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She rarely saw priest-and knowing her heart sinned, was glad of that. Dreary was a church after the woodlands and hills and sounding sea. She still loved God-and was not the earth His work, and a church only man’s?-but she could not bring herself to call on Him very often.
Poul Anderson -
'At least we can put a little sense into life.''I don’t know whether we do or whether we find what was always there,' he replied. 'Nor do I care greatly. To me, the important thing is that the purpose-order, beauty, spirit, whatever you want to call it-does exist.'
Poul Anderson
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I say that a God who would come between two who have been to each other what we have been, is not one I would heed.
Poul Anderson -
Then they died.And other men came after them. Wars flamed up and burned out; the howling peoples dwelt in smashed cities and kindled their fires with books.
Poul Anderson -
Hurry and hurry, autumn leaves hurrying on the rainy wind, snow hurrying out of the sky, life hurrying to death, gods hurrying to oblivion.
Poul Anderson -
'Do you know,' said Maclaren, 'there is one sin which is punished with unfailing certainty, and must therefore be the deadliest sin in all time. Stupidity.'
Poul Anderson -
We must understand that what Pascal said is true of every human being in the whole of space-time, ourselves included-'The last act is tragic, however pleasant all the comedy of the other acts. A little earth on our heads, and all is done with forever.'-understand it in our bones, so that we can live with it calmly if not serenely.
Poul Anderson -
'We need a reserve of life, every kind of life,' he explained. 'Today for the spirit-a glimpse of space and green. Tomorrow for survival, flat-out survival.'
Poul Anderson
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One man, one vote: A legal doctrine requiring that, from time to time, old gerrymanders be replaced with new ones. The object of this is the achievement of genuine democracy.
Poul Anderson -
'I've heard assorted rhapsodies about humankind going to the stars, of course. Who hasn't? Each of them founders on the practical problems.' 'The fish that first ventured ashore had considerable practical problems.'
Poul Anderson -
’Tis colder outside than a well-born maiden’s heart.
Poul Anderson -
The last thing any sane person wants is a jihad.
Poul Anderson -
Don’t get me wrong. These people are mine. I like and in many ways admire them. They’re the salt of the earth. It’s simply that I want other condiments too.
Poul Anderson -
You know what they say about bold spacemen never becoming old spacemen.
Poul Anderson
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I’ll give you one thing to mull over, though. If the body’s such a valueless piece of pork, and we’ll all meet each other in the sweet bye and bye, and so on, why’re you busting every gut you own to get back to your wife?
Poul Anderson -
There really wasn’t much in a man’s life that mattered. But those few things mattered terribly.
Poul Anderson -
'You are much too kind,' said Holger, overwhelmed.'Nay.' Alfric waved his hand. 'You mortals know not how tedious undying life can become, and how gladly a challenge such as this is greeted. ’Tis I should thank you.'
Poul Anderson -
'I think you look on death as your friend,' she murmured. 'That is a strange friend for a young man to have.''The only faithful friend in this world,' he said. 'Death is always sure to be at your side.'
Poul Anderson -
We're mortal - which is to say, we're ignorant, stupid, and sinful - but those are only handicaps. Our pride is that nevertheless, now and then, we do our best. A few times we succeed. What more dare we ask for?
Poul Anderson -
Light fills the air, wind is aglow, drink of it, breathe of it, make leafing. Rainfall sows itself, it grows down through soil to the secret places where stones abide; it brings the strength of them up rootward. Lie still, molder away, then be again grass.
Poul Anderson
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Keep on thinking. Keep your thinking close to the ground, where it belongs. Don’t ever trade your liberty for another man’s offer to do your thinking and make your mistakes for you.
Poul Anderson -
I walk beyond town, many of these nights, to stand under the high autumnal stars, look upward and wonder.
Poul Anderson -
Inland, all except criminals lived in a tightly pulled net of regulations, duties, social standing, tax collection, expectations of how to act and speak and think-'sort of like late twentieth-century USA' Everard grumbled to himself.
Poul Anderson -
'Your son was in your own tradition.''Better, I hope,' said the old man. 'There would be little sense to existence, did boys have no chance to be more than their fathers.'
Poul Anderson