“Also, it was a bit hopeless," he said. "A bit defeatist.""If by defeatist you mean honest, then I agree.""I don't think defeatism is honest, " Dad answered. "I refuse to accept that.”

“Honestly, Clary, if you don't start utilizing a bit of your natural feminine superiority I just don't know what I'll do with you.”

“What did you work at?” Colum asked, shifting a bit on the bench to look more directly at me.“I was in service,” I said quietly, more quietly than I intended. I wondered if maybe the answer had gotten lost in the rumble of the engines. It didn’t.“Honest work,” Colum said. I knew that that was what people say about work they consider beneath them. Hauling and scrubbing and digging are “honest work.” Grubbing and mucking? “Honest work.” Tell someone you’re a doctor or a mill owner, and they never say “honest work.”

“I don't mean to be rude' I said, 'but what are you people?''We're peculiar,' he replied, sounding a bit puzzled. 'Aren't you?;'I don't know. I don't think so''That's a shame.”

“He..." Richard began. "The marquis. Well, you know, to be honest, he seems a little bit dodgy to me."Door stopped. The steps dead-ended in a rough brick wall. "Mm," she agreed. "He's a little bit dodgy in the same way that rats are a little bit covered in fur.”

“The only thing between you and success is your thinking. Defeatist thoughts are the mother of inaction.”