Rufus Prabel > Rufus's Quotes

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  • #1
    Todor Bombov
    “Let’s get to know each other. My name’s William, William More, but you can call me Willy. I’m an engineer-chemist who graduated from MIT. So . . . but you’re all alike to me . . . of course, you would be . . . you’re robots. And all your names are that sort of, um . . . codes, technical numbers . . . I need some marker where I can pick you out. Well, well, to you I’ll call . . .,” and Willy pondered for a moment, “Gumball, yes, Gumball! Do you mind?” “No, sir, actually no,” CSE-TR-03 said, agreeing with its new given name. “Ah, that’s wonderful. And then you’re Darwin,” Willy said, accosting the second robot. “Look what a nice name—Darwin! What do you say, eh?” “What can I say, sir? I like it,” CSE-TR-02 agreed too. “Yes, a human name with a past . . . You and Gumball . . . are from the same family, the Methanesons!” “It turns out thus, sir,” Darwin confirmed its family belonging. “And you’re like Larry. You’re Larry. Do you know that?” More addressed the next robot in line. “Yes, sir, just now I learned that,” the third robot said, accepted its name as well.”
    Todor Bombov, Homo Cosmicus 2: Titan: A Science Fiction Novel

  • #2
    Gabriel F.W. Koch
    “A ray of sunlight poked through the mass of angry clouds.”
    Gabriel F.W. Koch, Steel Blood

  • #3
    “The blast of hot air lifted Tazeem from his feet and threw him onto his back in the road. He blinked up into the night sky; raindrops glowed orange as they fell towards the earth.”
    R.D. Ronald, The Zombie Room

  • #4
    Euripides
    “Who can stop grief's avalanche once it starts to roll.”
    Euripides, Medea

  • #5
    Ovid
    “Their love was equal; on the hills they roamed together, and together they would go back to their cave; and this time too they went into the Lapith's palace side by side and side by side were fighting in the fray. A javelin (no knowing from whose hand) came from the left and wounded Cyllarus, landing below the place where the chest joins neck--slight wound, but when the point was pulled away, cold grew his damaged heart and cold his limbs. Hylonome embraced him as he died, caressed the wound and, putting lips to lips, she tried to stay his spirit as it fled. And when she saw him lifeless, she moaned words that in that uproar failed to reach my ears; and fell upon the spear that pierced her love, and, dying, held her husband in her arms.”
    Ovid, Metamorphoses

  • #6
    Thomas Keneally
    “I believe we can discern the difference of a wise man momentarily giving way to intemperate emotion,” said my father, “and a fool reveling in malice.” My”
    Thomas Keneally, Napoleon's Last Island

  • #7
    Donna Tartt
    “And as much as I’d like to believe there’s a truth beyond illusion, I’ve come to believe that there’s no truth beyond illusion. Because, between ‘reality’ on the one hand, and the point where the mind strikes reality, there’s a middle zone, a rainbow edge where beauty comes into being, where two very different surfaces mingle and blur to provide what life does not: and this is the space where all art exists, and all magic.”
    Donna Tartt, The Goldfinch

  • #8
    Pearl S. Buck
    “It was in those days that I learned to distinguish between the two kinds of people in the world: those who have known inescapable sorrow and those who have not.”
    Pearl S. Buck, The Child Who Never Grew: A Memoir

  • #9
    Salman Rushdie
    “PLEASE BELIEVE that I am falling apart. I am not speaking metaphorically; nor is this the opening gambit of some melodramatic, riddling, grubby appeal for pity. I mean quite simply that I have begun to crack all over like an old jug—that my poor body, singular, unlovely, buffeted by too much history, subjected to drainage above and drainage below, mutilated by doors, brained by spittoons, has started coming apart at the seams. In short, I am literally disintegrating, slowly for the moment, although there are signs of acceleration. I ask you only to accept (as I have accepted) that I shall eventually crumble into (approximately) six hundred and thirty million particles of anonymous, and necessarily oblivious, dust.”
    Salman Rushdie, Midnight's Children



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