science-fiction

Duty over fear.

I am War. I am Death. I am the Unloved God.

It's been a pleasure pleasing you.

They were like lightning and rain, existing together but clashing at their very natures.

He places a hand on either side of the bar, locking me in. 'And why won't you admit it?' he asks. I'm so startled by his new, gentler tone that I hazard a glance. My breath catches in my throat. Jared's eyes have changed to that sumptuous green, huge and mesmerizing, the pupils dilating like a cat's. I can't see to look away as he inches forward, until he's standing all but a hair's breadth away from me.

Dust is not a constant. There__ not a fixed quantity that has always been the same. Conscious beings make Dust__hey renew it all the time, by thinking and feeling and reflecting, by gaining wisdom and passing it on. And if you help everyone else in your worlds to do that, by helping them to learn and understand about themselves and each other and the way everything works, and by showing them how to be kind instead of cruel, and patient instead of hasty, and cheerful instead of surly, and above all how to keep their minds open and free and curious_Then they will renew enough to replace what is lost through one window. So there could be one left open.

The entire history of mankind is problem solving, or science fiction swallowing ideas, digesting them, and excreting formulas for survival. You can't have one without the other. No fantasy, no reality. No studies concerning loss, no gain. No imagination, no will. No impossible dreams: No possible solutions.

I don't pay much attention to the distinction between fantasy and science fiction__r between __enre_ and __ainstream_ for that matter. For me, all fiction is about prizing the logic of metaphors-which is the logic of narratives in general__ver reality, which is irreducibly random and senseless.We spend our entire lives trying to tell stories about ourselves__hey__e the essence of memory. It is how we make living in this unfeeling accidental universe tolerable. That we call such a tendency __he narrative fallacy_ doesn__ mean it doesn__ also touch upon some aspect of the truth.Some stories simply literalize their metaphors a bit more explicitly.

The fact that you can't see how much you're worth makes you worth so much more." She opened her mouth once, her brow bunched, but nothing came out. She didn't know the words to ask. I continued. "A diamond doesn't know how much it's worth; it's just beautiful because it exists.

Necessity is the mother of invention, which probably explains why invention__ father left home on the pretext of buying a newspaper and hasn__ been heard of since.

I stare at the long, almost elegant thinness of the wrist bone jutting out from a heap of flesh and cloth. All that separates us, that poor woman and me, is an accident of birth.

I stare into the ruggedly handsome face, the eyes alight with a vast intelligence and that eerie, unearthly power. He's beautiful, so haunted with power it takes me a second to realize exactly what position Nolan Storm has put me in, and by extension, my family.

Frown deepening, Jared bounces a hand off the chair arm. 'You know you're different, Princess. And it's not just because you're some fancy, spoiled rich girl. Hell, you don't smell like anyone else. Money can't buy that smell.' I assume he wasn't talking about my expensive perfume, which money did in fact buy.

What's a Laster? A dead man.

He licks his lips as his head tilts down toward me. My body goes wild. Frissons of electricity travel up and down my spine as the True Born leans down. His voice is silk in my ear. 'You're not with your parents now. No restrictions. How does that make you feel?

How else do I describe what I see_what I feel? When I look at a plant, I do not see a green object. I see Life. I see energy. I see a will to exist like no other. When I see an animal, I see more than fur and bone and blood. I see Love. Love is all around us. And in us. And through us. Love is us. It is everywhere. I see it. I feel it. I hear it. I only wish all of you could, too. If you could experience what I do every moment of every day, there would be no anger, no hate, no killing. I want to share what I know with the entire universe, but my words fall on deaf ears. People go right on fighting and hating and killing. And there is nothing I can do.

History judged causes' greatness proportionally by how many individuals ,themselves powerless to affect any outcomes of consequence, suffered and died in their service.

Space: the gaping hole between land and other land.