Daily Inspiration Quote by Tom Holt

“Predators” is doing the heavy lifting here: it doesn’t accuse lawyers of being merely annoying, or even merely mercenary. It casts them as apex hunters, creatures built to stalk, wait, and strike. Holt’s joke lands because it flips the profession’s self-myth. Lawyers are supposed to be guardians of order, translators between ordinary life and the law’s arcane machinery. “Predators” suggests the opposite: they don’t just operate within the system, they feed on it.

The “grey worsted” is the perfect costume detail. Worsted is conservative suit fabric, durable and bland, the uniform of boardrooms and courtrooms. Grey reads as respectability without warmth: an institutional neutrality that feels like camouflage. Put together, the line implies a modern kind of menace, not the cinematic villain in black, but the person who can ruin your week while looking like a mid-level manager. The threat is procedural, polite, plausibly deniable.

As a novelist with a satirical streak, Holt aims less at a literal claim than at a cultural reflex: the public suspicion that legal expertise is power asymmetry wearing a tie. The subtext is anxiety about complexity itself. In a world where paperwork can decide custody, housing, immigration status, or whether you keep your business, the predator isn’t the one with claws; it’s the one who knows which form you forgot to file. The joke stings because it feels true in the way bureaucracy often does: quietly, officially, and after the fact.