"“The probabilities would now seem to lean that way,” agreed Millisor. “I doubt everything, you see.” Ethan thought this over. “Encountering the truth must be horribly confusing for you, then.” Millisor’s lips twitched dryly. “Fortunately, it happens very seldom.”"

"Ethan had never found himself clinging to a cusp of human history. The trouble with the position, he found, was that in whatever direction you looked there fell away a glassy, uncontrollable slide down to a strange future you would then have to live in. He had never wanted to pray more, nor been less sure that it would do any good."

"A fool is twice a fool who tries to conceal it."

"Innocence might be bliss, but ignorance was demonstrably hell."

"Life with women did not just induce strange behavior, it appeared; it induced very strange behavior."

"Quinn ignored the admonition with a verve bordering, Ethan thought, on the anti-social."

"As long as I’m going to commit a crime, let it be a perfect one."

"There are always survivors at a massacre. Among the victors, if nowhere else."

"Some places have religion. Here we have safety drills."

"The rest of the universe was disappointing at first glance."

"Women. Uterine replicators with legs, as it were."

"“Good luck,” snorted Ivan. “Luck is something you make for yourself, if you want it.”"

"“Do you know what this is, Lord Vorkosigan?” Giaja asked. Miles eyed the medallion of the Order of Merit on its colored ribbon, glittering on a bed of velvet. “Yes, sir. It is a lead weight, suitable for sinking small enemies. Are you going to sew me into a silk sack with it, before you throw me overboard?”"

"“How did your mother cope, Lord Vorkosigan?” “You mean, being an egalitarian Betan and all? No problem. She says egalitarians adjust to aristocracies just fine, as long as they get to be the aristocrats.”"

"“The best strategies run on rails like that.” Miles pointed out. “Live or die, you make your goal.”"

"Vorreedi, Miles reminded himself, was Intelligence, not Counter-intelligence; curiosity, not paranoia, was his driving force."

"Behavior that is rewarded is repeated. And the reverse."

"You can’t give power away and keep it simultaneously. Except posthumously."

"Lord X was a tyrant, not a revolutionary. He wanted to take over the system, not change it."

"In my experience, milady, we can never get back to exactly where we started, no matter how hard we try."

"Rian seemed less and less like a damsel in distress all the time. In fact, he was beginning to wonder if he was trying to rescue the dragon."

"Vorreedi stated dangerously, “I am not a mushroom, Lieutenant Vorkosigan.” To be kept in the dark and fed on horseshit, right. Miles sighed inwardly."

"“So use your initiative!” “I don’t have initiative. I follow orders, thank you. It’s much safer.” “Fine, I order you to use your initiative.”"

"“Connection? What possible connection?” “We are the connection, Ivan. A couple of Barrayaran backcountry boys come to the big city, and ripe for the plucking. Somebody is using us. And I think somebody... has just made a major mistake in his choice of tools.” Or fools."

"“No battle plan survives first contact with the enemy.” Not when the enemy is me."

"He knew now why they called it “falling in love.” There was the same nauseating vertigo of free fall, the same vast exhilaration, the same sick certainty of broken bones upon impact with a rapidly rising reality."

"All in all, it was probably a good thing these youths had no political interests. They were just the sort of people who started revolutions but could not finish them, their idealism betrayed by their incompetence."

"“Do me the honor of grasping that I may just possibly know what I’m doing!” I wish to hell I knew what I was doing. Intuition was nothing but the subconscious processing of subliminal clues, he was fairly sure, but I feel it in my bones made too uncomfortably thin a public defense for his actions."

"“Hands are to be hired. Design is the test of the intellect.” “I must disagree. In my experience, hands are integral with brains, almost another lobe for intelligence. What one does not know through one’s hands, one does not truly know.”"

"Hi, I’m a hero, but I can’t tell you why. It’s classified."

"“Ensign Vorkosigan,” Illyan sighed. It seems you still have a little problem with subordination.” “I know, sir. I’m sorry.” “Do you ever intend to do anything about it besides feel sorry?” “I can’t help it, sir, if people give me the wrong orders.”"

"He leaned forward to put his elbows on the comconsole, and lace his fingers together, and regarded Miles with a kind of clinical disapproval, as if he were a data point that messed up the curve, and Illyan was deciding if he could still save the theory by re-classifying him as experimental error."

"The arrow of justice flies one way."

"“I’m afraid of power…” Gregor’s voice went low, contemplative. “You aren’t afraid of power, you’re afraid of hurting people. If you wield that power,” Miles deduced suddenly. “Huh. Close guess.” “Not dead-on?” “I’m afraid I might enjoy it. The hurting.”"

"She could be the only person on Barrayar to automatically put Gregor the man before Gregor the emperor. All our ranks look like optical illusions to her, I think."

"Beware of wishing for justice. You might get it."

"Home is where, when you have to go there, they have to take you in."

"Rule 1: Only overrule the tactical computer if you know something it doesn’t. Rule 2: The tac comp always knows more than you do."

"“Damn,” said Elena in a hushed voice. “If I didn’t know you, I’d think you were Mad Yuri’s understudy. The look on your face…am I reading too much into all that innuendo, or did you in fact just connive to assassinate Gregor in one breath, offer to cuckold him in the next, accuse your father of homosexuality, suggest a patricidal plot against him, and league yourself with Cavilo—what are you going to do for an encore?” “Depends on the straight lines. I can hardly wait to find out,” Miles panted. “Was I convincing?” “You were scary.” “Good.”"

"It could be worse was always an unassailable assertion."

"“Think of the glory. Think of your reputation. Think how great it’ll look on your next resume.” “On my cenotaph, you mean. Nobody will be able to collect enough of my scattered atoms to bury. You’re going to cover my funeral expenses, son?” “Splendidly. Banners, dancing girls, and enough beer to float your coffin to Valhalla.” Tung sighed. “Make it plum wine to float the boat, eh? Drink the beer.”"

"I don’t think I’m destined to die today. I must be being saved for day after tomorrow."

"“Is she pretty?” “Yeah, if you happen to like blond power-mad homicidal maniacs, I suppose she could be quite overwhelming.”"

"“Face like an angel, mind like a rabid mongoose?” Oser’s lips twitched very slightly. “You’ve met her.”"

"I may be small, but I screw up big because I’m standing on the shoulders of GIANTS."

"“The key of strategy, little Vor,” she explained kindly, “is not to choose a path to victory, but to choose so that all paths lead to a victory.”"

"There is no moral difference between ordering an execution, and carrying it out."

"War is not its own end, except in some catastrophic slide into absolute damnation. It’s peace that’s wanted. Some better peace than the one you started with."

"Yes, well…actual combat…is a lot stupider than I’d imagined. If two groups can cooperate to the incredible extent it takes to meet in battle, why not put in a tenth that effort to talk?"