Barrayar Quotes

“My home is not a place, it is people.”
― Lois McMaster Bujold, Barrayar

“But pain... seems to me an insufficient reason not to embrace life. Being dead is quite painless. Pain, like time, is going to come on regardless. Question is, what glorious moments can you win from life in addition to the pain?”
― Lois McMaster Bujold, Barrayar

“I don't want power. I just object to idiots having power over me.”
― Lois McMaster Bujold, Barrayar

“One step at a time,” Vorkosigan returned grimly, “I can walk around the world. Watch me.”
― Lois McMaster Bujold, Barrayar

“Welcome to Barrayar, son. Here you go: have a world of wealth and poverty, wrenching change and rooted history. Have a birth; have two. Have a name. Miles means "soldier," but don't let the power of suggestion overwhelm you. Have a twisted form in a society that loathes and fears the mutations that have been its deepest agony. Have a title, wealth, power, and all the hatred and envy they will draw. Have your body ripped apart and re-arranged. Inherit an array of friends and enemies you never made. Have a grandfather from hell. Endure pain, find joy, and make your own meaning, because the universe certainly isn't going to supply it. Always be a moving target. Live. Live. Live.”
― Lois McMaster Bujold, Barrayar

“Experience suggests it doesn't matter so much how you got here, as what you do after you arrive.”
― Lois McMaster Bujold, Barrayar

“Children might or might not be a blessing, but to create them and then fail them was surely damnation.”
― Lois McMaster Bujold, Barrayar

“One corner of his mouth crooked up, then the quirk vanished in a thoughtful pursing of his lips. "He's bisexual, you know." He took a delicate sip of his wine.
"Was bisexual," she corrected absently, looking fondly across the room. "Now he's monogamous."
Vordarian choked, sputtering.”
― Lois McMaster Bujold, Barrayar

“It’s not that I’m not upset; it’s just that I’m too tired to run up and down the corridor screaming.”
― Lois McMaster Bujold, Barrayar

“Suicidal glory is the luxury of the irresponsible.”
― Lois McMaster Bujold, Barrayar

“It’s a . . . transcendental act. Making life. . . . ‘By this act, I bring one death into the world.’ One birth, one death, and all the pain and acts of will between. . . . Our children change us . . . whether they live or not.”
― Lois McMaster Bujold, Barrayar

“There's all of us adults, and one of him. We ought to be able to keep up. Why do I feel like he has us outnumbered and surrounded?”
― Lois McMaster Bujold, Barrayar

“And what is your current complaint?"

I don't like Barrayar, I want to go home, my father-in-law wants to murder my baby, half my friends are running for their lives, and I can't get ten minutes alone with my husband, whom you people are consuming before my eyes, my feet hurt, my head hurts, my soul hurts...

It was all too complicated. The poor man just wanted something to put in his blank, not an essay.

"Fatigue," Cordelia managed at last.”
― Lois McMaster Bujold, Barrayar

“I was so afraid for you, I forgot to be afraid for your enemies. I should have remembered. Dear Captain.”
― Lois McMaster Bujold, Barrayar

“Our children change us . . . whether they live or not.”
― Lois McMaster Bujold, Barrayar

“The strangeness of the Barrayaran government system with all its unwritten customs, pressed on Cordelia not so much as first glance but gradually. And yet it seemed to work for them somehow. They made it work, pretending a government into existence.
Perhaps all governments were all consensus fictions at their hearts.”
― Lois McMaster Bujold, Barrayar

“Let me help. Rhymes with I love you, right?”
― Lois McMaster Bujold, Barrayar

“I'm sorry, Lady Vorkosigan. We'll simply have to begin at the beginning. Please bear with me. Do I understand correctly you've had some sort of female trouble?" No, most of my troubles have been with males.”
― Lois McMaster Bujold, Barrayar

“Are you saying I should run after her?”

“Crawl, actually, if I were you,” recommended Aral. “Crawl fast. Slither under her door, go belly-up, let her stomp on you till she gets it out of her system. Then apologize some more. You may yet save the situation.” Aral’s eyes were openly alight with amusement now.

“What do you call that? Total surrender?” said Kou indignantly.

“No. I’d call it winning.” His voice grew a shade cooler. “I’ve seen the war between men and women descend to scorched-earth heroics. Pyres of pride. You don’t want to go down that road. I guarantee it.”
― Lois McMaster Bujold, Barrayar

“Divide the infinite future into five-minute blocks, and take them one by one.”
― Lois McMaster Bujold, Barrayar

“Pain, like time, is going to come on regardless. Question is, what glorious moments can you win from life in addition to the pain?”
― Lois McMaster Bujold, Barrayar

“Cordelia – “Why so rough?”
Aral – “It’s very poor. It was the town center during the time Isolation. And it hasn’t been touched by renovation, minimal water, no electricity choked with refuse.”
“Mostly human,” added Peoter tartly.
“Poor?” Asked Cordelia bewildered. “No electricity? How can it be on the comm network?”
“It’s not of course,” answered Vorkosigan.
“Then how can anyone get their schooling?” Cordelia
“They don’t.”
Cordelia stared. “I don’t understand, how do they get their jobs?”
“A few escape to the service, the rest prey on each other mostly.” Vorkosigan regarded her face uneasily. “Have you no poverty on Beta colony?”
“Poverty? Well some people have more money than others, but no comm consuls…?”
Vorkosigan was diverted from his interrogation. “Is not owning a comm consul the lowest standard of living you can imagine?” He said in wonder.
“It’s the first article in the constitution! ‘Access to information shall not be abridged.’”
“Cordelia, these people barely have access to food, clothing and shelter. They have a few rags and cooking pots and squat in buildings that aren’t economical to repair or tear down yet with the wind whistling through the walls.”
“No air conditioning?”
“No heat in the winter is a bigger problem here.”
“I suppose so. You people don’t really have summer. How do they call for help when they are sick or hurt?”
“What help?” Vorkosigan was growing grim. “If they’re sick they either get well or die.”
“Die if we’re lucking” muttered Veoter.
“You’re not joking.” She stared back and forth between the pair of them. “Why, think of all the geniuses you must missing!”
“I doubt we must be missing very many from the Caravanceri.” Said Peoter dryly.
“Why not? They have the same genetic compliment as you.” Cordelia pointed out the – to her -obvious.
The Count went rigid. “My dear girl, they most certainly do not. My family has been Vor for nine generations.”
Cordelia raised her eyebrows. “How do you know if you didn’t have the gene-typing until 80 years ago?”
Both the guard commander and the footman were acquiring peculiar stuffed expressions. The footman bit his lip.
“Besides,” she pointed out reasonably, “If you Vor got around half as much as those histories I’ve been reading imply. 90% of the people on this planet must have Vor blood by now. Who knows who your relatives are on your father’s side.
Vorkosigan bit his napkin absently. His eyes gone crinkly with much the same expression as the footman and muttered, “Cordelia, you really can’t sit at the breakfast table and imply my ancestors were bastards. It’s a mortal insult here.”
“Where should I sit? Oh I’ll never understand.”
― Lois McMaster Bujold, Barrayar

“Where do you think the term ‘count’ came from, anyway?” “Earth, I thought. A pre-atomic—late Roman, actually—term for a nobleman who ran a county. Or maybe the district was named after the rank.” “On Barrayar, it is in fact a contraction of the term ‘accountant.’ The first ’counts were Varadar Tau’s—an amazing bandit, you should read up on him sometime—Varadar Tau’s tax collectors.” “All this time I thought it was a military rank! Aping medieval history.” “Oh, the military part came immediately thereafter, the first time the old goons tried to shake down somebody who didn’t want to contribute. The rank acquired more glamour later.”
― Lois McMaster Bujold, Barrayar

“She inhaled the complex odors, from vegetation, water vapor, industrial waste gases. Barrayar permitted an amazing amount of air dumping, as if . . . well, air was free, here. Nobody measured it; there were no air processing and filtration fees. Did these people even realize how rich they were? All the air they could breathe, just by stepping outdoors, taken for granted as casually as they took frozen water falling from the sky.”
― Lois McMaster Bujold, Barrayar

“Cordelia had a bad sense of all control escaping with it. She leaned forward, lowering her voice. “Do you know why Vorrutyer died?” He couldn’t help it; he tilted toward her, drawn in. “No . . .” “He tried to hurt Aral through me. I found that . . . annoying. I wish you would cease trying to annoy me, Count Vordarian; I’m afraid you might succeed.” Her voice fell further, almost to a whisper. “You should fear it, too.” His”
― Lois McMaster Bujold, Barrayar

“It’s a . . . transcendental act. Making life. . . I thought about it when I was carrying Miles. ‘By this act, I bring one death into the world.’ One birth, one death, and all the pain and acts of will between. . . . A Barrayaran sexual “accident” can start a chain of causality that doesn’t stop until the end of time. Our children change us . . . whether they live or not. Even though your child was chimerical this time, Drew was touched by that change, where you not?”
― Lois McMaster Bujold, Barrayar

“I am oath-sworn armsman to Count Piotr,” Bothari recited the obvious. He was watching her closely now, a weird smile tugging at one corner of his mouth. “Let me rephrase that. I know the official penalties for an armsman going AWOL are fearsome. But suppose—” “Milady.” He held up a hand; she paused in mid-breath. “Do you remember, back on the front lawn at Vorkosigan Surleau when we were loading Negri’s body into the lightflyer, when my Lord Regent told me to obey your voice as his own?” Cordelia’s brows went up. “Yes . . . ?” “He never countermanded that order.”
― Lois McMaster Bujold, Barrayar

“The base doctor had no charts; Cordelia’s medical records were of course all behind enemy lines in Vorbarr Sultana at present. He shook his head and keyed up a new form on his report panel. “I’m sorry, Lady Vorkosigan. We’ll simply have to begin at the beginning. Please bear with me. Do I understand correctly you’ve had some sort of female trouble?” No, most of my troubles have been with males. Cordelia bit her tongue.”
― Lois McMaster Bujold, Barrayar

“Desperately, Cordelia stuck her foot through the whatchamacallit foot-holder, stirrup, grabbed, and heaved. The saddle slid slowly around the horse’s belly, and Cordelia with it, till she was clinging underneath among a forest of horse legs. She fell to the ground with a thump and scrambled out of the way. The horse twisted its neck around and peered at her, in a dismay much milder than her own, then stuck its rubbery lips to the ground and began nibbling up weeds.”
― Lois McMaster Bujold, Barrayar

“The Emperor’s Birthday is the traditional end of the fiscal year, for each count’s district in relation to the Imperial government. In other words, it’s tax day, except—the Vor are not taxed. That would imply too subordinate a relationship to the Imperium. Instead, we give the Emperor a present.”
― Lois McMaster Bujold, Barrayar