“Gar taldin ni jaonyc; gar sa buir, ori'wadaasla. (Nobody cares who your father was, only the father you'll be.) - Mandalorian saying”
“If we were given one word of information in our entire history, how we'd treasure it! how we'd pore over ever syllable, divining it's meaning, arguing its importance; how we'd examine it and wring every lesson we could from it. Yet today we have trillions of words, tidal waves of information and the smallest detail of every action our government and businesses take is easily available to us at the touch of a button. And yet...we ignore it, and learn nothing from it. One day we'll die of voluntary ignorance ”
“Vau: "We were having a philosophical discussion, as Mandalorians often do, and I asserted that the only demonstrable reality was individual consciousness, but he insisted on the existence of a priori moral values that transcended free will. So I hit him."
Zey: "You think you're so witty."
Vau: "No, I think you should stay out of Mando clan business.”
“Oh, you are a little ray of sunshine today, aren’t you? Now, look at your progesterone levels. Still higher than normal. Are you pregnant? Have you been throwing up?”
“No. But I get cravings. Will I get stretch marks?” said Fi.
Gilamar kept a straight face. “Yeah, say goodbye to your figure. Everything sags from now on.”
“Maze: “I’m alerting HQ. Stand by.”
*on the private comlink*
Corr: “How are you Omega? Can we help? We’re really concerned that you’re stranded on a shabla rock surrounded by an infinite number of natives who’ll cut your gett’se off when they haul you screaming from the summit.”
“Family took a lot more than genes to hold it together”
“Prep for docking,” said the pilot’s voice over the intercom. “You’re off watch, and I’m not, you barves …” “Shower, food, sleep,” said Darman, prioritizing. Atin shook his head. “Food, shower, sleep.” “Sleep,” said Niner. “Then more sleep.” They looked at Corr. “Glorious revolution, then installing a military junta,” he said. Etain stared, not at all sure about his hidden depths, but he laughed. “Or a nice big plate of minced roba patties. I’m easy.”
“Covering his tracks by randomizing his route back to the apartment had become routine for Skirata now, which was a bizarre irony in itself.”
“It’s entirely possible that the Jedi’s increasingly clouded vision was the result of their own moral degeneration. They’d let so many of their principles slip that the reason they couldn’t see the dark side was so close to them was the lack of sharp contrast with themselves, like trying to see a gray nerf in fog. They turned off the light themselves. —Bardan Jusik, former Jedi Knight Kyrimorut,”
“she worried that Jedi raised other Jedi in a constant soulless cycle of detached, cold indifference,”
“savored the bizarre moment of epiphany; he had a sister, of sorts. And he had a wife, too, and a father, a legal one, and he had brothers. He was like any other man. The out-of-reach normal life that had tormented him was now fully his. It was wonderful, even if very few beings had a family as strife-prone, heavily armed, and bizarre as this. “But he never forgets his kids.” “I always knew he’d come back.”
“I thought you went out with the guys,” Shea said, scrolling down his list.
“Nah, thought you needed to talk.” Shea looked up, confused.
“Huh?”
“You know, talk, where your mouth moves and words come out.”
“Shut up, asshole, I know what talking is. I just don’t know why I need to talk.”
“Xas was whiteskinned, smooth. Even his mouth was pale, more blurred than coloured, like a wine stain wiped on the mouth of a statue. But Xas was no statue. Sobran could see his blood moving, a vein in the angel's neck that pulsed, and with each pulse variations of brightness in his skin, like cloud shadows passing across a wheat field, each pass of light a surprise. Where his skin was worked, the calluses on his hands, it was the same fleshy rose as the nipples of a darkhaired girl who has never suckled a child.”
“Being a nerd, which is to say going too far and caring too much about a subject, is the best way to make friends I know. For me, the spark that turns an acquaintance into a friend has usually been kindled by some shared enthusiasm . . . At fifteen, I couldn't say two words about the weather or how I was doing, but I could come up with a paragraph or two about the album Charlie Parker with Strings. In high school, I made the first real friends I ever had because one of them came up to me at lunch and started talking about the Cure.”
“Lo que no está en mi corazón, no lo escribirá mi pluma.”
“Win opened a leather-bound first-edition false front bookcase to reveal a refrigerator. He grabbed a Yoo-hoo chocolate drink and tossed it to Myron. Myron caught it, and reading the directions—“Shake It!”—did just that. Win opened the decanter and poured himself an exclusive cognac called, interestingly enough, The Last Drop. “I”
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