1030568 quotes found
"I don't take information and experience into my mind in that organized a fashion, but when I want to bring it out, somehow it's there. You write what you know because — like there's another choice? The trick is to try and know as much as possible."
"I am a much better person and a better writer having had my children than I would be otherwise. I would have missed a whole aspect of the human experience that's tremendously fundamental to things like characterization. A lot of writers write as if the hero sort of popped out of the box at age 22 fully formed. And one thing that raising children does is give you some sense of how human beings really are put together. So when you go to put together a character you can have a more realistic sense of where people really come from, why they really behave the way they do and what a tremendous amount of life and complexity lies behind every human being. But I think you can get that from being a father too. I think it's something you can do by growing up and being observant even if you don't have children."
"Don't worry about that depressing old dictum "Write what you know". If you need to know something, look it up. Learn how to find out what you need to know to make it right. Be passionate, be picky, have enough self-criticism to demand of yourself your best and not sort of let it slide by. And remember that the greatest defect any piece of fiction can have is not to be finished."
"Some fortunate, prolific writers seem to be able, efficiently, to keep several projects going at once; it appears I am not one of them."
"I don’t write stories to tell readers what to think, or even tell them what I think; I write stories to show me what I think. Writing is always a journey of discovery that way, as suspenseful for me as I hope it will be for the audience."
"Lots of us SF-types like the idea of traveling to the Future (although, having now done so once myself -- the hard way -- I’m less sure), but why do we imagine the Future would want us? Oh, a few 21st-century Icemen, perhaps, as historical curiosities, but in our hundreds of millions? It would be like the greatest wave of immigration ever, but from the past into other people’s Now. It might seem to them like sacrificing resources needed for their children to their great-great-great-grandparents. Counter-evolutionary, among other things."
"The writer should always reserve the right to have a better idea."
"Oh yes. This was going to do well. If there was one thing Tsipis appreciated, it was a quick study. Ekaterin was one of those show once people whom Miles, in his mercenary days, had found more precious than unexpected oxygen in the emergency reserve."
"You couldn’t be that good and not know it, somewhere in your secret heart, however much you’d been abused into affecting public humility."
"My brother has this bad little habit of editing his version of reality to fit his audience."
"Miles was plenty expressive too, in his own unreliable way. Half of it was horseshit, but you were never sure which half."
"All Mark knew was that if it came down to a choice between Kareen and oxygen, he’d prefer to give up oxygen, thanks."
"“No money, but she’s beautiful, and her blood lines are impeccable.” “Are you choosing a wife, or buying a horse?”"
"“He told Mark he’s courting her in secret,” Martya put in to the Vorbrettens. “It’s a secret from her. We’re all still trying to figure that one out.” “Is the entire city party to my private conversations?” Miles snarled. “I’m going to strangle Mark.” Martya blinked at him with manufactured innocence. “Kareen had it from Mark. I had it from Ivan. Mama had it from Gregor. And Da had it from Pym. If you’re trying to keep a secret, Miles, why are you going around telling everyone?”"
"If you’re just now finding out that this world is unjust, well, you’re behind the times."
"You have to be careful who you let define your good."
"For her, this was a metaphor, he reminded himself. Though maybe he was a metaphor too, inside his head with the Black Gang. A metaphor gone metastatic. Metaphors could do that, under enough pressure."
"I could be a virgin again. What a dreadful thought."
"It is always easier to get forgiveness than permission."
"When you give each other everything, it becomes an even trade. Each wins all."
"You don’t pay back your parents. You can’t. The debt you owe them gets collected by your children, who hand it down in turn. It’s a sort of entailment. Or if you don’t have children of the body, it’s left as a debt to your common humanity. Or to your God, if you possess or are possessed by one."
"“There’s something to that in both directions,” said Ekaterin mildly. “Nothing is more guaranteed to make one start acting like a child than to be treated like one. It’s so infuriating. It took me the longest time to figure out how to stop falling into that trap.” “Yes, exactly,” said Kareen eagerly. “You understand! So—how did you make them stop?” “You can’t make them—whoever your particular them is—do anything, really,” said Ekaterin slowly. “Adulthood isn’t an award they’ll give you for being a good child. You can waste…years, trying to get someone to give that respect to you, as though it were a sort of promotion or raise in pay. If only you do enough, if only you are good enough. No. You have to just…take it. Give it to yourself, I suppose. Say, I’m sorry you feel like that, and walk away. But that’s hard.”"
"“Heavens, Kareen, you don’t have to pay me—” “Never,” said Kareen with passion, “ever suggest they don’t have to pay you. What they pay for, they’ll value. What they get for free, they’ll take for granted, and then demand as a right. Hold them up for all the market will bear.”"
"She wondered when not dull had become her prime criterion for mate selection."
"I wanted to give you a victory. But by their essential nature triumphs can’t be given. They must be taken and the worse the odds and the fiercer the resistance, the greater the honor. Victories can’t be gifts."
"He lived, therefore he learned."
"Lately I have come to believe that the principal difference between heaven and hell is the company you keep there."
"“Is there anything else I can do for you, Madame Vorsoisson?” Illyan called after her, as she stood outside to let Nikki exit. She leaned back toward him to breathe venomously, “Yes. Hang Vormoncrief.” He offered her a sincere salute. “I shall do my humble best, Madame.”"
"“So…d’you like him? Or not?” Like was surely not an adequate word for this hash of delight and anger and longing, this profound respect laced with profound irritation, all floating on a dark pool of old pain. The past and the future, at war in her head. “I don’t know. Some of the time I do, yes, very much.” Another long pause. “Are you in love with him?” What Nikki knew of adult love, he’d mostly garnered off the holovid. Part of her mind readily translated this question as code for, Which way are you going to jump, and what will happen to me? And yet…he could not share or even imagine the complexity of her romantic hopes and fears, but he certainly knew how such stories were supposed to Come Out Right. “I don’t know. Some of the time. I think.” He favored her with his Big People Are Crazy look. In all, she could only agree."
"“Now, you had that doctorate in Barrayaran history. Do any really interesting District succession squabbles spring to your memory?” “Lord Midnight the horse,” Galeni replied at once. “Who always voted ‘neigh.’”"
"He carefully ignored his simmering fury. Rage had no place in this. Calculation and implacable action did."
"Reputation is what other people know about you. Honor is what you know about yourself."
"There is no more hollow feeling than to stand with your honor shattered at your feet while soaring public reputation wraps you in rewards. That’s soul-destroying. The other way around is merely very, very irritating."
"“No,” said his father, “you don’t have to smile. But if you’re really asking for advice from my accumulated experience, I’m saying Guard your honor. Let your reputation fall where it will. And outlive the bastards.”"
"“Honesty is the only way with anyone, when you’ll be so close as to be living inside each other’s skins. So…is this Ekaterin another passing fancy?” The Count hesitated, his eyes crinkling. “Or is she the one who will love my son forever and fiercely—hold his household and estates with integrity—stand beside him through danger, and dearth, and death—and guide my grandchildren’s hands when they light my funeral offering?”"
"“You? I know you! You trust beyond reason.” She met his eyes steadily. “Yes. It’s how I get results beyond hope. As you may recall.”"
"Gardens were meant to be seen, smelled, walked through, grubbed in. A hundred objective measurements didn’t sum the worth of a garden; only the delight of its users did that."
"A tactical retreat is not a bad response to a surprise assault, you know. First you survive. Then you choose your own ground. Then you counterattack."
"The trouble with oaths of the form, death before dishonor, is that eventually, given enough time and abrasion, they separate the world into just two sorts of people: the dead, and the forsworn."
"Even love is not as strong as habit, eh?"
"How can you stand me? I can’t even stand me."
"He smiled, recapturing her hand. “A very wise woman once told me—you just go on. I’ve never encountered any good advice that didn’t boil down to that, in the end. Not even my father’s.”"
"Government by thugs in the Bloody Centuries gave Barrayar many colorful historical incidents, suitable for high drama. I don’t think it’s a drama we wish to return to in real life."
"“So much for that line of reasoning, Lord Richars,” Ekaterin finished. She sat back with a hand-dusting gesture, and added, by no means under her breath, “Twit.”"
"If power was an illusion, wasn’t weakness necessarily one also?"
"Roots grow deep in the dark."
"“When he invited me to one for the Winterfair season, I wasn’t sure if it was hunting or social, and whether I should pack weapons or dresses.” Lady Vorpatril’s smile sharpened. “Dresses are weapons, my dear, in sufficiently skilled hands.”"
"“I am a bodyguard by trade,” she said, evidently continuing a conversation with Lady Vorpatril. “How can I kick someone’s teeth in wearing this?” “A woman wearing that suit, my dear, will have volunteers to kick in annoying persons’ teeth for her,” said Lady Alys."
"Life’s uncertain out there. Things can go down bad, fast, anytime. We all just get a time, in our different ways."
"“What would you do? If you discovered or suspected such a horror?” His lips twisted. “That’s a tough one. A higher honor must underlie ours, the count says. We can’t ever obey unthinkingly.” “Huh. That’s what Miles says, too. Is that where he got it, from his father?” “I shouldn’t be surprised. M’lord’s brother Mark says integrity is a disease, and you can only catch it from someone who has it.”"
Young though he was, his radiant energy produced such an impression of absolute reliability that Hedgewar made him the first sarkaryavah, or general secretary, of the RSS.
- Gopal Mukund Huddar
Largely because of the influence of communists in London, Huddar's conversion into an enthusiastic supporter of the fight against fascism was quick and smooth. The ease with which he crossed from one worldview to another betrays the fact that he had not properly understood the world he had grown in.
Huddar would have been 101 now had he been alive. But then centenaries are not celebrated only to register how old so and so would have been and when. They are usually celebrated to explore how much poorer our lives are without them. Maharashtrian public life is poorer without him. It is poorer for not having made the effort to recall an extraordinary life.
I regret I was not there to listen to Balaji Huddar's speech [...] No matter how many times you listen to him, his speeches are so delightful that you feel like listening to them again and again.
By the time he came out of Franco's prison, Huddar had relinquished many of his old ideas. He displayed a worldview completely different from that of the RSS, even though he continued to remain deferential to Hedgewar and maintained a personal relationship with him.