Suicidal glory is the luxury of the irresponsible.
Wikipedia is so dangerous. You go online to look up the definition of eclampsia, and three hours later you find yourself reading this earnest explanation of tentacle porn in [Japanese] anime.
History does not so much repeat as echo, I suppose.
If you're trying to take a roomful of people by surprise, it's a lot easier to hit your targets if you don't yell going through the door.
From fried witchetty grubs to gold-plated turnips, when you're a writer you never know what's going to appear on your plate next. It keeps a woman alert, it does.
A true Vor, Miles told himself severely, does not bury his face in his liegewoman's breasts and cry--even if he is at a convenient height for it.
I am not schizoid. A little manic-depressive, maybe." "'Know thyself.'" "We try, sir.
There are always survivors at a massacre. Among the victors, if nowhere else.
Your father calls you to his court. You need not pack. You go garbed in glorious raiment. He waits eagerly by his palace doors to welcome you, and has prepared a place at the high table, by his side, in the company of the great-souled, honored, and best-beloved.
How could you be a Great Man if history brought you no Great Events, or brought you to them at the wrong time, too young, too old?
Most people go through their whole lives without killing anybody. False argument.
Ignorance is not stupidity, but it might as well be. And I do not like feeling stupid.
One foot in front of the other, wasn't that the grownup way of solving problems? Surely he ought to be a grownup at his age.
Utterly bleak and black is not the sum of realism. All the other colors are real, too.
Miles is... Miles; close to a force of nature, climbing up out of his own pages and escaping subordination to any opinion of mine.
Women do desperately need models for power other than the maternal.
When you can’t do something truly useful, you tend to vent the pent up energy in something useless but available, like snappy dressing.
I spent my 20s working in patient care at a large university hospital, an experience that has informed all my work and has given me a lot of human observation to draw on.
I think 99 percent of women's lib comes from technology making different kinds of lives possible, and then the social adjustment follows the technology - it doesn't precede it.
Hi, I'm a hero, but I can't tell you why. It's classified.
Exile, for no other motive than ease, would be the last defeat, with no seed of future victory in it.
I've described my usual writing process as scrambling from peak to peak on inspiration through foggy valleys of despised logic. Inspiration is better when you can get it.
I am increasingly convinced that technological culture is the entire root of women's liberation.
I've always tried to write the kind of book I most loved to read: character-centered adventure.
His outflung hands traced over the threads of his rug, passed loop by loop through some patient woman's hands. Or maybe she hadn't been patient. Maybe she'd been tired, or irritated, or distracted, or hungry, or angry. Maybe she had been dying. But her hands had kept moving, all the same.
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