Lois McMaster Quotes
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Aim high. You may still miss the target, but at least you won't shoot your foot off.
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The world is made by the people who show up for the job.
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If you desire a man to tell you comfortable lies about your prowess, and so fetter any hope of true excellence, I'm sure you may find one anywhere. Not all prisons are made of iron bars. Some are made of feather beds.
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What you are is a question only you can answer.
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No battle plan survives first contact with the enemy. Not when the enemy is me.
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I take it as a man's duty to restrain himself.
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When you give each other everything, it becomes an even trade. Each wins all.
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Real destiny takes everything-the last drop of blood, and strip out your veins to be sure-and gives it back doubled. Quadrupled. A thousand-fold! But you can't give halves. You have to give it all. I know. I swear. I've come back from the dead to speak the truth to you. Real destiny gives you a mountain of life, and puts you on top of it.
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I'm very interested in the impact of biotechnology on the way people live.
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I need words that mean more than they mean, words not just with height and width, but depth and weight and, and other dimensions that I cannot even name.
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Guard your honor. Let your reputation fall where it will. And outlive the bastards.
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I don't want power. I just object to idiots having power over me.
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The principle difference between heaven and hell is the company you keep there.
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Women do desperately need models for power other than the maternal.
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Your Reverence, I do not hate any man in this world enough to inflict the results of my prayers upon him.
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One step at a time, I can walk around the world. Watch me.
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Reputation is what other people know about you. Honor is what you know about yourself.
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People give themselves to you, in their talking, and in other ways, if you are quiet and patient and let them, and not in such a damned rush to give yourself to them you go bat-blind and deaf.
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Events may be horrible or inescapable. Men have always a choice - if not whether, then how, they may endure.
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His outflung hands traced over the threads of his rug, passed loop by loop through some patient woman's hands. Or maybe she hadn't been patient. Maybe she'd been tired, or irritated, or distracted, or hungry, or angry. Maybe she had been dying. But her hands had kept moving, all the same.
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If the truth doesn't save us, what does that say about us?
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For me, writing is more a process of discovering the book than planning it.
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Koudelka looked back, "You?! I know you! You trust beyond reason!" Cordelia met his eyes steadily, "Yes, it's how I get results beyond hope, as you may recall.
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For a while, I thought I was going mad. At last, I became reconciled to my despair. The medications helped, too, I thought, sir.