-
The Thyrans came on, as merciless as time.
Leigh Brackett -
I can’t tell you if the stories are true. Men lie without meaning to. They talk as if they had been part of a thing that happened to someone they never knew and only heard of by sixth remove.
Leigh Brackett
-
The mountains dwindled away into hills covered with a dark, stunted scrub. Beyond them the land flattened out to the horizon, a treeless immensity of white and gray-green, a spongy mossiness flecked with a million icy ponds. The wind blew, sometimes hard, sometimes harder.
Leigh Brackett -
The man who doesn’t fear, doesn’t live long. I fear everything.
Leigh Brackett -
With any luck. Stark smiled cynically. Not that he did not believe in luck. Rather, he had found it to be an uncertain ally.
Leigh Brackett -
There was a smell in the air now. The hot, close, frightening small of mob; mob excited, hungry, dreaming blood and death. The primitive in Stark knew that sweaty acridity all too well.
Leigh Brackett -
'Aren’t you even curious?' he asked. 'A million worlds out there with more wonders than I could tell you in a million years, and you don’t even want to ask a question?'
Leigh Brackett -
Under the attentiveness was fear, and something else. Anger, hate-the instinctive rejection of an intolerable truth.
Leigh Brackett
-
Invisibility is a condition of godhead. If folk could see them, they would know the truth, and the Lords Protector would cease to be divine.
Leigh Brackett -
Stark did not like them. There was a touch of madness in them, born of the long dark and the too-long-held faith.
Leigh Brackett -
'Better to make haste slowly than not at all,' said Amnir sententiously.
Leigh Brackett