Lois McMaster Bujold

“How did I get into this mess? Miles isn't even here. -Ivan”

“As the week wore on, Ivan contemplated the merits of inertia as a problem-solving technique with growing favor”

“Hunting hawks did not belong in cages, no matter how much a man coveted their grace, no matter how golden the bars. They were far more beautiful soaring free. Heartbreakingly beautiful.”

“I don’t duel, boy. I kill as a soldier kills, which is as a butcher kills, as quickly, efficiently, and with as least risk to myself as I can arrange.”

“The world demands I make good choices on no information, and then blames my maidenhood for my mistakes, as if my maidenhood were responsible for my ignorance. Ignorance is not stupidity, but it might as well be. And I do not like feeling stupid.”

“Forward momentum only worked as a strategy if one had correctly identified which way was forward.”

“Women do desperately need models for power other than the maternal.”

“It's a bizarre but wonderful feeling, to arrive dead center of a target you didn't even know you were aiming for.”

“I am not a fate worse than death, dammit!”

“I know what the value [of storytelling] is to me -- varied and huge, giving me everything from delight, to knowledge, to access to friends and colleagues, a desirable identity through valued work, escape from pain, and a steady income. Not bad, for something so intangible as making and selling dream-by-number kits.”

“Anything worth achieving is worth overachieving.”

“That civet-jasmine blend you're wearing tonight absolutely clashes with the third-level formal style of your dress, you know.”

“Too late, he recalled Miles's dictum that the reward for a job well done was usually a harder job.”

“Identity. That's my elephant. The thought came with certainty, without the question mark on the end this time. Not fame, exactly, though recognition was some kind of important cement for it. But what you were was what you did. And I did more, oh yes. If a hunger for identity were translated into, say, a hunger for food, he'd be a more fantastic glutton than Mark ever dreamed of being. Is it irrational, to want to be so much, to want so hard it hurts? And how much, then, was enough?”

“All great human deeds both consume and transform their doers. Consider an athlete,or a scientist, or an independent business creator. in service of their goals they lay down time and energy and many other choices and pleasures; in return, they become most truly themselves. A false destiny may be spotted by the fact that it consumes without transforming, without giving back the enlarged self. Becoming a parent is one of these basic human transformational deeds. By this act, we change our fundamental relationship with the universe- if nothing else, we lose our place as the pinnacle and end-point of evolution, and become a mere link. The demands of motherhood especially consume the old self, and replace it with something new, often better and wiser, sometimes wearier or disillusioned, or tense and terrified, certainly more self-knowing, but never the same again.”

“Anyway, if the Cetagandans really wanted to assassinate you, they'd hardly do it here. They'd slip something subtle under your skin that wouldn't go off for six months, and then would drop you mysteriously and untraceably in your tracks”

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

“Miles was…the thing is, he was afflicted with a severe birth injury. He grew up pretty much crippled, so he poured all his frustrated energy into his intellect. Since the Vorkosigan family motto might as well be, Anything worth achieving is worth overachieving, the effect was pretty frightening. And it worked for him, so he did it some more.”

“Emperors per se did not unnerve Miles . . . . Emperor Gregor had been raised along with Miles practically as his foster-brother; somewhere in the back of Miles's mind the term emperor was coupled with such identifiers as somebody to play hide-and-seek with. In this context those hidden assumptions could be a psychosocial land mine.”

“Miles added it to his life's lessons list. Call it Rule 27B. Never make key tactical decisions while having electro-convulsive seizures.”

“And this was your friend?" Cordelia raised her eyebrows. "Seems to me the only difference between your friends and your enemies is how long the stand around chatting before they shoot you.”

“Yes," Vorkosigan agreed, "I could take over the universe with this army if I could ever get all their weapons pointed in the same direction.”

“No, amusing me only, I wonder if they realize how they are used?""Not a bit. They think they are the emperors of creation.""Poor lambs.""That's not how I'd describe them.""I was thinking of animal sacrifice.""Ah. That's closer.”

“They stared at her curiously, and she caught snatches of conversation in two or three languages. It wasn't hard to guess their content, and she smiled a bit primly. Youth, it appeared, was full of illusions as to how much sexual energy two people might have to spare while hiking forty or so kilometers a day, concussed, stunned, diseased, on poor food and little sleep, alternating caring for a wounded man with avoiding becoming dinner for every carnivore within range - and with a coup to plan for the end.”

“Miles exhaled carefully, faint with rage and reminded grief. He does not know, he told himself. He cannot know... "Ivan, one of these days somebody is going to pull out a weapon and plug you, and you're going to die in bewilderment, crying, "What did I say? What did I say?""What did I say?" asked Ivan indignantly.”

“Growing up, I have discovered over time, is rather like housework: never finished.”

“The Imperial Service could win a war without coffee, but would prefer not to have to.”

“Well, it is a particular sin to permit grief for what is gone to poison the praise for what blessings remain to us.”

“It must be quite a shock to suddenly find out you're pregnant, seventeen times over—at your age, too.”

“Wait." He paused, and she held out a hand to him. His thick fingers engulfed her tapering ones; his skin was warm and dry, and scorched her. "Before we go pick up poor Lieutenant Illyan again..." He took her in his arms, and they kissed, for the first time, for a long time. "Oh," she muttered after. "Perhaps that was a mistake. It hurts so much when you stop." "Well, let me..." his hand stroked her hair, gently, then desperately wrapped itself in a shimmering coil; they kissed again.”

“Miles clutched Quinn's elbow. "Don't Panic.""I'm not panicking," Quinn observed, "I'm watching you panic. It's more entertaining .”

“It's an ancient and honorable term for the final step in any engineering project. Turn it on, see if it smokes.”

“You would -- you would take him into Your heaven, my lord?" asked Ingrey in astonishment and outrage. "He slew, not in defense of his own life, but in malice and madness. He tried to steal powers not rightly given to him. If I guess right, he plotted the death of his own brother. He would have raped Ijada, if he could, and killed again for his sport!" The Son held up his hands. Luminescent, they seemed, as if dappled by autumn sun reflecting off a stream into shade. "My grace flows from me as a river, wolf-lord. Would you have me dole it out in the exact measure that men earn, as from an apothecary's dropper? Would you stand in pure water to your waist, and administer it by the scant spoon to men dying of thirst on a parched shore?" Ingrey stood silent, abashed, but Ijada lifted her face, and said steadily, "No, my lord, for my part. Give him to the river. Tumble him down in the thunder of Your cataract. His loss is no gain of mine, nor his dark deserving any joy to me." The god smiled brilliantly at her. Tears slid down her face like silver threads: like benedictions. "It is unjust," whispered Ingrey. "Unfair to all who -- who would try to do rightly...." "Ah, but I am not the god for justice," murmured the Son. "Would you both stand before my Father instead?”

“I'm not getting it all sorted, she worried. I'm not getting it right.You are brilliant, the Voice reassured her.It is imperfect.So are all things trapped in time. You are brilliant, nonetheless. How fortunate for Us that We thirst for glorious souls rather than faultless ones, or We should be parched indeed, and most lonely in Our perfect righteousness. Carry on imperfectly, shining Ista.”

“Colonel Otto, do you have a, perhaps, fuller and more detailed account than your preliminary one of why my Imperial Security building is now largely an underground installation? From a technical perspective.”

“Poets speak of hope in ladies smiles, but give me a smirk any day, I say.”

“Your father calls you to his court. You need not pack. You go garbed in glorious raiment. He waits eagerly by his palace doors to welcome you, and has prepared a place at the high table, by his side, in the company of the great-souled, honored, and best-beloved.”

“Lately I have come to believe that the principle difference between Heaven and Hell is the company you keep there....”

“Cute-and-furry was always an easier sell than carapaced-and-multilegged, for some obscure reason. Grownups, so unreasonable...”

“Miles leaned forward and spoke earnestly into the secure holovid recorder. "I just want you to know, Gregor, that if the planet melts down over all this, it wasn't my fault. The trip-wire was laid long before I stumbled across it.”

“Have you ever heard the phrase, Living well is the best revenge?""Where I come from, someone's head in a bag is generally considered the best revenge”

“Realize this, though. Half my genes run through your body, and my selfish genome is heavily evolutionarily pre-programmed to look out for its copies. The other half is copied from the man I admire most in all the worlds and time, so my interest is doubly riveted. The artistic combination of the two, shall we say, arrests my attention.”

“Mia Maz glanced aside in concern at his muffled snort. "Are you all right?""Yes. Sorry," he whispered. "I'm just having an attack of limericks."Her eyes widened, and she bit her lip; only her deepening dimple betrayed her. "Shhh," she said, with feeling.”

“Not that I haven't leaped up into the blinding light of competence now and then. It's sustaining the altitude that defeats me.”

“I know girls who pine for it. They like to play dress-up and pretend being Vor ladies of old, rescued from menace by romantic Vor youths. For some reason they never play 'dying in childbirth', or 'vomiting your guts out from the red dysentery', or 'weaving till you go blind and crippled from arthritis and dye poisoning', or 'infanticide'. Well, they do die romantically of disease sometimes, but somehow it's always an illness that makes you interestingly pale and everyone sorry and doesn't involve losing bowel control.”

“A true Vor, Miles told himself severely, does not bury his face in his liegewoman's breasts and cry—even if he is at a convenient height for it.”

“On the sixth day God saw He couldn't do it all, so He created ENGINEERS”

“What you are is a question only you can answer.”

“It was suicide, wasn't it?""In an involuntary sort of way," said Vorob'yev. "These Cetagandan political suicides can get awfully messy, when the principal won't cooperate.""Thirty-two stab wounds in the back, worst case of suicide they ever saw?" murmured Ivan, clearly fascinated by the gossip."Exactly, my lord.”

“Aim high. You may still miss the target, but at least you won't shoot your foot off.”