Fantasy Authors

"This life, my dear bird, consists of a haphazard sequence of accidental meetings and partings, very few of which can ever be anticipated, avoided or fully understood. The element of sheer Chance, my friend, conflicting as it does with the first principles of Causation, denies any premeditated plan on the part of Destiny. Destiny, therefore, may only be defined as the sum total of one’s accumulated experiences, which are themselves accidental and purposeless. ‘Purpose,’ you deduce from this, is an interpretation imposed upon a sequence of events after the fact.”"

"“Umm,” said Ooo, dubiously. “Do I detect a questioning tone in your voice?” inquired the bird tartly. “Which might imply that you find a flaw in my reasoning?”"

"Day dawned, as day generally does, in so spectacular a manner as to seem rather show-offy were it to be encountered among any less significant meteorological phenomena."

"The expression on his features was one of a pained disapproval, similar to that of a gentleman of the cloth when observing the young folks behaving like young folks."

"Veronica Roth has a very blunt and not-so-sugarcoated way of killing people off."

"[T]hat’s something Roth does extraordinarily well – explain the toughest parts of life. Love, loss, heartbreak, joy and faith."

"“You need to calm down,” Ala says to him, her eyes closed. “I can’t concentrate with you scared like this, it’s like you’re waterboarding me with hot chocolate.”"

"“There’s nothing otherworldly about you.” “Oh really?” Niko laughs a little. “The fact that I can make you see things that aren’t there, that seems completely ordinary to you?” “Hallucinogenic mushrooms can also make me see things that aren’t there. I don’t call them supernatural, either.”"

"“Do you know,” it says, “a zmora can tell the difference between dread and fear. A person fears what’s unknown, but they dread what’s known.”"

"As far as Niko knows, that’s nonsense, but mortals are always devising nonsense."

"“As a general rule, I don’t feel the need to antagonize people,” Niko says. “There’s plenty of anger in the world already. But it can be interesting to see how people react.”"

"I thought about reaching out with my authorial hand and snatching her from that awful situation. I thought about it and I agonized over it. But to me, that felt dishonest and emotionally manipulative. This was the end she had chosen, and I felt she had earned an ending that was as powerful as she was."

"I may be biased, but I think I have the best readers ever."

"When someone targets innocents among my people, then yes. I hunt them. And I think the world is better for it."

"There’s no way to please everyone, because that mythical book with the ending that every single person wants can’t exist—you want different things, each one of you. The only thing I can do, in light of that fact, is write an honest story as best I can."

"He doesn’t like the ceiling that blocks his view of the stars. And he doesn’t like religious spaces, in general—the obsession with wrong and right, purity and pollution, modernity and eternity, it doesn’t make sense to him."

"Gentle souls cast as devils in humankind’s ongoing stage play of existence. It’s Oppression 101: find a bad guy, and if you can’t, make one up."

"Suffering isn’t atonement."

"“Don’t fear pain, Dymek,” he said. “Fear…losing your purpose, losing your family, losing yourself. Those things are worse than pain.”"

"“You want me to be jealous?” “Can you blame me for being curious what it feels like?” Niko smiles a little. “I am what I am, after all.” “Some people would call that a red flag.” “The fact that I can turn into a deadly monster in an instant should be a much bigger, redder flag.”"

"One of the great lies humanity tells is that time produces wisdom. Oh, Ala will concede that time creates more opportunities for a person to become wise, but it’s hardly a guarantee."

"He feels like there’s a hand tugging him back toward the house where Dymitr is being tortured by people who claim to love him. But they don’t love him, Niko thinks. Because if love doesn’t allow change, then what the fuck is that love worth?"

"“Kristin, nothing ever does change.” I jerked a thumb back at the crowd outside. “You’ll always have morons like that, swallowing belief patterns whole so they don’t have to think for themselves. You’ll always have people like Kawahara and the Bancrofts to push their buttons and cash in on the program. People like you to make sure the game runs smoothly and the rules don’t get broken too often. And when the Meths want to break the rules themselves, they’ll send people like Trepp and me to do it. That’s the truth, Kristin. It’s been the truth since I was born a hundred and fifty years ago, and from what I read in the history books, it’s never been any different. Better get used to it.”"

"“Whatever. If Carnegie wakes up not knowing, he might make some private inquiries, but he ain’t going to be in too much of a hurry to let the police department in on it. And if he wakes up knowing—” He spread his hands. “—he’ll make less noise than a Catholic orgasm.”"

"“You’re an Envoy, Kovacs. You live by manipulation. We all do. We all live in the great manipulation matrix, and it’s just one big struggle to stay on top.” I shook my head. “I didn’t ask to be dealt in.” “Kovacs, Kovacs.” Kawahara’s expression was suddenly almost tender. “None of us ask to be dealt in. You think I asked to be born in Fission City, with a web-fingered dwarf for a father and a psychotic whore for a mother? You think I asked for that? We’re not dealt in, we’re thrown in, and after that it’s just about keeping your head above water.”"

"“I tried for the Envoys once,” Trepp said suddenly. I glanced sideways at her, curious. “Yeah?” “Yeah, long time ago. They rejected me on profile. No capacity for allegiance, they said.” I grunted. “Figures. You were never in the military were you?” “What do you think? She was looking at me as if I’d just suggested she might have a history of child-molesting. I chuckled tiredly. “Thought not. See, the thing is, they’re looking for borderline psychopathic tendencies. That’s why they do most of their recruiting from the military in the first place.” Trepp looked put out. “I’ve got borderline psychopathic tendencies.” “Yeah, I don’t doubt it, but the point is, the number of civilians with those tendencies and a sense of team spirit is pretty limited. They’re opposing values. The chances of them both arising naturally in the same person are almost nil. Military training takes the natural order and fucks with it. It breaks down any resistance to psychopathic behavior at the same time as it builds fanatical loyalties to the group. Package deal. Soldiers are perfect Envoy material.”"

"I paused and set down my glass, searching for the fine edge of deceit that always lies right up against the truth."

"This was no time for thinking. Thought in combat was a luxury about as appropriate as a hot bath and massage."

"“You’re not corporate,” she said definitely. “Corporates don’t do this stuff. Not like this.” “The corporates do whatever turns a profit. Don’t let your prejudices blind you. Sure, they’ll burn down entire villages if it pays. But if having a human face is what cuts it, they’ll whip out a human face and put it on.”"

"Whatever world it is, whatever you’ve done there for better or worse, you always leave the same way. Alone."

"“I’d rather you didn’t smoke in here.” “Kawahara, I’d rather you died of an internal hemorrhage, but I don’t suppose you’ll oblige me.”"

"“You’re being a lot less courteous than befits a man in your situation.” I thought that underneath the cool I could detect a ragged edge in her voice. Despite her much vaunted self-control, Reileen Kawahara wasn’t much better at coping with disrespect that Bancroft, General MacIntyre, or any other creature of power I’d had dealings with. “Your life is in danger, and I am in a position to safeguard it.” “My life’s been in danger before,” I told her. “Usually as a result of some piece of shit like you making large-scale decisions about how reality ought to be run.”"

"“Petty tyrant a long time back. He built this place.” “Trepp said it belonged to the Catholics.” Kawahara shrugged. “Petty tyrant with delusions of religion. Catholics get on well with tyranny. It’s in the culture.”"

"The essence of control is to remain hidden from view, is it not?"

"She held her discarded shoulder holster dangling in one hand, and her breasts moved beneath the thin cotton of a white T-shirt that bore the legend YOU HAVE THE RIGHT TO REMAIN SILENT—WHY DON’T YOU TRY IT FOR A WHILE?"

"Bancroft wants privacy, he spends half a million on discretion systems. Me, I just go talk where no one’s listening."

"I’m stacked, backed up and I’m fifth dan And I’m not afraid of the Patchwork Man"

"Just as a primitive sextant functions on the illusion that the sun and stars rotate around the planet we are standing on, our senses give us the illusion of stability in the universe, and we accept it, because without that acceptance, nothing can be done. Virginia Vidaura, pacing the seminar room, lost in lecture mode. But the fact that a sextant will let you navigate accurately across an ocean does not mean that the suns and stars do rotate are us. For all that we have done, as a civilization, as individuals, the universe is not stable, nor is any single thing within it. Stars consume themselves, the universe itself rushes apart, and we ourselves are composed of matter in constant flux. Colonies of cells in temporary alliance, replicating and decaying, and housed within, an incandescent cloud of electrical impulse and precariously stacked carbon code memory. This is reality, this is self-knowledge, and the perception of it will, of course, make you dizzy."

"“The human eye is a wonderful device,” I quoted from Poems and Other Prevarications absently. “With a little effort, it can fail to see even the most glaring injustice.”"

"We are, after all, evolved to relate to the physical world."

"They were cold, professionally polished, and well on their way up a career ladder that would ensure that despite the uniforms they wore, they would never have to come within a thousand kilometers of a genuine firefight. The only problem they had, as they cruised sharkishly back and forth across the cool marble floor of the court, was in drawing the fine differences between war—mass murder of people wearing a uniform not your own; justifiable loss—mass murder of your own troops, but with substantial gains; and criminal negligence—mass murder of your own troops, without appreciable benefit."

"The past is relevant only as data."

"Naturally these penalties were applicable only to private citizens, not military commanders or government executives. The powerful are jealous of their toys."

"Like Bancroft, MacIntyre had been a man of power, and like all men of power, when he talked of prices worth paying, you could be sure of one thing. Someone else was paying."

"Money doesn’t automatically mean taste."

"“Bay City public prosecutor’s office wants to subpoena a Catholic who’s in storage. Pivotal witness. The Vatican says she’s already dead, and in the hands of God. They’re calling it blasphemy.” “I see. So your loyalties are pretty undivided here.” She stopped and turned to face me. “Kovacs, I hate these goddamn freaks. They’ve been grinding us down for the best part of two and a half thousand years. They’ve been responsible for more misery than any other organization in history. You know they won’t even let their adherents practice birth control, for Christ’s sake, and they’ve stood against every significant medical advance of the last five centuries.”"

"When I was younger I used to go out looking for squalid brawls in the streets of Newpest. This got a couple of people stabbed, neither of them me, and led in turn to my apprenticeship in one of the Harlan’s World gangs, Newpest chapter. Later on I upgraded this kind of retreat by joining the military: brawling with a purpose, and with more extensive weaponry, but as it turned out, just as squalid. I don’t suppose I should have been as surprised as I was—the only thing the Marine Corps recruiter had really wanted to know was how many fights I had won."

"Anyone who bar-codes their employees isn’t likely to be the forgiving type, and the reflex of long-held obedience through hierarchy is usually enough to overcome fear of a combat death. That’s how you fight wars, after all—with soldiers who are more afraid of stepping out of line than they are of dying on the battlefield."

"Society is, always has been and always will be a structure for the exploitation and oppression of the majority through systems of political force dictated by an élite, enforced by thugs, uniformed or not, and upheld by a wilful ignorance and stupidity on the part of the very majority whom the system oppresses."

"The personal, as everyone’s so fucking fond of saying, is political. So if some idiot politician, some power player, tries to execute policies that harm you or those you care about, take it personally. Get angry. The Machinery of Justice will not serve you here—it is slow and cold, and it is theirs, hardware and soft-. Only the little people suffer at the hands of Justice; the creatures of power slide out from under with a wink and a grin. If you want justice, you will have to claw it from them. Make it personal. Do as much damage as you can. Get your message across. That way you stand a far better chance of being taken seriously next time. Of being considered dangerous. And make no mistake about this: being taken seriously, being considered dangerous, marks the difference—the only difference in their eyes—between players and little people. Players they will make deals with. Little people they liquidate. And time and again they cream your liquidation, your displacement, your torture and brutal execution with the ultimate insult that it’s just business, it’s politics, it’s the way of the world, it’s a tough life, and that it’s nothing personal. Well, fuck them. Make it personal."