometimes he took his fiddle with him. He was in fact a better player than Stephen, and now that he was using his precious Guarnieri rather than a robust sea-going fiddle the difference was still more evident: but the Guarnieri did not account for the whole of it, nor anything like. Jack certainly concealed his excellence when they were playing together, keeping to Stephen's mediocre level: this had become perfectly clear when Stephen's hands were at last recovered from the thumb-screws and other implements applied by French counter-intelligence officers in Minorca; but on reflexion Stephen thought it had been the case much earlier, since quite apart from his delicacy at that period, Jack hated showing away.

    Now, in the warm night, there was no one to be comforted, kept in countenance, no one could scorn him for virtuosity, and he could let himself go entirely; and as the grave and subtle music wound on and on, Stephen once more contemplated on the apparent contradiction between the big, cheerful, florid sea-officer whom most people liked on sight but who would have never been described as subtle or capable of subtlety by any one of them (except perhaps his surviving opponents in battle) and the intricate, reflective music he was now creating. So utterly unlike his limited vocabulary in words, at times verging upon the inarticulate.

    'My hands have now regained the moderate ability they possessed before I was captured,' observed Maturin, 'but his have gone on to a point I never thought he could reach: his hands and his mind. I am amazed. In his own way he is the secret man of the world.

  • Patrick O'Brian Quote #20

    Stephen had spared no expense in making himself more unhappy, his own position as a rejected lover clearer.

  • Patrick O'Brian Quote #21

    Stephen nodded. 'Tell me,' he said, in a low voice, some moments later. 'Were I under naval discipline, could that fellow have me whipped?'He nodded towards Mr Marshall.
    'The master?' cried Jack, with inexpressible amazement.
    'Yes,' said Stephen looking attentively at him, with his head slightly inclined to the left.
    'But he is the master...' said Jack. If Stephen had called the sophies stem her stern, or her truck her keel, he would have understood the situation directly; but that Stephen should confuse the chain of command, the relative status of a captain and a master, of a commissioned officer and a warrant officer, so subverted the natural order, so undermined the sempiternal universe, that for a moment his mind could hardly encompass it. Yet Jack, though no great scholar, no judge of a hexameter, was tolerably quick, and after gasping no more than twice he said, 'My dear sir, I beleive you have been lead astray by the words master and master and commander- illogical terms, I must confess. The first is subordinate to the second. You must allow me to explain our naval ranks some time. But in any case you will never be flogged- no, no; you shall not be flogged,' he added, gazing with pure affection, and with something like awe, at so magnificent a prodigy, at an ignorance so very far beyond anything that even his wide-ranging mind had yet conceived.

  • Patrick O'Brian Quote #22

    The author says that when an angry impulse is not immediately expressed, it turns to melancholy.

  • Patrick O'Brian Quote #23

    The Navy speaks in symbols and you may suit what meaning you choose to the words.

  • Patrick O'Brian Quote #24

    The newly-minted captain admits the irony between the gold on his shoulders and the lack of gold in his pockets.

  • Patrick O'Brian Quote #25

    The newly-minted captain is told to let nothing stop him but to do nothing that would risk his ship or his crew.

  • Patrick O'Brian Quote #26

    The weather had freshened almost to coldness, for the wind was coming more easterly, from the chilly currents between Tristan and the Cape; the sloth was amazed by the change; it shunned the deck and spent its time below. Jack was in his cabin, pricking the chart with less satisfaction than he could have wished: progress, slow, serious trouble with the mainmast-- unaccountable headwinds by night-- and sipping a glass of grog; Stephen was in the mizentop, teaching Bonden to write and scanning the sea for his first albatross. The sloth sneezed, and looking up, Jack caught its gaze fixed upon him; its inverted face had an expression of anxiety and concern. 'Try a piece of this, old cock,' he said, dipping his cake in the grog and proffering the sop. 'It might put a little heart into you.' The sloth sighed, closed its eyes, but gently absorbed the piece, and sighed again.

    Some minutes later he felt a touch upon his knee: the sloth had silently climbed down and it was standing there, its beady eyes looking up into his face, bright with expectation. More cake, more grog: growing confidence and esteem. After this, as soon as the drum had beat the retreat, the sloth would meet him, hurrying toward the door on its uneven legs: it was given its own bowl, and it would grip it with its claws, lowering its round face into it and pursing its lips to drink (its tongue was too short to lap). Sometimes it went to sleep in this position, bowed over the emptiness.

    'In this bucket,' said Stephen, walking into the cabin, 'in this small half-bucket, now, I have the population of Dublin, London, and Paris combined: these animalculae-- what is the matter with the sloth?' It was curled on Jack's knee, breathing heavily: its bowl and Jack's glass stood empty on the table. Stephen picked it up, peered into its affable bleary face, shook it, and hung it upon its rope. It seized hold with one fore and one hind foot, letting the others dangle limp, and went to sleep.

    Stephen looked sharply round, saw the decanter, smelt to the sloth, and cried, 'Jack, you have debauched my sloth.

  • Patrick O'Brian Quote #27

    They played, not beautifully but deep, ignoring their often discordant strings and striking right into the heart of the music they knew best, the true notes acting as their milestones. On the poop above their heads, where the weary helmsmen tended the new steering-oar and Babbington stood at the con, the men listened intently; it was the first sound of human life that they had heard, apart from the brief Christmas merriment, for a time they could scarcely measure.

  • Patrick O'Brian Quote #28

    Valuable and ingenious he might be, thought Jack, fixing him with his glass, but false he was too, and perjured. He had voluntarily sworn to have no truck with vampires, and here, attached to his bosom, spread over it and enfolded by one arm, was a greenish hairy thing, like a mat - a loathsome great vampire of the most poisonous kind, no doubt. ‘I should never have believed it of him: his sacred oath in the morning watch and now he stuffs the ship with vampires; and God knows what is in that bag. No doubt he was tempted, but surely he might blush for his fall?’

    No blush; nothing but a look of idiot delight as he came slowly up the side, hampered by his burden and comforting it in Portuguese as he came.

    ‘I am happy to see that you were so successful, Dr Maturin,’ he said, looking down into the launch and the canoes, loaded with glowing heaps of oranges and shaddocks, red meat, iguanas, bananas, greenstuff. ‘But I am afraid no vampires can be allowed on board.’

    ‘This is a sloth,’ said Stephen, smiling at him. ‘A three-toed sloth, the most affectionate, discriminating sloth you can imagine!’ The sloth turned its round head, fixed its eyes on Jack, uttered a despairing wail, and buried its face again in Stephen’s shoulder, tightening its grip to the strangling-point.

  • Patrick O'Brian Quote #29

    Virtue should always be colmingled with humor.

  • Patrick O'Brian Quote #30

    What's wrong with (Captain) Jack Aubrey?
    Everything, since he has a command and I have not.

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