Bespoke Quotes

“Tailor Made will help Ferrari's clients tailor their cars in a very personal, specific way. It's a bespoke service, like visiting Huntsman or Anderson & Sheppard or whoever your favourite Savile Row tailor is.”

“I passed under an arch out of that region of slabs and columns, and wandered through the open country; sometimes following the visible road, but sometimes leaving it curiously to tread across meadows where only occasional ruins bespoke the ancient presence of a forgotten road.”

“So what does that actually mean?''To be honest, Ghastly, I haven't a bull's notion.''Elder Bespoke should be addressed by his full title,' Tipstaff said.'Of course,' Skulduggery said. 'To be honest, Your Highness, I haven't a bull's notion.”

“But the helmet had gold decoration, and the bespoke armorers had made a new gleaming breastplate with useless gold ornamentation on it. Sam Vimes felt like a class traitor every time he wore it. He hated being thought of as one of those people that wore stupid ornamental armor. It was gilt by association.”

“I thought that some of the hymns bespoke the true religion of the place. The people didn't really want to be saints of self-deprivation and hatred of the world. They knew that the world would sooner or later deprive them of all it had given them, but still they liked it. What they came together for was to acknowledge, just by coming, their losses and failures and sorrows, their need for comfort, their faith always needing to be greater, their wish (in spite of all words and acts to the contrary) to love one another and to forgive and be forgiven, their need for one another's help and company and divine gifts, their hope (and experience) of love surpassing death, their gratitude.”

“The Cold Within"Six humans trapped in happenstanceIn dark and bitter cold, Each one possessed a stick of wood, Or so the story's told.The first woman held hers backFor of the faces around the fire,She noticed one was black.The next man looking across the waySaw not one of his church,And couldn't bring himself to giveThe fire his stick of birch.The third one sat in tattered clothesHe gave his coat a hitch,Why should his log be put to use,To warm the idle rich?The rich man just sat back and thoughtOf the wealth he had in store,And how to keep what he had earned,From the lazy, shiftless poor.The black man's face bespoke revengeAs the fire passed from sight,For all he saw in his stick of woodWas a chance to spite the white.The last man of this forlorn groupDid naught except for gain,Giving only to those who gave,Was how he played the game.The logs held tight in death's still handsWas proof of human sin,They didn't die from the cold without,They died from the cold within.”

“Actually, this is a poem my father once showed me, a long time ago. It has been bastardized many times, in many ways, but this is the original:The Cold Within Six men trapped by happenstance,in bleak and bitter coldEach possessed a stick of wood,or so the story's told. Their dying fire in need of logs,the first man held his back For of the faces round the fire,he noticed one was black. One man looking cross the way, saw one not of his churchAnd could not bring himself to givethe fire his stick of birch. The third one sat in tattered clothes,he gave his coat a hitchWhy should his log be put to useto warm the idle rich?The rich man just sat back and thoughtof the wealth he had in store And how to keep what he had earnedfrom the lazy, shiftless poor.The black man's face bespoke revengeas the fire passed from his sight,For all he saw in his stick of woodwas a chance to spite the white.And the last man of this forlorn groupdid naught except for gain,Giving only to those who gave,was how he played the gameThe logs held tight, in death's stillhands,was proof of human sinThey didn't die from the cold without,they died from the cold within.”

“Grand Mage,” Ghastly said, as he put the map away, “did you know the sparrow flies south for the winter?”“What an odd thing to say,” Ravel said, and as he turned, he snapped his palm against the air and Paloma slammed into the wall.”…..“What do you know,” Ravel said, breathing a little faster, “Skulduggery’s silly little code actually works.”“Grand Mage,” Ghastly said, as he put the map away, “did you know the sparrow flies south for the winter?”“What an odd thing to say,” Ravel said, and as he turned, he snapped his palm against the air and Paloma slammed into the wall.”…..“What do you know,” Ravel said, breathing a little faster, “Skulduggery’s silly little code actually works.”