Glokta Quotes

“Hurray', shouted Glokta. 'Porridge again!'He looked over at the motionless Practical. 'Porridge and honey, better than money, everything's funny, with porridge and honey!”
― Joe Abercrombie, The Blade Itself

“Body found floating by the docks...”
― Joe Abercrombie, The Blade Itself

“I will confess!" shrieked Teufel, "I will confess!"
"Excellent," said Glokta brightly.
"Excellent," said Severard.
"Etherer," said Practical Frost.”
― Joe Abercrombie, The Blade Itself

“You are aware, I suppose, that I lived through two years of torture? Two years in hell, so I can stand before you now. Or lean before you, twisted as an old tree root. A crippled, shambling, wretched mockery of a man, eh, Lord Hoff? Let us be honest with one another. Sometimes I lose control of my own leg. My own eyes. My own face." He snorted. "If you can call it a face. My bowels, too, are rebellious. I often wake up daubed in my own shit. I find myself in constant pain, and the memories of everything that I have lost nag at me, endlessly." He felt his left eye twitching. Let it twitch. "So you can see how, despite my constant efforts to be a man of sunny temper, I find that I despise the world, and everything in it, and myself most of all. A regrettable state of affairs, for which there is no remedy.”
― Joe Abercrombie, Last Argument of Kings

“Bang! The end of his little finger, now, and three more pieces of the rest. His middle finger was down to the knuckle, almost. Severard stared, his eyes with with horror, his breath coming short, fast gasps. Shock, amazement, stunned terror. Glokta leaned down to his ear. 'I hope you weren't planning to take up the violin, Severard. You'll be lucky if you can play a fucking gong by the time we're done here.”
― Joe Abercrombie, Last Argument of Kings

“Why?’ she hissed. Why indeed? ‘I give you orders,’ he barked, ‘not fucking reasons!”
― Joe Abercrombie, Before They Are Hanged

“What’s your name?’

She planted one elbow on the stretch of counter Zuri had wiped so she could lean closer and draw out both syllables. ‘Savine.’

‘That’s a lovely name.’

‘Oh, if you enjoy the tip, you’ll go mad for the whole thing.’

‘That so?’ he purred at her. ‘How does it go?’

‘Savine… dan…’ And she leaned even closer to deliver the punchline. ‘Glokta.’

If a name had been a knife and she had cut his throat with hers, the blood could not have drained more quickly from his face. He gave a strangled cough, took a step back and nearly fell over one of his own barrels.”
― Joe Abercrombie, A Little Hatred