Not that I haven't leaped up into the blinding light of competence now and then. It's sustaining the altitude that defeats me.
Lois McMaster BujoldMots clés humor life morals achievement
How did I get into this mess? Miles isn't even here. -Ivan
Lois McMaster BujoldMots clés ivan-vorpatril
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.
Lois McMaster BujoldMiles 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.
Lois McMaster BujoldHave 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
Cute-and-furry was always an easier sell than carapaced-and-multilegged, for some obscure reason. Grownups, so unreasonable...
Lois McMaster BujoldLately I have come to believe that the principle difference between Heaven and Hell is the company you keep there....
Lois McMaster BujoldMots clés science-fiction spiritual-wisdom
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?
Growing up, I have discovered over time, is rather like housework: never finished.
Lois McMaster BujoldMots clés growing-up housework
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.
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