“I can't wait to have words with the Gray King when this shit is all finished," Locke whispered. "There's a few things I want to ask him. Philosophical questions. Like, 'How does it feel to be dangled out a window by a rope tied around your balls, motherfucker?”

“I cut off his fingers to get him to talk, and when he'd confessed everything I wanted to hear, I had his fucking tongue cut out, and the stump cauterized."Everyone in the room stared at him."I called him an asshole, too," said Locke. "He didn't like that.”

“Papa's in a bad way, Locke. I wanted to see you before you saw him - he has some...things he wishes to discuss with you. I want you to know that whatever he asks, I don't want you...for my sake...well, please, just agree. Please him, do you understand?""No garrista who loves life has ever tried to do otherwise. You think I'm inclined to walk in on a day like today and deliberately twist his breeches? If your father says 'bark like a dog' I say 'What breed, Your Honour?”

“Someday, Locke Lamora,” he said, “someday, you’re going to fuck up so magnificently, so ambitiously, so overwhelmingly that the sky will light up and the moons will spin and the gods themselves will shit comets with glee. And I just hope I’m still around to see it.”“Oh please,” said Locke. “It’ll never happen.”

“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.”

“Just one question, you arrogant fucking cocksucker" said Locke. "I'll grant the Lamora part is easy to spot; the truth is, I didn't know about the apt translation when I took the name. I borrowed it from this old sausage dealer who was kind to me once, back in Catchfire before the plague. I just liked the way it sounded."But what the fuck" he said slowly, "ever gave you the idea that Locke was the first name I was actually born with?”

“That's a sweet piece," said Jean, briefly forgetting to be aggravated. "You didn't snatch that off a street.""No," said Locke, before taking another deep draught of the warm water in the decanter. "I got it from the neck of the governor's mistress.""You can't be serious.""In the governor's manor.""Of all the -" "In the governor's bed.""Damned lunatic!""With the governor sleeping next to her."The night quiet was broken by the high, distant trill of a whistle, the traditional swarming noise of city watches everywhere. Several other whistles joined in a few moments later."It is possible," said Locke with a sheepish grin, "that I have been slightly too bold.”