5. "Anna gave Charles a shy kiss on the cheek and strolled out of the room without a backward glance. Until she reached the doorway, and then, in full view of the curious who'd had the courage or discourtesy to linger in the auditorium after he'd dismissed them, she kissed her palm and blew it to him. And despite... or because of their audience, he caught it in one hand, and pulled the hand to his heart. Her smile dropped away, and the expression in her eyes would feed him for a week. And the expressions on the faces of the wolves who knew Charles, or knew his reputation, would make him laugh as soon as no one was watching."
- Patricia Briggs, Hunting Ground
6. " greeting my friends, and he nodded to Discourtesy and Ugliness and Unfilial Conduct and Unkempt Fingernails. Then he started with Vanity again. The Gray One shouldered up in front. It was too late to stall with baby sins. This Gray One was Murder."
- John Steinbeck, East of Eden
7. "While — say — the butcher serves a lady who is shopping for five days for her family of fourteen, you must not take advantage of a momentary pause (as you would in France) to butt in and ask if he has any calf’s liver — not because you want to be served out of turn, of course, just to find out whether it is worth waiting. You will get no reply. This is not discourtesy: it is simply due to the fact that you do not exist. You may not be aware of this; you may live in the mistaken belief that you do exist, but you do not. Before your turn comes you are less than a dog. A dog would be noticed and urged to leave the shop. But you definitely do not exist before your turn comes, you are a non-person, you are thin air, a nonentity, a body non-incarnate, waiting to be materialised when the butcher turns his smiling attention to you."
- George Mikes, How To Be A Brit
8. "Don’t you want to know why I’m here? Emma made herself meet his eyes. No, she said. I do not. He chuckled, unmoved, as always, by her discourtesy. We’re going on a picnic Saturday, he announced. Emma had had all she could take of Steven Fairfax’s audacity. She glared at him, her cheeks throbbing. I hardly think that will be possible. You see, I’ve agreed to attend a party with Fulton on Saturday evening. Steven sighed. So you’re still seeing the banker, huh? Honestly, Emma snapped, amazed, you are insufferable. And I’m not going on any picnic with you, now or ever! The silk crumpled between her clenched fingers, and she nearly stuck herself with the needle. Perhaps I have finally made myself clear? He smiled. I do comprehend what you’re trying to say, Miss Emma. I just disagree with you, that’s all. Emma hurled down the bodice of the dress she’d been sewing and bolted out of her chair. What on earth gives you the idea that it matters, whether you and I agree or not? His eyes glittered"
- Linda Lael Miller, Emma And The Outlaw