Words bend our thinking to infinite paths of self-delusion, and the fact that we spend most of our mental lives in brain mansions built of words means that we lack the objectivity necessary to see the terrible distortion of reality which language brings.
Dan SimmonsMots clés language
Prison always has been a good place for writers, killing, as it does, the twin demons of mobility and diversion
Dan SimmonsA philosopher/mathematician named Bertrand Russell who lived and died in the same century as Gass once wrote: “Language serves not only to express thought but to make possible thoughts which could not exist without it.” Here is the essence of mankind’s creative genius: not the edifices of civilization nor the bang-flash weapons which can end it, but the words which fertilize new concepts like spermatazoa attacking an ovum.
Dan SimmonsIn twentieth-century Old Earth, a fast food chain took dead cow meat, fried it in grease, added carcinogens, wrapped it in petroleum-based foam, and sold nine hundred billion units. Human beings. Go figure.
Dan SimmonsMots clés fast-food
The life of a poet lies not merely in the finite language-dance of expression but in the nearly infinite combinations of perception and memory combined with the sensitivity to what is perceived and remembered. My three local years on Heaven’s Gate, almost fifteen hundred standard days, allowed me to see, to feel, to hear ─ to remember, as if I literally had been born again. Little matter that I had been born again in hell.
Dan SimmonsThey . . . are . . . so. . . sorry, ” she whispered. “The machine brings back no . . . pictures . . . only the food and air and water. It is programmed . . . as you suggested, Dem Lia . . . to eliminate infestations. They are . . . so . . . so . . . sorry for the loss of Ouster life. They offer the suicide of . . . of their species . . . if it would atone for the destruction.
Dan SimmonsWasn’t ‘Ms.’ an honorific for females back in pre-rubicon days?” asked Frome. “Some sort of honorary degree for not getting married or something?
Dan SimmonsWhy . . .” she begins. “Why do you want to climb it?”
“Because it’s there.
More climbers die during the descent than on the way up.”
Karakaredes seems to be considering this. After a minute he says, “Yes, but here on the summit, there must be some ritual . . .”
“Hero photos,” gasps Paul. “Gotta . . . have . . . hero photos.”
Our alien nods. “Did . . . anyone . . . bring an imaging device? A camera? I did not.
It is true that we Russians have sent only four doctors into space in forty years of flight, but still I might have had chance to fly to Mir or International Space Station except for one fact. This is that I cannot urinate—is this the right word, Mr. Roth?—I cannot urinate on wheel of bus.
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