c2p-cmd/Good-Quotes-Authors huggingface dataset:
What an optimistic animal man is!" said Rumfoord rosily. "Imagine expecting the species to last for ten million more years - as though people were as well-developed as turtles!" He shrugged. "Well - who knows - maybe human beings will last that long, just on the basis of pure cussedness. What's your guess?
— Kurt Vonnegut Jr., The Sirens of Titan
Um. Ways in which a sentence beginning with the word "missiles" could be a good thing... Nope. I got nuthin'.
— Dennis E. Taylor, We Are Legion (We Are Bob)
But Time Lords always travel in the T – in their Spectrels, don't they?""Only if absolutely necessary.""You what?""It's another myth put about by those scoundrels. Dramatic effect and all that. It's all his fault.""What do you mean?""Who's fault.""No, I asked you first.""No, you clot. It's Who's fault – Dr bloody Who. That's who!""Why?""No, not Why. I said it's Who's fault.""Whose fault?""Yes. Who.""What?""No! Listen, damn you. Don't bring Why or What into it. It's nothing to do with them. It's Who's fault.""That's what I'm trying to establish, Doctor. Whose fault is it?""Yes. It's Who's fault; now, can we just bloody get on with it and stop arguing the toss and bringing the others into it?
— Mark Speed, Doctor How and the Illegal Aliens
We earth men have a talent for ruining big, beautiful things.” – The Martian Chronicles by Ray Bradbury (1950)
— Ray Bradbury
And for those of us from communities with historic collective trauma, we must understand that each of us is already science fiction walking around on two legs. Our ancestors dreamed us up and then bent reality to create us.
— Walidah Imarisha, Octavia's Brood: Science Fiction Stories from Social Justice Movements
You said these guys are your cousins? Is that, like, for real? It's, like, not a turn of phrase?""What on earth do you mean?""Well, I refer to my bluds as cuz, sometimes. Is it like that, or is they real blood relatives?""Yes, four of them are cousins. One of them is my twin brother. I'm sure you can guess who.""Who?""Yes.""No, who?""Exactly." The Doctor's gaze was in some far-off place, his voice low and monotone. "He was always the troublesome one. He instigated the rift, cemented the separation. Blabbed to the Beeb. I can never forgive him for that. Never.
— Mark Speed, Doctor How and the Illegal Aliens
- I didn't seduce her! OK, I didn't know exactly what I was doing. It seemed like fun and then... well, THAT happened. - said Ronnie. - It wasn't intentional. I did it for shits and giggles, alright? We never had sex. She was mortified at the thought of losing her job, but I told her that I wouldn't tell anyone.	- Well... you just did. - said Tyler.	- You two aren't just "anyone". That's the difference. - said Ronnie and resumed his task... until his ears caught a disturbing row of cries for help.	- What kind of language is that? - Tyler asked.	- It's... Hindi. Urdu, to be specific. - Ronnie answered.	- How the fuck do you know? - Tyler asked.	- Just found it out. - answered Ronnie.	- Well, where does that lead us? - asked Tyler once again.	- Pakistan. - said Garret.	- We're not going there saving Muslims from the clutches of radical Islam and fighting for human rights, are we? - said Tyler.	- No, obviously. But if their lives are in danger, we'll help. Not because some non-governmental organisation is obsessed with political correctness and equal rights, but because they don't deserve to die just because some delusional maniac decided to play God with their fate. - said Ronnie.
— Momchil Yoskov, The Immortal Trinity: Inheritance
Daniel, I was asked of a budding author, how do you know if your story is on track? My answer: I start by knowing my intention, my target. Then, with purpose, I write the scene that unfolds before me, as faithfully as is human. - Daniel LaMonte
— Daniel LaMonte
Reading wasn't an attempt to educate myself. It was my chief escape from a world that, although gorgeous in landscape and rich with mountain culture, didn't provide what I needed—the promise of adventure, a life beyond the perimeter of hills. I often fantasized that I'd been adopted and had mysterious powers such as flying or teleportation. Books offered the promise of a world in which misfits like me could flourish. Within the pages of a novel, I was unafraid: of my father, of dogs, snakes, and the bully across the creek; of older boys who drove hot rods close enough to make me jump in the ditch; of armed men parked near the bootlegger.
— Chris Offutt, My Father, the Pornographer: A Memoir
Oh, "Tanstaafl." Means "There ain't no such thing as a free lunch." And isn't,' I added, pointing to a FREE LUNCH sign across room, 'or these drinks would cost half as much. Was reminding her that anything free costs twice as much in long run or turns out worthless.
— Robert A. Heinlein, The Moon is a Harsh Mistress
A group of giant insectoid creatures floated to the area near the stage. One of them spoke in a series of clicks that the language master knew instantly."Play hard and fast hairless monkeys!"Greeg shouted, "We're Transmitted Infections from the inner-worlds and this is punk fucking rock!"Crash hit a crunching , distorted guitar note. the Slugs spit in happiness at the sound of the guitar. Greeg liked a species with a love for badass music. He was sure this would be a great show.
— David Agranoff, Amazing Punk Stories
science fiction is not about the future but about the possibilities inherent in the present.
— Judith B. Kerman
Glacier blue plasma rippled and sparked across the interior of the portal. “It seems keeping secrets is what you do.”“Secrets are merely the necessary means. Survival is the end goal. Survival of ourselves, survival of species who do not deserve to be eradicated from the universe. Survival of the universe itself.”“Survival’s noble and all, but what good is it without the freedom to live as you choose?”“A question you have the luxury to ask because you survive.
— G.S. Jennsen, Rubicon
Originally it had had two settings: Stun and Kill. These had proved inadequate against the ridiculously well-armored skin of monsters from particularly rough planets, so I'd found a way to tinker with the built-in limitations. The dial now had a third setting, labeled with the handwritten words 'Solve All Immediate Problems.
— Yahtzee Croshaw, Will Save the Galaxy for Food
You're like a plant. Very pure... so opposite from me that it surprises me. Maybe I can stay pure if I don't have to deal with people.
— Kakeru Yuiga
As a mistress, death seemed lacking in many essentials. Therefore, I decided not to die.
— Edgar Rice Burroughs
When you become big enough to wear this, they'll come for you. You'll probably be 17. It will be spring. Get on the ship. There, your ability will be needed. Then you'll be... free from solitude.
— Shirō Yuiga
Is happiness found in the nest where there's no hardship? Or is it in the outer world with vast sky? When the time comes, what would you keep and what would you abandon?
— Norn9 norn+nonet
But it must be inconvenient to not be able to remember your name. I'll give you my last name, if you want.
— Kakeru Yuiga
The World is an organization that was created for peacekeeping and management of this land. Its origin and science easily exceeds the civilization on the surface. This ship was provided to us by the World, and we're responsible for its operations.
— Masamune Toya
We, the people with special powers use our abilities for peace. That's the mission that was given to us by the World.
— Mikoto Kuga
Masume works hard and he's very thoughtful. He likes hardships, so he's very useful.
— Kakeru Yuiga
Worry? That's a strange thing to say. There's no way anyone would be worried about me. Besides, we're all gonna be enemies eventually.
— Senri Ichinose
When you healed this tree, I felt like the leaves waved and made gentle sounds. Maybe the tree was saying thank you.
— Korharu
He didn’t want to talk about London’s wreck, and so he steered the conversation back towards Professor Pennyroyal’s favourite subject: Professor Pennyroyal.
— Tom Reeves
If you don't understand, I'll stay with you until you do.
— Kakeru Yuiga
But the power in this case is real indeed. You doubt the mystery and power of these aircraft and their markings? They are aeons old and yet they still operate!” 	“You’ve seen them fly? Where do they go? I am wondering if there is a city we can reach.” 	“Before you woke from your coffin, they flew indeed. Turning and turning in the widening gyre. What does that suggest?” 	“Um. Some rough beast is slouching toward Bethlehem waiting to be born, maybe?” 	“No doubt the spirit of prophecy escapes your lips! It must be prophecy because I cannot grok what you are saying.” 	“Sorry. Won’t happen again. It suggests a search pattern.
— John C. Wright, The Judge of Ages
That’s very trusting.” Iris watches Anke search our backpacks.“We’re saving people’s lives. We thought we could be,”Anke says. I’m more fixated on her arm in my backpack than on what she’s saying, though. That bag is nearly empty, but it’s mine. She’s messing it up. Her hands might not even be clean.When she does stop, I immediately wish she hadn’t. “Denise,” she says, “I need to search your bed next.”My gaze flicks to my pillow. “I. I. Could I.”“She doesn’t like people touching her bed.” Iris stands, guarding me.“You’re touching it,” Captain Van Zand’s brother says.Iris shoots him a withering look. “I sat at the foot, which is the only place that’s OK for even me to touch, and I’m her sister.”Anke’s sigh sounds closer to a hiss. “Look, we have more rooms to search.”I squirm. No. Not squirm. I’m rocking. Back and forth. “Wait,” I say.“You can’t—” Iris goes on.“Just ’cause she’s too precious to—” the man argues.“Wait,” I repeat, softer this time, so soft that I’m not even sure Iris hears it. “Can I, can I just, wait. I can lift the sheets and mattress myself. You can look. Right? Is that good? Right? Is that good? If I lift them?” I force my jaw shut.No one says anything for several moments. I can’t tell if Anke is thinking of a counterargument or if she really is trying to make this work. Her lips tighten. “OK. If you listen to my instructions exactly.”“You’re indulging her?” Captain Van Zand’s brother says. “She’s just being difficult. Have you ever seen an autistic kid? Trust me, they’re not the kind to take water scooters into the city like she did.”“Denise, just get it done,” Anke snaps.I don’t stand until they’re far enough away from the bed, as if they might jump at me and touch the bed themselves regardless. I blink away tears. It’s dumb, I know that—I’m treating Anke’s hands like some kind of nuclear hazard—but this is my space, mine, and too little is left that’s mine as is. I can’t even face Iris. With the way she tried to help, it feels as though I’m betraying her by offering this solution myself.I keep my head low and follow Anke’s orders one-handed. Take off both the satin and regular pillowcases, show her the pillow, shake it (although I tell her she can feel the pillow herself: that’s OK, since the pillowcases will cover it again anyway)—lift the sheets, shake them, lift the mattress long enough for her to shine her light underneath, let her feel the mattress (which is OK, too, since she’s just touching it from the bottom) . . .They tell us to stay in our room for another hour.I wash my hands, straighten the sheets, wash my hands again, and wrap the pillow in its cases.“That was a good solution,” Iris says.“Sorry,” I mutter.“For what?”Being difficult. Not letting her help me. I keep my eyes on the sheets as I make the bed and let out a small laugh.
— Corinne Duyvis, On the Edge of Gone
She unwinds her scarf, taking so long about it that I wonder if she expects me to respond. “You were following the rules,” I offer after a minute. It makes her words no more pleasant. Resentment. Was that how she’d looked at me? Then how am I supposed to trust how she looks at me now?My words elicit a thankful smile. “Mostly, though, I knew you could do the job. Did you ever know other autistic people?”I shake my head. I’d heard rumors about one teacher, but never asked him. Mom had encouraged me to find a local support group, but I’d never seen the appeal—or the need. It wouldn’t change anything. I had friends, anyway. Peopleonline, my fellow volunteers at the Way Station. I even got along with Iris’s friends.“Well, I did, and I feel like a fool for never recognizing your autism. I had autistic colleagues at the university. They were accommodated, and they thrived. One researcher came in earlier than everyone else and would stay the longest. I saw the same strengths in you once I knew to look for them. You’re punctual, you’re precise, you’re trustworthy. When you don’t know something, you either figure it out or you ask, and either way, you get it right. I wanted to give you the same chance my colleagues had, and that other Nassau passengers got. One of the doctors is autistic—did you know?” Els silences an incoming call. “Does that answer your question?
— Corinne Duyvis
I mean: if you’re going outside to look for your sister, I get it.” Max goes silent. Maybe Mirjam’s death is hitting him now, maybe his voice will choke—but he goes on. “But if you’re going outside to help your mother . . .” He gestures helplessly at my injured arm. His fingers stop a centimeter away, hovering in midair. “Don’t risk it. Don’t risk you.”“She’s my mother.”“The captain will never let her on if she doesn’t even try. Not when there are so many people who haven’t had thechance to try. People we can use on the ship. People who have been on that waiting list forever.”There are a dozen things I want to say. But she’s mymother—as though that means as much as people pretend it does.She is trying, just in a different way—as though I’m convincing myself.I wasn’t on that waiting list, either.I might not be someone the ship can use, as much as I’m trying to be.
— Corinne Duyvis, On the Edge of Gone
He stood over her for a time, simply looking at her as he willed himself to climb into bed, and he knew doing so would make it utterly impossible to hate her. She looked so innocent and vulnerable as she dreamt, and it was difficult to hate someone once you had seen them sleeping.
— Ash Gray, The Suns of Anarchy
The t'ca [ship] left them, rolled and slewed off in a maneuver that made sense to a multi-brained snake.--from The Kif Strike Back
— CJ Cherryh
When the emergency brappers went of they did what any dedicated, well-trained and quick-minded Service personnel would do; they paniced.From the short story What Makes Us Human.
— Stephen R. Donaldson, Reave the Just and Other Tales
Compulsion: noun, mass noun; an ability possessed by certain Que Cum Virtute Judicium (Virts) to force someone to do something or create an irresistible urge to behave in a certain way
— Alex Lane
I realized that the job of a hero is not to save the galaxy, or rescue princesses, or slay all the dragons. That may be part of it, but in the end, a hero only has one job, and that’s to make himself unnecessary.
— Yahtzee Croshaw
Still, even when false, legends can be most informative.
— Timothy Zahn, Star Wars - Thrawn
The monsters don't live in the belly of the world like they all say. The monsters live inside of us. We make the monsters.
— Kameron Hurley, The Stars Are Legion
There is nothing I fear more than someone without memory. A person without memory is free to do anything she likes.
— Kameron Hurley, The Stars Are Legion
After all, Ignatius of Loyola, a soldier who had killed and whored and made a thorough mess of his soul, said you could judge prayer worthwhile simply if you could act more decently, think more clearly afterward. As D.W. once told him, “Son, sometimes it’s enough just to act less like a shithead.
— Mary Doria Russell, The Sparrow
In my own life many bad things was done to me, and that is how I know that when it happens sometimes you think something is wrong with you. Whoever did those things to you? It's them it's wrong with. It's not your fault.
— Carola Dibbell, The Only Ones
I have spent my life battling monsters. It was only in realizing that I was the monster, and choosing to destroy her, that I could save the world.
— Kameron Hurley, The Stars Are Legion
The secret to leadership is not to be a particularly intelligent person. It is to surround oneself with those far smarter than oneself. And try not to kill them.
— Kameron Hurley, The Stars Are Legion
War makes monsters of us all. But what happens to those of us who no longer wish to be monsters?
— Kameron Hurley, The Stars Are Legion
I'm not trying to be mean,' Casamir says.'Intent doesn't always matter.
— Kameron Hurley, The Stars Are Legion
(Of the main character seeing a new world for the first time.) The air was cold but not bitterly so, and it seemed a bit rough at the back of his throat. He gazed about him, and the very intensity of his desire to take in the new world at a glance defeated itself. He saw nothing but colours - colours that refused to form themselves into things. Moreover, he knew nothing yet well enough to see it: you cannot see things till you know roughly what they are. His first impression was of a bright, pale world - a watercolour world out of a child's paint-box, a moment later he recognised the flat belt of light blue as a sheet of water, or of something like water, which came nearly to his feet. They were on the shore of a lake or river.
— C.S. Lewis, Out of the Silent Planet
All I am, and all I love, is war. I don't know who I will be if I stop. The world, if it is to survive, needs a leader, not a warmonger. The world I want to make does not require me
— Kameron Hurley, The Stars Are Legion
Varzo looked with shame at her boots. “Look, I wasn’t serious, alright? It was just a thought.”Mercy shook her head. “Shitty thoughts become shitty actions, kid. You really gone your entire life without recognizing there's ah link between the two?
— Ash Gray, The Harvest
Zita shrugged. “I wouldn’t hold it against ya, kid. You’re asking if you should choose war or love. Hate is easy, everybody does it. But most people go their entire lives without really loving. Miora’s gonna tell you that you can’t love her because she’s zonbiri, but if it’s really love . . . you won’t be able to help yourself.” Zita smiled and went out.
— Ash Gray, The Harvest
Quinn dropped her hand and avoided Thalcu’s eye. “I . . . I don’t want to kill you,” she said to the floor. “Not if I could save you.”The woman smiled gently at Quinn, her lips curling behind her oxygen mask. “I will not really die,” she said, drawing Quinn’s surprised gaze. She looked at Quinn contently a moment and went on, “Do you know how worlds are born? From the first breath of a star. We are made of starlight. We can not bear to look into the sun, into the thing that birthed us, anymore than we can bear to look upon our parents in the throes of passion. It is our point of origin, and to it, we all must return.
— Ash Gray, The Harvest
Yeah!” Quinn said defiantly. “And I’m about to destroy your sick little plan here! And when I’m done doing that, I’ll tell the humans how your people are planning to betray them --!”“As if that will make much difference,” said the general calmly. “Humans can’t agree on how to run individual countries, let alone their entire planet. When the harvest begins, they won’t stand a chance against us. I’ve already given Dr. Zorgone permission to execute his plans for abduction. He has also been given strict orders to return you to me alive. Both of you. You must simply walk outside. There is nothing to fear.”“Yeah, I bet,” Quinn muttered sarcastically.
— Ash Gray, The Harvest
Let you alone! That's all very well, but how can I leave myself alone ? We need not to be let alone. We need to be really bothered once in a while. How long is it since you were really bothered? About something important, about something real?
— Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451
Varzo shrugged. “My people have given them good reason to be biased. The last time you were open and trusting . . . we invaded,” she said unhappily. “Yeah,” muttered the boy just as unhappily. “But while there is good reason for caution, there is never a good reason for hatred, hmm?” He glanced at Varzo and lifted his brows meaningfully.
— Ash Gray, The Harvest
He slept that night the sleep of a successfully stubborn man.
— Isaac Asimov, Foundation and Empire
Drop. Your weapon. And. Come quietly,” said a robotic voice. “Kiss. My ass,” said Zita, mocking the robot’s tone.
— Ash Gray, Project Mothership
She loved him the way one loves an old bridge or a wool sweater or the sound of a growing tulip.
— Joseph Fink, Welcome to Night Vale
No amount of standing on hilltops on dark nights and surveying the heavens could prepare a man for the actuality of space travel, because the earthbound observer saw only the the stars, not what separated them. They glittered in his vision, filling his eyes, and he had no choice but to assign them a position of importance in the cosmic scheme. The space traveler saw things differently. He was made aware that the universe consisted of emptiness, that the suns and nebulae were almost an irrelevancy, that the stars were nothing more than a whiff of gas diffusing into infinity. And sooner or later that knowledge began to hurt.
— Bob Shaw, Ship Of Strangers
Sixty years ago the idea of everyone having a telephone in their pockets was science fiction. Our whole way of life is science fiction, if you look at it from the past.
— Sam Hawksmoor, The Repossession
No power in the 'verse can stop me!
— River Tam from Firefly
The machines of this place are failing, and the woman and I are here all alone. The perpetual motion engine, as brilliant and beautiful as it is, is running down—nothing lasts forever. But before this little world falls out of the sky there still might be time enough for redemption. There is still time for me to say the words that I should have had the courage to say at the beginning.There is still time, perhaps, for one more miracle.Hello, Miranda.
— Dexter Palmer, The Dream of Perpetual Motion
Hopis have lived in America longer than anyone. We wanted to explore the concept of Earthly visitation through the eyes of people who have also witnessed the rapid evolution of modern culture. For us, their beliefs ring true on so many levels. Hopi prophecy speaks to the destiny of man...in a universe where we are not alone.
— T.J. Wolf, A GLEAM OF LIGHT
Soon our culture's oldest dreams will be made real. Even the thought of sending a kind of flying craft to the moon is no longer nothing more than a child's fantasy. At this moment in the cities below us, the first mechanical men are being constructed that will have the capability to pilot the ship on its maiden voyage. But no one has asked if this dream we've had for so long will lose its value once it's realized. What will happen when those mechanical men step out of their ship and onto the surface of this moon, which has served humanity for thousands of years as our principal icon of love and madness? When they touch their hands to the ground and perform their relentless analyses and find no measurable miracles, but a dead gray world of rocks and dust? When they discover that it was the strength of millions of boyhood daydreams that kept the moon aloft, and that without them that murdered world will fall, spiraling slowly down and crashing into the open sea?
— Dexter Palmer, The Dream of Perpetual Motion
She is mad, and I am sane. To speak to her, even the first word, would be an acknowledgement and an acceptance of her madness, and from there I would have no choice but to follow her down the hole until both of us would be here alone in this ship among the clouds, endlessly circling the earth, our needs carefully ministered to by mechanical men, howling ourselves hoarse and counting off the ticks of the clock before the moon falls out of the sky.
— Dexter Palmer, The Dream of Perpetual Motion
My people have known of your people for thousands of years,” went on the alien, looking at me with those black eyes that glittered like the night sky. “We have watched you and studied you and never did we attempt contact. Why? Because we would be treated with the same hatred and violence you have shown your own people – that is, until we had properly assimilated into the sprawling patchwork quilt of your culture. To your people, ‘same’ has always meant good and ‘different’ has always meant evil. . . . can you really blame my people for maintaining a safe distance?”“But thousands – millions drowned!” I insisted.
— Ash Gray, Qorth
I was sitting on the couch in the living room, pouring through an old sci-fi novel I’d found in one of the ruins, and I could hear the water bubbling as he cooked. The spaghetti smelled good, but I knew he’d probably put something crazy in it like popcorn or marshmallows, so I ignored my rumbling belly.
— Ash Gray, Qorth
Incase the title was misleading, this is the story of Qorth. He was an alien, but he was more normal, more boring, more goofy, and more ho-hum than any human I’d ever known . . . to the point that I sometimes wonder if he was really even an alien. To be fair, he did have “magical” otherworldly powers and some weird traits, like pointed ears. It rained when he was sad. His eyes were solid black, which really creeped me out in the beginning but, eh, I got used to it. He had weird tastes in food, like he would put ketchup on pancakes, and animals were sock puppets to him. The night I found him, it was the animals who led me to him.
— Ash Gray, Qorth
This drama was based on the true story of Constance Jeanne Sammarco, who, in 2012, was a 62-year-old, senior Caucasian teacher who was employed at Fairmont Heights High School, a 99% African American public school. She was charged with teacher incompetence by her Principal, Nakia Nicholson, who was an African American, and took leadership of the school when she was 35- years- old. In 2014, the 99% African American School Board of Prince George’s County in Maryland, officially fired Constance Jeanne Sammarco, an advanced placement teacher, and declared her an incompetent teacher.
— Victoria Matthews, Fhhs: A Science Fiction DRAM
Evil does not listen to reason.
— Grady P. Brown, The Young Guardians and the Genesis Spell
We lived longer but at a price. We had to be our own children, having none.
— Ray Bradbury, Now and Forever
Some of them are mech,” said Zita, nimbly picking her high heels through the steaming pools of red goo and severed, wriggling limbs. She was splattered with blood and grinning as she came to them, but she frowned to see the utter bafflement on Rose’s face. “Hey, snap out of it. Haven’t you seen mech before?” She kicked a man’s severed head, and Rose gasped when his face slid off, revealing a skull of gleaming silver metal.Rose shook her head. “Mech are illegal. The government s-said they feared a robot war!” she insisted, turning to follow as Zita limped past her.Zita laughed dryly, folding up her rifle and tucking it under her skirt. “Is it so hard to imagine your government lied? Governments tend to do that.
— Ash Gray, Project Mothership
I’m surprised you haven’t come to hate humans,” Rose said with hesitation. “I mean, given all that happened to you here. I’m pretty sure assimilating wasn’t easy either. You have a sort of foreign look for an American, and Americans are notorious for their xenophobia.”Zita laughed softly. “Me? Hate humans?” She darkly shook her head. “I fought in the Midnight War for thirty years, Rosie. I know what happens when people let hate make decisions for them.
— Ash Gray, Project Mothership
Therm-bombs! Drop ’em right on us! I been roasted before—it’s nothing!
— Henry V. O'Neil, Live Echoes
There are ten abilities, but no one has more than one—except me. I’m different that way. I have…more.”“You mean you have all ten.”I shrug my shoulders and nod. “And you say you’re different, huh?”“I am. I’m the only one—at least the first one,” I add, remembering what Sir Theo suggested about me being a more evolved species. A smile drifts to my mouth but fades when I notice Max staring at me with such disinterest that I become embarrassed.“I see. So is it just you who likes to think you’re special or all the teens in your world?”“What is that supposed to mean?”“Forget it. I guess I’m just trying to figure you out.
— Quoleena Sbrocca, Rayne: OuterSphere
Oh God, there were so many stars you could have used. What was the need to give these people to the fire, that the symbol of their passing might shine above Bethlehem?
— Arthur C. Clarke
People write books because of injustices.
— Victoria Matthews, Fhhs: A Science Fiction DRAM
I feel like a china cup that broke and was put back together wrong.
— William Hertling
They came with a massive force of numbers: to rip apart the veil of existence that few knew even existed. They tore their way into our world relentlessly, and once they breathed our air and stood on the soil of our homelands, they killed and maimed, surging from their rifts in numbers incalculable. Their troops on the ground were supported by winged creatures never intended for our world. The monsters swooped from the darkness beyond, filling the sky with dark silhouettes like bats, only much more dangerous. Never before had humanity faced such a force of evil and no one was immune to their violence.
— Cailee Francis, Sensuality in the Darkest of Times: A Short Story
She looked at Word. “You asked about X-it. He’s sleeping. There are no intruders in his consciousness. I’ve done a sweep. Several installations, their A-I and Super-Recognizers have all been rendered inoperable, but others will quickly pick up the slack. Some will malfunction. All are on high alert. They know contact has been made, that you are still alive, and a global search has begun. No A-I or human Super-Recognizer can penetrate the room that you were in and in which X-it is now sleeping. But he cannot come out of the room until we are ready to return to the second in time when Death saved you.
— Denny Taylor, Split Second Solution
This new brand of mastery, of dominance that demanded she bare her soul, not just surrender her body, gave him a terrible power over her.
— Renee Rose, His Human Prisoner
The winters were getting colder, starting earlier, lasting longer, with more snows than he could remember from childhood. As soon as man stopped adding his megatons of filth to the atmosphere each day, he thought, the atmosphere had reverted to what it must have been long ago, moister weather summer and winter, more stars than he had ever seen before, and more, it seemed, each night than the night before: the sky a clear, endless blue by day, velvet blue-black at night with blazing stars that modern man had never seen.
— Kate Wilhelm, Where Late the Sweet Birds Sang
Crap, make one, two really bad decisions in your life, and you spend the rest of it doubting everything.
— William Hertling, Kill Process
All I was trying to do when they caught me was bury my mother in an unmarked grave.
— S. L. Viehl
Sometimes in my tent, last at night, I think I can hear the stars scraping, against the sky.
— Rick Yancey
That's one of our speculations, by the way. That the prior version of history that this one overwrote was horrible. Complete geopolitical mayhem; half of New York City is underwater. The United States is headed toward civil war, or ruled by an artificial-intelligence construct, or some such other thing. Real end-of-days stuff. That the instances of ourselves who existed in that history figured out what we have: that the invention of the causality violation device was the cause. That in that prior version of history, Rebecca did not die in a car accident. That she went back to the past on a mission, as a volunteer, well aware of her sacrifice.
— Dexter Palmer, Version Control
I have had it with these dumb cakes on this dumb spaceship!
— Philip Reeve, Cakes in Space
[H.G. Wells said] that his method was "to trick his reader into an unwary concession to some plausible assumption and get on with his story while the illusion holds." Such prestidigitation is a characteristic ploy of science fiction: to make a nonexistent entity or impossible premise acceptable (often by scientific-sounding terms such as telepathy, extraterrestrial, cavorite, FTL speed) and then follow through with a genuinely realistic, logically coherent description of the effects and implica
— Ursula K. Le Guin
True Cause. History is full of war, of death, of sacrifice…of unimaginable brutality. All in the name of the Cause. The mighty Cause.It is not the idea of fighting for a cause that saddens me so. It is the ease with which people devote themselves to it. Men have flocked into the streets, marched, argued, fought, killed…for causes they didn’t even understand. They do it because they follow along, to be part of the group…or because they don’t want to be left out. Because they are told to, or because they crave to be part of something. They follow the Cause for many reasons, with great passion and staggering ignorance. Disturbingly rare among them, are people who fight because they truly understand the reasons for their struggle. Most are simply followers, nipping at the heels of their leaders, like dogs begging for scraps.Throughout history, men have fought for uncounted reasons. For land, for money, for hegemony over their neighbors. They have fought for religion, to avenge insults, to impose belief systems…or to resist such being forced upon them. Wars have been waged to preserve or eliminate slavery, to escape the yoke of political masters…or to impose such rule upon others. Men have fought against those they branded inferiors…and struggled against those who called themselves their betters.The drum has beaten the call to war throughout history, rallying men and women to fight for the Cause…to accept the inevitable pain and suffering of war. To sacrifice sons and daughters to the slaughter. To see cities burn and millions die in confusion, agony, and despair. All for the Cause.Since the dawn of recorded history, the flags have waved and the crowds have cheered. The soldiers have marched…they have marched to fight for the Cause.What did most of them get back from those who called them to war? Famine, disease, shortages, despair. Burned cities and broken dreams. A flag-draped coffin in place of a live son or daughter. Words, endless, professionally-written platitudes, offered by the masters in justification of the slaughter.How often was the Cause truly just, worth the pain and death and horror of war? How many of those billions, who took to the streets for 5,000 years and cheered and sang and rallied for the Cause…how many of them really understood? What percentage took the time to consider the facts, the situation…to question what they were told and ultimately decide for themselves if the Cause was true and righteous? How many mindlessly believed the words of their masters, giving their all to a cause they didn’t even comprehend? A Cause that wasn’t worthy of their sacrifice?What if the Cause is false, corrupt…a fraud created simply to urge men to fight? What if it serves nothing more than the base purposes of the leaders, buying them power with the blood of the people? What does the reasonable man, the just man, do if he discovers the Cause is false? Is there any retribution, any action, any violence unjustified in punishing those responsible? Could any horror that the oppressed and manipulated victims visit upon their former masters be unjustified. Does righteous vengeance become the Cause.
— Jay Allan
I am the scent that he will follow always, hunting for God.
— Olaf Stapledon, Sirius: A Fantasy of Love and Discord
The woman’s gaze sent chills racing down his spine. The diabolical, aberrantly predatory arch of her lips curdled his blood. Seriously, his blood must be curdling back at the lab right now.“Nice illusion. I’m definitely feeling the evil vibe here.”She stood and rounded the desk with perfect grace. “There is no illusion. Explain yourself quickly now, before I grow bored by your presence and dispense with it.
— G.S. Jennsen, Relativity
Anyone who tells you life has greater value when it comes with an expiration date is full of shit. Immortality is worth the fortunes of galaxies.”She regarded him too intently. “But it’s not worth everything. You gave it up for your freedom.”His forced bravado faltered. That truth still petrified him today. “I did.
— G.S. Jennsen, Relativity
Mia stood between the bed and the broken window, holding an active plasma blade at waist-height in front of her. A thick coat of blood stained the plasma nearly from hilt to tip, hissing as it dribbled from blade to floor.“Are you all right?”Mia gave her a wan, distant smile. “It’s okay. I’ve done it before.
— G.S. Jennsen, Relativity
Both [social science & science fiction] attempt to understand empirical facts and lived experience as something that is shaped by abstract - and not directly perceptible - structural forces.
— Peter Frase, Four Futures: Life after Capitalism
Like the original concept, the stormrider had rectangular blades, sixteen of them radiating out from the hub, each one a flat lattice of struts twenty-five kilometers long, made from the toughest steelsilicon fibers the Commonwealth knew how to manufacture. Twenty-three kilometers of them were covered by an ultra-thin silvered foil, giving a total surface area of over one thousand eight hundred square kilometers for the solar wind to impact on. Even in an ordinary solar system environment that would have produced a considerable torque. In the Half Way system the stormrider was positioned at the Lagrange point between the red star and its neutron companion, right in the middle of the plasma current, where the ion density was orders of magnitude thicker than any normal solar wind. The power the stormrider produced when it was in the thick of the flow was enough to operate the wormhole generator. But it couldn’t simply sit at the Lagrange point producing electricity continuously; that would have been too much like perpetual motion. As the waves of plasma pushed against it, they exerted an unremitting pressure on the blades that blew the stormrider away from the Lagrange point out toward the neutron star. So for five hours the two sets of blades would turn in opposite directions, generating electricity for the Port Evergreen wormhole that was delivered via a zero-width wormhole. The stormrider also stored some of the power, so that at the end of the five hours when it was out of alignment, it had enough of a reserve to fire its onboard thrusters, moving itself even farther out of the main plasma stream where the pressure was reduced. From there it chased a simple fifteen-hour loop back around through open space to the Lagrange point, where the cycle would begin again.
— Peter F. Hamilton, Judas Unchained
Don't let 'em see they killed you!
— Henry V. O'Neil, CHOP Line
Funny how Underhill could get along with almost anyone, tuning down his manias to whatever the traffic would bear.
— Vernor Vinge, A Deepness in the Sky
I swear to Vishnu, if this doesn’t work, I’m going to stab you in the throat with a Pipette.
— Kyoko M., Of Cinder and Bone
I lost an arm on my last trip home. My left arm.
— Octavia E. Butler, Kindred
If this place were closer to Terra there’d be empty beer cans and plastic plates strewn around. The trees would be gone. There’d be old jet motors in the water. The beaches would stink to high heaven. Terran Development would have a couple of million little plastic houses set up everywhere.
— Philip K. Dick, Strange Eden
It’s not just the drive. They’re right out front. Everywhere. Waiting for me. All day and night.”“Who are, dear?”“Robots selling things. As soon as I set down the ship. Robots and visual-audio ads. They dig right into a man’s brain. They follow people around until they die.
— Philip K. Dick, Sales Pitch
I had thought Chicago was inevitable, like diarrhea.
— John Varley, The Persistence of Vision
Laches faded away, leaving Miriam standing facing Hyperion, the Metigen who had orchestrated the slaughter of over fifty million people a short year ago.There were limits to even deals with the devil, lines which should never be crossed…but she was beginning to wonder when she might find one.
— G.S. Jennsen, Relativity
The girl sleeping and the finisher, willing himself to finish her.Why didn't he finish her?Why couldn't he finish her?
— Rick Yancey, The 5th Wave
In that moment, she hated his quiet patient tone, hated the stench of the incense, and hated the beauteous pity painted on the faces of the women on the walls. Their expressions contained serene understanding; their eyes seemed able to peer into her soul. She found their forgiveness suffocating. And above all, she hated the tiny niggling thing in her that wanted to know more.
— Amy J. Murphy, Allies and Enemies: Fallen
Thing to know about the Reaches....It’s always trying to kill you. Even the empty places between the stars."Asher Corsair, Allies and Enemies: Rogues
— Amy J. Murphy, Allies and Enemies: Rogues
Dear Time,You're so beautiful when You stand still.
— Jon Ng, Dear Time: Circle of Life
Zaphod had never heard of this. He believed that he had heard of all the fun things in the Galaxy, so he assumed that the Total Perspective Vortex was not fun.
— Douglas Adams, The Restaurant at the End of the Universe
I have found that life has been a balanced road that continues to be obscured by the dust of prejudice and dangerous extremes; good and evil, law and chaos, faith and logic, love and hate, greed and sacrifice...For the human creature, that permanency is simply a reliving of earth and pain.
— M. Colin Alston, Vice Womb Age
Hahaha! You fools really thought you were gonna walk in here and I would show myself like that. No, you’re mistaken. I have a few more tricks up my sleeve. You have a long road until you get to me and like I said, Mr. Angel, I’m the last person you’ll want to see! In fact, if you’re playing attention, you have met me already! However, I’ll leave it to my minions to take care of all of you! - Evil One from Revenge of the Gloobas
— Angel Ramon Medina, Revenge of the Gloobas: The Third Book of the Thousand Years War Series
Caleb reached up and slid the tie out of her hair to let it fall free. “You were crazy to do it. But I love you because you’re wild and fearless, not in spite of it, and I know the price.”He sensed her cringe against him. “Which is?”“At random and unexpected times, you terrify the life out of me.
— G.S. Jennsen, Relativity
This is a Spartacan fighting knife. Heard of the Spartacan Scouts? Rough boys. This knife belonged to one of them. He died saving my life.
— Henry V. O'Neil, CHOP Line
Imagine you’re a fish, swimming in a pond. You can move forward and back, side to side, but never up out of the water. If someone were standing beside the pond, watching you, you’d have no idea they were there. To you, that little pond is an entire universe. Now imagine that someone reaches down and lifts you out of the pond. You see that what you thought was the entire world is only a small pool. You see other ponds. Trees. The sky above. You realize you’re a part of a much larger and more mysterious reality than you had ever dreamed of.
— Blake Crouch, Dark Matter
Yes, I was scared of the Daleks and the Zarbi and the rest, but I was taking other, stranger, more important lessons away from my Saturday tea time serial. For a start, I became infected by the idea that there are an infinite number of worlds only a foot step away. And another part of the meme was this- some things are bigger on the inside than they are on the outside. And perhaps some people are bigger on the inside than they are on the outside as well. And that was only the start of it.
— Neil Gaiman, The View from the Cheap Seats: Selected Nonfiction
Everyone has got their own ideas and they push them and say to hell with everyone else. That's the history of the human race. It got us on top, only now it is pushing us off. The thing is that people will put up with any kind of discomfort, and dying babies, and old age at thirty as long as it has always been that way. Try to get them to change and they fight you, even while they're dying, saying it was good enough for grandpa so it's good enough for me. Bango, dead.
— Harry Harrison, Make Room! Make Room!
I am in short, a witch of the quantumverse.
— Philip Palmer, Artemis
Was Jane now. All Jane. Come calamity or come calm, was myself and none else.
— J.D.  Jordan, Calamity: Being an Account of Calamity Jane and Her Gunslinging Green Man
3. When making your dramatic exit, crawl along one of the web strands that extend outward from the center. Avoid the webbing that runs in concentric circles, as it's the stickiest. 4. Once you've escaped, say something snarky to the queen, like "Sorry I couldn't stick around.
— Andrew Shaffer, How to Survive a Sharknado and Other Unnatural Disasters: Fight Back When Monsters and Mother Nature Attack
Surprised huh, thought you had me back in prison didn’t you? To answer your question what keeps me alive is my drive, my drive to kill you! I have nothing, but hate for you and your family. It will be my pleasure taking you out. I don’t care about power, plutonium or even being rich. None of that matters to me. I only care about taking you out. Even if I die I want to be the one who is called the killer of Angel Medina! There’s no where for you to go. Now we will truly see who is better! Come on put up you hands and prepare for your final battle of your life! - Orlando from Framed: The Second Book of the Thousand Years War
— Angel Ramon Medina, Framed: The Second Book of the Thousand Years War
You did a fine job with those science nerds over the course of this past year, John. Very fine job. Nothing but praise from the lot of them. Well done.” His thick English accent had a soothing effect every time he spoke. John remembered him fondly as a young man. His father and the Admiral had gone to the academy together and served side by side for many years before John’s father met an untimely death. Sitting here with him now and listening to him speak brought him back to those simpler times.“I was just doing my duty, Sir.”“Oh come now. You know and I know that there isn’t a bloody captain in this entire fleet that wanted that assignment. There isn’t a bit of action when you have the lot of them aboard. And on a bloody science mission besides. No, no, you are a real hero for saving all of us from having to do such a duty. And for a year! Bloody hell.”He opened up a drawer and pulled out two thick, stubby glasses, and then extracted a bottle of rum. Of course he brought out the rum.“I suppose you heard that we’ve been hard at work getting our first Deep Space Class starship ready to launch this year?” he asked as he filled both glasses half full with the amber liquid. He Offered one glass to John who took it with reluctance. He had never been one who liked liquor.“Heard she’s a beauty. The engine is something of a marvel as well?”“Damn straight,” he said as he downed his first glass in one pull. He filled his glass up half full for round two. “Currently our fastest ship will get you to the Wild Space region in twenty years. This buggers going to do it in six months and I’d like you to take her out on her maiden voyage.”John sat back in shock. The thought of taking out the prototype of the future… it was a great honor and one that hundreds of captains in star fleet would give anything for. He certainly wasn’t worthy of such an honor. He didn’t have nearly the amount of years as everyone else in the fleet. “I don’t think it’d be right to accept, would it? I mean… there are some captains who’ve…”“Bumshnickles!” he shouted. “Your father was the captain of the first Earth Starship Independence. It’s only right that the second to bear her name should have an Avery in the chair.
— Jason M. Brooks, Wild Space: Onslaught
It’s getting a little chilly in here! Why don’t we sit by the fireplace and I’ll tell you the story of how I single handedly killed the Medina boys!
— Angel Ramon Medina, Framed: The Second Book of the Thousand Years War
Don't needlessly draw attention to yourself. If you're twerking on the beach, a circling pteracuda could mistake you for a wounded animal.
— Andrew Shaffer, How to Survive a Sharknado and Other Unnatural Disasters: Fight Back When Monsters and Mother Nature Attack
These guys are tough, this world is crazy and the wind here is crazy strong! However if I want a normal life for once I have to try harder! Angel - From Revenge of the Gloobas. Coming soon!
— Angel Ramon Medina