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| Link | Quote | Stars | Tags | Author |
| 06eb24e | Where, then, is Truth?" declaimed Bedap, and yawned. "In the hill one happens to be sitting on," said Tirin." | Ursula K. Le Guin | ||
| 7b800ef | 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 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?" | Ursula K. Le Guin | ||
| 434d723 | The sun itself was hidden, but there was a glitter on the horizon, almost like the dazzle of the crystal walls of the Undertomb, a kind of joyous shimmering off on the edge of the world. "What is that?' the girl said, and he: "The sea." | sea vista | Ursula K. Le Guin | |
| 275d4e3 | You are rich, you own. We are poor, we lack. You have, we do not have. Everything is beautiful here. Only not the faces. On Anarres nothing is beautiful, nothing but the faces. The other faces, the men and women. We have nothing but that, nothing but each other. Here you see the jewels, there you see the eyes. And in the eyes you see the splendor, the splendor of the human spirit. Because our men and women are free--possessing nothing, they.. | Ursula K. Le Guin | ||
| d968266 | for though only the society could give security and stability, only the individual, the person, had the power of moral choice--the power of change, the essential function of life. | Ursula K. Le Guin | ||
| b054d02 | The thing about working with time, instead of against it, he thought, is that it is not wasted. Even pain counts. | Ursula K. Le Guin | ||
| a578291 | He felt disinclined to move. To move would disturb the perfect, stable moment, the balance of the world. The winter light along the ceiling was beautiful beyond expression. He | Ursula K. Le Guin | ||
| 7be4644 | you're not a traitor, you've merely been the tool of one. I don't punish tools. They do harm only in the hands of a bad workman. | Ursula K. Le Guin | ||
| 6d5d7d9 | There are souls, he thought, who's umbilicus has never been cut. They never got weaned from the universe. They do not understand death as the enemy; they look forward to rotting and turning into humus. | Ursula K. Le Guin | ||
| 972e096 | Ernest Hemingway would have died rather than have syntax. Or semicolons. I use a whole lot of half-assed semicolons; there was one of them just now; that was a semicolon after "semicolons," and another one after "now." And" | Ursula K. Le Guin | ||
| c0ed1c1 | sentences aren't. They go on and on, all full of syntax and qualifying clauses and confusing references and getting old. And that brings up the real proof of what a mess I have made of being a man: I am not even young. Just about the time they finally started inventing women, I started getting old. And I went right on doing it. Shamelessly. I have allowed myself to get old and haven't done one single thing about it, with a gun or anything. .. | Ursula K. Le Guin | ||
| 2aaaaaf | I forgot, being too interested myself, that he's a king, and does not see things rationally, but as a king. All I've told him means to him simply that his power is threatened, his kingdom is a dust mote in space, his kingship is a joke to men who rule a hundred worlds. | Ursula K. Le Guin | ||
| b1ecbdf | Cured?" Goss said. "Would you cure a singer of his voice?" | Ursula K. Le Guin | ||
| 5c5884b | I asked if these two psychopaths could not be cured. "Cured?" Goss said. "Would you cure a singer of his voice?" | Ursula K. Le Guin | ||
| ce810b6 | The infinite possibility, the unlimited and unqualified wholeness of being of the uncommitted, the nonacting, the uncarved: the being who, being nothing but himself, is everything. | Ursula K. Le Guin | ||
| 0291168 | The sleeper dreamed. | Ursula K. Le Guin | ||
| 26539c7 | Justice, mercy, does Mars care for them? | Ursula K. Le Guin | ||
| 06ee2be | What is hard is to keep alive on a world you don't belong to. | Ursula K. Le Guin | ||
| 542d94d | Kirbaclarini, para ve yolculuk hakki icin kurekcilik yapanlarin sirtina hic indirmiyorlardi, ama kimisi kirbaclanan, kimisi de kirbaclanmayan bir murettebat arasinda pek arkadaslik ortami olusturulamazdi. | Ursula K. Le Guin | ||
| 76401a9 | Es algo terrible, esta bondad que los seres humanos nunca pierden. Terrible, porque cuando nos encontrabamos desnudos en la oscuridad, y helados, no teniamos otra cosa. Nosotros que somos tan capaces, tan fuertes, terminamos en eso. No nos queda otra cosa>>. | Ursula K. Le Guin | ||
| 8c45d95 | A warm body sighed in the darkness inside the little bright object balanced elegantly in the orbit of the moon. | Ursula K. Le Guin | ||
| e974b8b | The end justifies the means. But what if there never is an end? All we have is means. Orr | Ursula K. Le Guin | ||
| 086ebbc | So many of his problems were of a kind that other people did not understand, that he got used to working them out for himself, in silence. | Ursula K. Le Guin | ||
| ca43838 | He lost weight; he walked light on the earth. Lack of physical labour, lack of variety of occupation, lack of social and sexual intercourse, none of these appeared to him as lacks, but as freedom. | Ursula K. Le Guin | ||
| 96c19f4 | She touched his face and tied his hair back for him. Her hands were cool. He had never felt anything pleasanter in all his life than the touch of her hands. He reached out for her hand. She was not there, she had gone. | Ursula K. Le Guin | ||
| fdea3ae | He gave way to the fear that had come with her, the sense of the breaking of promises, the incoherence of Time. He broke. | Ursula K. Le Guin | ||
| 8109913 | 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 lose the pattern. You need distance, interval. The way to see how beautiful the earth is, is to see it as the moon. The way to see how beautiful life is, is from the vantage point of death." | Ursula K. Le Guin | ||
| 4322330 | Fulfillment, Shevek thought, is a function of time. The search for pleasure is circular, repetitive, atemporal. The variety seeking of the spectator, the thrill hunter, the sexually promiscuous, always ends in the same place. It has an end. It comes to the end and has to start over. It is not a journey and return, but a closed cycle, a locked room, a cell. | Ursula K. Le Guin | ||
| 20267f5 | It goes right back to the idea of the Power of Positive Thinking, which is so strong in America because it fits in so well with the Power of Commercial Advertising and with the Power of Wishful Thinking, aka the American Dream. | Ursula K. Le Guin | ||
| e15338d | Ultimately you write alone. | Ursula K. Le Guin | ||
| 3392694 | She had made these with scrap wire and tools from the craft supply depot, and called them Occupations of Uninhabited Space. | Ursula K. Le Guin | ||
| 8716ee2 | My use of their is socially motivated and, if you like, politically correct: a deliberate response to the socially and politically significant banning of our genderless pronoun by language legislators enforcing the notion that the male sex is the only one that counts. I consistently break a rule I consider to be not only fake but pernicious. I | Ursula K. Le Guin | ||
| 6756d16 | You won't be running marathons and lifting weights. You may have trouble getting up the stairs. You may have trouble just getting out of bed. You may have trouble getting used to hurting all the time. And it isn't likely to get better as the years go on. | Ursula K. Le Guin | ||
| 42a44f9 | The artist deals with what cannot be said in words. The artist whose medium is fiction does this in words. The novelist says in words what cannot be said in words. | Ursula K. Le Guin | ||
| f4b29af | In other ways my story didn't follow the tradition. Its subversive elements attracted little attention, no doubt because I was deliberately sneaky about them. A great many white readers in 1967 were not ready to accept a brown-skinned hero. But they weren't expecting one. I didn't make an issue of it, and you have to be well into the book before you realize that Ged, like most of the characters, isn't white. | Ursula K. Le Guin | ||
| e612a24 | Alas, I had no power, at that time, to combat the flat refusal of many cover departments to put people of color on a book jacket. So, through many later, lily-white Geds, Ruth Robbins's painting for the first edition--the fine, strong profile of a young man with copper-brown skin--was, to me, the book's one true cover. | Ursula K. Le Guin | ||
| 380275e | No era el quien hacia las cosas: las cosas lo hacian a el. Habia estado en manos de otra gente. La voluntad no habia actuado. No habia tenido necesidad de actuar. La voluntad habia estado en el comienzo, ella habia creado este momento y las paredes que ahora lo rodeaban. | español | Ursula K. Le Guin | |
| 5b9db34 | Be still!" the Head Isle-Man said roughly, for he knew, as did most of them, that a wizard may have subtle ways of telling the truth, and may keep the truth to himself, but that if he says a thing the thing is as he says." | Ursula K. Le Guin | ||
| 21c109d | Homer truly doesn't take sides, and so he permits the story to be tragic. By tragedy, mind and soul are grieved, enlarged, and exalted. | Ursula K. Le Guin | ||
| c57a528 | Lanet olsun!" dedi yuksek sesle. Pravca, kufur etmek icin iyi bir dil degildi. Cinsellik pis bir sey olmayinca, gunaha girme diye bir sey de olmayinca kufretmek zordur." | Ursula K. Le Guin | ||
| 805e753 | If piano is the opposite of forte, graceful chitchat with strangers is definitely my piano. | Ursula K. Le Guin | ||
| 293770c | I came away from both these concerts marveling that while our republic tears itself apart and our species frantically hurries to destroy its own household, yet we go on building with vibrations in the air, in the spirit--making this music, this intangible, beautiful, generous thing. | Ursula K. Le Guin | ||
| fa8c5bd | So God is dead, at least as a swearword, but hate and feces keep going strong. Le roi est mort, vive le fucking roi. | Ursula K. Le Guin | ||
| 9e5443a | What to make of a diminished thing? | Ursula K. Le Guin |