Robbie > Robbie's Quotes

“But why should we have to be useful and for what reason? Who divided the world into useless and useful, and by what right? Does a thistle have no right to life, or a Mouse that eats the grain in a warehouse? What about Bees and Drones, weeds and roses? Whose intellect can have had the audacity to judge who is better, and who worse? A large tree, crooked and full of holes, survives for centuries without being cut down, because nothing could possibly be made out of it. This example should raise the spirits of people like us. Everyone knows the profit to be reaped from the useful, but nobody knows the benefit to be gained from the useless.”
― Olga Tokarczuk, Drive Your Plow Over the Bones of the Dead

“A road's just an opinion about which way to go.”
― Rudy Rucker, Million Mile Road Trip

“Of all words, none more purely distills the futility of human hope, mortal dreams. Did we but know the end is foreordained and soon, who could go on making such tender plans—someday I shall run my fingers through my lover’s hair—when the very next step we take shall pitch us into the sinkhole, there to be crushed to nothingness, smothered in an instant, by a thousand tonnes of earth? “Someday.” Ha!”
― Kai Ashante Wilson, The Sorcerer of the Wildeeps

“Gurov thought how in reality everything is beautiful in this world when one reflects: everything except what we think or do ourselves when we forget our human dignity and the higher aims of our existence.”
― Anton Chekhov, The Lady with the Little Dog

“Imagine how unbearably, how unutterably cold the Universe would be if one were all alone ...”
― Terry Bisson, They're Made Out of Meat

“I’ll never figure out if I’m supposed to let worry get the best of me,” she said. “Because I don’t want to fall off a cliff but I don’t want to risk never looking over the edge.”
― Margaret Killjoy, A Country of Ghosts

“War is a way to kill those who least deserve death, and enrich those who least deserve life.”
― Seth Dickinson, The Monster Baru Cormorant

“I want to be firm that the idea of the traditional itself is highly constructed and highly ideological. This version is one among many. There is no original, only endless multiple trails that point into the past. We can never grasp that past. These stories are always about the present.”
― Larissa Lai, When Fox is a Thousand

“Oh yes. Some people are just more . . . edible than others if you are a tiger.”
― Nghi Vo, When the Tiger Came Down the Mountain

“If you can see a thing whole," he said, "it seems that it's always beautiful. Planets, lives. . . . But close up, a world's all dirt and rocks. And day to day, life's a hard job, you get tired, you loose the pattern. You need distance, interval. The way to see how beautiful earth is, is to see it from the moon. The way to see how beautiful life is, is from the vantage point of death."
"That's all right for Urras. Let it stay off there and be the moon-I don't want it! But I am not going to stand up on a gravestone and look down on life and say, 'O lovely!' I want to see it whole right in the middle of it, here, now. I don't give a hoot for eternity."
"It's nothing to do with eternity," said Shevek, grinning, a thin shaggy man of silver and shadow. "All you have to do to see life as a whole is to see it as mortal. I'll die, you'll die; how could we love each other otherwise? The sun's going to burn out, what else keeps it shining?"
"Ah! your talk, your damned philosophy!"
"Talk? It's not talk. It's not reason. It's hand's touch. I touch the wholeness, I hold it. Which is moonlight, which is Takver? How shall I fear death? When I hold it, when I hold in my hands the light-"
"Don't be propertarian," Takver muttered.
"Dear heart, don't cry."
"I'm not crying. You are. Those are your tears."
"I'm cold. The moonlight's cold."
"Lie down."
A great shiver went through his body as she took him in her arms.
"I'm afraid, Takver," he whispered.”
― Ursula K. Le Guin, The Dispossessed: An Ambiguous Utopia

“It’s too late. He’s already learned how not to drown.”
― Celeste Ng, Everything I Never Told You

“There was perhaps no other school in the greater Melbourne area, perhaps no other school in Australia, that had so many children of war. Some shy, some loud, some laughing, some quiet—and every one of them on a hair trigger. Every one of them swallowing barrels and buckets of the wrath, frustration, grief, and shame that other Year 6 students sipped in juice-box amounts.”
― E. Lily Yu, On Fragile Waves

“Anyone can suffer. But joy--that's hard. Ask about joy.”
― E. Lilly Yu, On Fragile Waves

“Tomorrow is tomorrow. Over there is over there. And here and now is not a bad place and time to be, especially when so much of the unknown is beautiful.”
― Ryka Aoki, Light from Uncommon Stars

“She has listened to the bells, and the organ, and the calls to prayer. And yet, despite it all, she has never understood the appeal. How does a ceiling bring you closer to heaven? If God is so large, why build walls to hold Him in?”
― V.E. Schwab, The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue

“déjà vu. déjà su. déjà vecu.”
― V.E. Schwab, The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue

“Mystery bores me. It chores me. I know what happens and so do you. It's the machinations that wheel us there that aggravate, perplex, interest, and astound me.”
― Markus Zusak, The Book Thief

“One doesn't expect a falcon to pull a plow, or a butterfly to cook your breakfast.”
― Katherine Blake, The Interior Life

“Pride and resentment are not indigenous to the human heart; and perhaps it is due to the gardener's innate love of the exotic that we take such pains to make them thrive.”
― Hope Mirrlees, Lud-in-the-Mist

“How does one hate a country, or love one? Tibe talks about it; I lack the trick of it. I know people, I know towns, farms, hills and rivers and rocks, I know how the sun at sunset in autumn falls on the side of a certain plowland in the hills; but what is the sense of giving a boundary to all that, of giving it a name and ceasing to love where the name ceases to apply? What is love of one's country; is it hate of one's uncountry? Then it's not a good thing. Is it simply self-love? That's a good thing, but one mustn't make a virtue of it, or a profession... Insofar as I love life, I love the hills of the Domain of Estre, but that sort of love does not have a boundary-line of hate. And beyond that, I am ignorant, I hope.”
― Ursula K. Le Guin, The Left Hand of Darkness

“A partner must be biologically interesting, attractive to us, and you are fascinating. You are horror and beauty in rare combination. In a very real way, you've captured us, and we can't escape. But you're more than only the composition and the workings of your bodies. You are your personalities, your cultures.”
― Octavia E. Butler, Dawn

“And school isn’t the same as theatre,” said Xavier, gazing round the building. “In a classroom you can talk this stuff through, interrogate it, contextualize it, and so on. You can’t do that here. There’s no pop-up footnotes to explain the subtext while the story is happening in front of you. That’s different. Makes it feel…real. Or at least endorsed: like, this is how it is and we’re not going to explain it. Study it critically by all means, talk about it, but don’t stage Othello and expect me to just sit there and drink it in, okay? Not gonna happen. Not Othello, and not The Merchant of Venice.”
― A.J. Hartley, Burning Shakespeare

“You expect heroes to survive terrible things. If you give them a medal, then you don't ever have to ask why the terrible thing happened in the first place. Or try to fix it.”
― T. Kingfisher, A Wizard’s Guide to Defensive Baking

“The human psyche evolved in order to defend itself against seeing the truth. To prevent us from catching sight of the mechanism. The psyche is our defense system - it makes sure we'll never understand what's going on around us. Its main task is to filter information, even though the capabilities of our brains are enormous. For it would be impossible for us to carry the weight of this knowledge. Because every tiny particle of the world is made of suffering.”
― Olga Tokarczuk, Prowadź swój pług przez kości umarłych

“Newspapers rely on keeping us in a constant state of anxiety, on diverting our emotions away from the things that really matter to us. Why should I yield to their power and let them tell me what to think?”
― Olga Tokarczuk, Drive Your Plow Over the Bones of the Dead

“just like people, life was terribly complicated and confusing, and never quite what one expected, or even what one believed it to be. And it could be sharp and painful and raw, but it was also wonderful and beautiful and full of astonishing things, so maybe that was alright. Maybe that was exactly as it should be.”
― Kim M. Watt, A Manor of Life & Death

“How do you ruin a people? Is it with fire? Is it with bullets? You can drag a man through the street tied to the back of a horse. You can incinerate a village. Can line families up in rows against a brick wall and fell them, one by one, like a forest. But all it takes is one survivor, and the story lives on. One survivor to carry the poems and the songs, the prayers, the sorrows. It isn’t just taking a life that destroys a people. It’s taking their history.”
― GennaRose Nethercott, Thistlefoot

“When people believe in something, believe in it so much that it informs their life and death, it may as well exist because it's changing the physical world. At that point, it doesn't matter whether God is real or not. The belief, and the action that follows belief, makes the story true and alters the world to match.”
― GennaRose Nethercott, Thistlefoot

“If a story does its job, it doesn't ever end. Not really. But it can change. This is the nature of folktales. They shift to fit each teller. Take whatever form suits the bearer best. What begins as a story of sorrow can be acknowledged, held like a sweetheart to the chest, rocked and sung to. And then it can be set down to sleep. It can become an offering. A lantern. An ember to lead you through the dark.”
― GennaRose Nethercott, Thistlefoot

“Sometimes,” Nina clarified, “everybody tells you something because they are everybody. But why should one listen to everybody? Did everybody write the Odyssey? Did everybody write the Aeneid?” She shook her head then concluded definitively: “The only difference between everybody and nobody is all the shoes.”
― Amor Towles, A Gentleman in Moscow