John Scalzi · 0 pages
Rating: (68.5K votes)
“We've already established whoever is writing us is an asshole.”
“I don't care whether I really exist or don't, whether I'm real or fictional. What I want right now is to be the person who decides my own fate.”
“In other words, crew deaths are a feature, not a bug," Cassaway said, dryly.”
“Who are you and what medications aren't you taking?" Finn said.”
“Sooner or later the Narrative will come for each of us.”
“But define 'completely ridiculous shit,'" Duvall said. "Does space travel count? Contact with alien races? Does quantum physics count? Because I don't understand that crap at all. As far as I'm concerned, quantum physics could have been written by a hack.”
“I thought I saw him once, but it turned out to be a yeti”
“Jesus," Kerensky said, looking around. "You people. I have one of the most incredible experiences I'll ever have, talking with the one person who really gets me - who really understands me - and you're all down here thinking I'm performing some sort of time-travelling incestuous masturbation thing.”
“You’ll notice that the Intrepid’s inertial dampeners don’t work as well in crisis situations, Dahl remembered Jenkins telling them. The ship could do hairpin turns and loop-de-loops any other time and you’d never notice. But whenever there’s a dramatic event, there goes your footing.”
“For all we know, this”—he scrolled up on the phone screen to find a label—“this Wikipedia information database here is compiled by complete idiots.”
“Is it a shark made of ice?" Hanoen asked. "Or a shark that lives in ice?”
“Is it good? It ain't Shakespeare, but then, Shakespeare wrote Titus Andronicus, so you tell me.”
“My characters were...rebelling against something...My own bad writing. I wouldn't do for my characters what they needed for me to do - be courageous enough in my writing to make them interesting.”
“Ensign Davis thought, Screw this, I want to live, and swerved to avoid the land worms. But then he tripped and one of the land worms ate his face and he died anyway.”
“Other science fiction shows had science advisers and consultants," Hanson pointed out.
"It's science fiction, " Weinstein said. "The second part of that phrase matters too."
"But you're making it bad science fiction," Hester said. "And we have to live in it.”
“Whether you're an extra or the hero, this story is about to end. When it's done, whatever you want to be will be up to you and only you. It will happen away from the eyes of any audience and from the hand of any writer. You will be your own man.”
“Q’eeng had just attempted in the third dialect the traditional rightward schism greeting of “I offer you the bread of life,” but his phrasing and accent had transmuted the statement into “Let us violate cakes together.”
“Filled with existential ennui about your place in the universe? Get over yourself. Yes, you're an inconsequential worm in the grand scope of history. But you're an inconsequential worm who makes shit up for a living, which means that you don't have to lift heavy boxes or ask people if they want fries with that. Grow up and get back to work.”
“Well, that's science fiction television for you, though," Abnett said. "Someone's got to be the red shirt.”
“I mean that you and I know that in this universe, God is a hack," he said. "He's a writer on an awful science fiction television show, and He can't plot His way out of a box. How do you have faith when you know that?”
“In one hand I have a restraining order, and in the other I have a Taser. Which would you like to meet first?”
“Okay, that's intensely interesting," Duvall said. "So you're a priest of the Forshan religion? Which schism?"
"The leftward schism, and no, not a priest."
"Couldn't handle the celibacy?"
"Leftward priests aren't required to be celibate," Dahl said, "but considering I was the only human at the seminary, I had celibacy thrust upon me, if you will."
"Some people wouldn't let that stop them," Duvall said.
"You haven't seen a Forshan seminary student up close," Dahl said. "Also, I don't swing xeno.”
“If knew you were going to drug me, kidnap me, and take me back to the dark ages with out my pants, I never would have slept with you.”
“When I was twelve, my appendix burst, and as they were wheeling my ass into the operating room, I asked the doctor, “How will this affect my piano playing?” and he said, “Don’t worry, you’ll still be able to play the piano,” and I said, “Wow! I wasn’t able to before!” And then they gassed me.”
“Yes, death by away team. Very effective on this ship,” Jenkins said.”
“Hide’ isn’t a word we like to use," Cassaway said. "‘Perform alternative tasks’ is the preferred term.”
“I don't think food safety laws are going to protect you from a third carnitas burrito," Hanson said. "That's not about food safety. It's about pork fat overload.”
“God is a hack,” he said. “He’s a writer on an awful science fiction television show, and He can’t plot His way out of a box. How do you have faith when you know that?”
“I don’t care whether I really exist or don’t, whether I’m real or fictional. What I want right now is to be the person who decides my own fate. That’s something I can work on. It’s what I’m working on now.”
“A fourth part of his brain was saying, This is the part where you run and scream a lot. He was listening to the fourth part.”
“Daphne, I don't think we're in Ferrypot Landing anymore.
~Sabrina Grimm”
“When she packed up to leave, she knew that she was saying goodbye to something important, which was not that bad, in a way, because it meant that at least you had said hello to it to begin with...”
“Written music is like nothing in the world—an index of time. The idea is so bizarre, it’s almost miraculous: fixed instructions on how to recreate the simultaneous. How to be a flow, both motion and instant, both stream and cross section.”
“Aunque creo que ellos también están enfermos: enfermos de miedo, enfermos de egoísmo. ¿Cómo pueden hacer las cosas que hacen sin odiarse a sí mismos?”
“What?” Eric shook his head. “Angel Moreno is into talking to chicks now? When did you turn into a total wuss?"
Angel shrugged, and took another bite of his food.
He avoided looking at Eric; suddenly not sure he wanted to talk about it. “I don’t know, dude, she’s just cool to hang with, I guess.”
Eric nodded, as if he got it. “So, you’re not into her? I thought she was pretty hot.”
“I’m into her, you ass, just ‘cause I didn’t bone her the first night. Not all girls are like that, you know.”
Eric grinned. “So, you did get shot down.”
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