Science Fiction Quotes

It illuminated a vision Dante could not have imagined in his wildest nightmares, nor Poe in the grasp of an uncontrollable delirium.

This is the fiction that I’m referring to as rhapsody, this stitching of mimetic representation, oneiric imagery, ludic rules, allegoric morals, satiric critique and diegetic story into complex quiltings of narrative.

You talk as if a god had made the Machine," cried the other. "I believe that you pray to it when you are unhappy. Men made it, do not forget that. Great men, but men. The Machine is much, but not everything.

Good luck with the aliens, and if we survive this feel free to look me up on your next vacation.”“Good luck with the aliens? You are such a prick.

Survival is insufficient

Niko was a man of few words and flying, sugary snacks. I like that in a human. ~Catcher

Anyone can get their hands on a fortune but to become successful one must work intelligent and hard.”- EMW

There are some that even beg for the Chamber," she could hear Isaar saying in the back of her mind. "Soft minded fools or broken souls that would rather live a fabricated existence than deal with reality.

What will I do if I find myself with a heart?" "Lose it constantly, I imagine.

How inappropriate to call this planet "Earth," when it is clearly "Ocean.

Resistance, however, is useless. (1939)

Howl howl gargle howl gargle howl howl howl gargle howl gargle howl howl gargle gargle howl gargle gargle gargle howl slurrp uuuurgh should have a good time. Message repeats.

Was he leaving home, or going home?

The science fiction author, H.G. Wells was an avid supporter of eugenics and a believer in a hierarchy of the races.

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.

Americans worship technology. It's an inherent trait in the national zeitgeist.

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.

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.

Frankie runs a sex moon and has kids. My head hurts just thinking about it. You still keep up with her, too, then?”Ryelle's face took on a hunted expression. “She sends me coupons, Declan.

This virtual world is sparsely populated but you may find some of my soldiers that were able to get in to the world who may prove to be a big help in your quest. That is if they haven’t been captured by the gloobas or turn into traitors themselves. - Elder God "The Thousand Years War

Quote from Frontiers:"Regardless of what happened, it was definitely going to be an exciting time for everyone, the day humanity first reached out to touch the stars.

It takes wisdom to know when you've had enough, strength to make the decision and determination to see it through.

Everything about us, everything around us, everything we know and can know of is composed ultimately of patterns of nothing; that’s the bottom line, the final truth. So where we find we have any control over those patterns, why not make the most elegant ones, the most enjoyable and good ones, in our own terms? Yes, we’re hedonists, Mr. Bora Horza Gobuchul. We seek pleasure and have fashioned ourselves so that we can take more of it; admitted. We are what we are. But what about you? What does that make you?

[A] couple I had known - who were old friends - asked me what I was going to work on next. I told them I wanted to write a near future book about AIDS concentration camps. They were vehement in their response: they thought it was a terrible idea. Their words both shocked and saddened me. "Do you really want to write a book about homosexuals?" they asked me. "Won't people who read your work be influenced toward sin?"I notice that I don't hear from them much lately.

Meteorites don’t fall on the Earth. They fall on the Sun and the Earth gets in the way.” - John W. Campbell

You will soon learn that there ARE no strange stars, no alien skies"- No?"Only skies and stars, in all their varieties. Each one with its own flavour, and all flavours good"- Now YOU think like a tree. Flavours! Of skies!"I have tasted the heat of many stars, and all of them were sweet

You can use logic to justify just about anything, that's its power and it's flaw.

Her weight settled on her back foot as she crossed her arms over her chest and stared at him, now legitimately baffled.“How delusional are you, aliens in your head notwithstanding?

No…you can ask for a beautiful, witty, intelligent yet minxy woman in your arms every night, a mansion on a hill—or better yet in the sky—and the best bodyguards to protect you when someone does inevitably try to kill you. For starters.

His eyes were eggs of unstable crystal, vibrating with a frequency whose name was rain and the sound of trains, suddenly sprouting a humming forest of hair-fine glass spines.

Subconsciously, we all want to be nebula... In the end, we’re all connected. We’re all going to become one cloud of light whether you like it or not. We’re all made of the same star dust.

I looked at Victor, my heart swelling from the emotion. “When I die, please do the same ceremony for me,” I whispered, choking up. “This is the most captivating and emotional event I have ever been part of.”“I’m afraid you’ll have to ask somebody else for that because if you die before me I won’t survive it.” He kissed the tip of my nose. I gazed at him with so much love that my heart almost burst out of my chest.

I did not fear that I might tread upon a live rail and be killed. I feared something far more intangible-doing what was not contemplated by the Machine. Then I said to myself, “Man is the measure”, and I went, and after many visits I found an opening.

Technos and clerics have much in common. Both take a world that can’t be fully understood and try to explain its fundamental properties. Clerics postulate beliefs that can never be proven; they demand you accept these postulates as your Faith, which will guide your actions and thoughts. It’s a top down way of thinking; start with the big picture and derive rules for living. Fundamental knowledge is static. Even the derived rules rarely change.Technos work from the bottom up. They build a baseline of observations and formulate theories to explain these phenomena. Nothing is sacred; with new observations, theories are discarded or modified to fit the facts.Technos and clerics; how could they not be in conflict?Dan Ronco’s Diary, 2016

We're not in a fairytale story. This is not a movie. Scriptwriters don't write our fates. We do.

Perhaps the god who had made the Cat People intended them as a joke. They had schools, but no education; politicians but no government; people, but no personal integrity; faces, but no concept of face. One had to admit that their god had gone a little too far with his little joke.

If you truly love someone, you will cherish what they despise most about themselves" - Fernando Conclaves

In the space of a breath he had crossed the distance separating them and spun her around into a vise grip from behind. Somehow, the gun was out of her hand and in his. He locked her arms between them and raised the gun to her temple. His voice resonated low and dangerous at her ear. “Just so we’re very clear. If I want to kill you, I can kill you.

I maintain that cultural sensitivity should be replaced by cultural awareness. Awareness implies research, consideration, thought, and judiciousness....Sensitivity denies equal access to language. It segregates and censors based on the background of the writer rather than the content of the story. No society can embrace cultural sensitivity and retain full capacity for freedom of speech.

It felt somehow comforting to return to the sparkling lake tucked into the mountains on Portal Prime. But why, when everything about Mesme made her the antithesis of comfortable?Because here was where desperation had become hope. Where helplessness had become purpose.

May the Code replicate eternal.

Speak peace unto the world and good souls will stand.

Maybe none of this is about control. Maybe it really isn't about who can own whom, who can do what to whom and get away with it, even as far as death. Maybe it isn't about who can sit and who has to kneel or stand or lie down, legs spread open. Maybe it's about who can do what to whom and be forgiven for it. Never tell me it amounts to the same thing.

You can scoff at opinions. You can reject hypotheses. You can discard theories out of hand. But you cannot reject the facts

Of course, if we do find the Great Glom, we will see other gloms as well," said Dottia. "I mean, he will not exist alone, will he? Mythic creatures like him are often spoken of as if they did exist alone, and they were born unique, hatched from a singular egg, out of nowhere, with no parents, mate or offspring. He will have a female glom as his wife, his own glom children, and an entire race of gloms as his subjects." "Certainly, he will, I agree," said Klubbe.

Beware of self-indulgence. The romance surrounding the writing profession carries several myths: that one must suffer in order to be creative; that one must be cantankerous and objectionable in order to be bright; that ego is paramount over skill; that one can rise to a level from which one can tell the reader to go to hell. These myths, if believed, can ruin you. If you believe you can make a living as a writer, you already have enough ego.

Humanity is a spectator sport. God is the spectator.

It’s important to have a buddy like that. Somebody who’ll stop you from doing that really stupid thing you were gonna do just because you couldn’t think of anything better. -- unidentified soldier, eulogizing his dead buddy

She studied my face for a long minute. "Are you going to help my mom?" It was a simple question. But how do you tell a child that things just aren't that simple, that some questions don't have simple answers--or any answer at all?

To struggle against the weight of sleep as reality eclipses the moon of your dreams is the purest sign of true love.

Let's say that the God the Christians pray to is real. He actually exists. But this God is the same as the one that the Jews pray to and the same as the one that the Muslims pray to and whatever other religions are praying to a God, He is the one. One God with many faces. Most of these religions contain the myth of the Anti-Christ, a being who will come one day and lead the world astray, lead the world to a place of sin and evil. Who could this Anti-Christ be...Consider the God with many faces. How many wars have been fought in His Name? How many people have been beaten, jailed, and maimed to prove His points. Think of the Inquisition, the Holocaust, Salem, and the Sudan. All of these tragedies carried out in His name. Why is it accepted that He is a force for good? If we were to look for the Anti-Christ just by his accomplishments, wouldn't we clearly suspect the being who is the cause of so much woe?

A man either lives life as it happens to him, meets it head-on and licks it, or he turns his back on it and starts to wither away.

There's a sameness to streetlife. On every world I've ever been, the same underlying patterns play out, flaunt and vaunt, buy and sell, like some distilled essence of human behavior seeping out from whatever clanking political machine has been dropped on it from above.

Stability,” insisted the Controller, “stability. The primal and the ultimate need. Stability. Hence all this.

I need to fight for the preservation of the Earth type planets and its coexistence with worlds after death.-Banyan

Today we live in a society in which spurious realities are manufactured by the media, by governments, by big corporations, by religious groups, political groups... So I ask, in my writing, What is real? Because unceasingly we are bombarded with pseudo-realities manufactured by very sophisticated people using very sophisticated electronic mechanisms. I do not distrust their motives; I distrust their power. They have a lot of it. And it is an astonishing power: that of creating whole universes, universes of the mind. I ought to know. I do the same thing.

Life’s more science-fictiony by the day.

Sleeping AtlantisSilent cool watersdancing upon her skin ~silent cool waterushering dreams within...

Hope replaced fear. Light subsumed darkness. Strength, born of the power of this presence, mingled with Kathryn's own determination and reordered the last of her mangled body and soul, realigning them into all that she had once been.What she would now be was once again an open question.

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!” t“You’ve seen them fly? Where do they go? I am wondering if there is a city we can reach.” t“Before you woke from your coffin, they flew indeed. Turning and turning in the widening gyre. What does that suggest?” t“Um. Some rough beast is slouching toward Bethlehem waiting to be born, maybe?” t“No doubt the spirit of prophecy escapes your lips! It must be prophecy because I cannot grok what you are saying.” t“Sorry. Won’t happen again. It suggests a search pattern.