Cordelia Quotes

“Welcome to Barrayar, son. Here you go: have a world of wealth and poverty, wrenching change and rooted history. Have a birth; have two. Have a name. Miles means "soldier," but don't let the power of suggestion overwhelm you. Have a twisted form in a society that loathes and fears the mutations that have been its deepest agony. Have a title, wealth, power, and all the hatred and envy they will draw. Have your body ripped apart and re-arranged. Inherit an array of friends and enemies you never made. Have a grandfather from hell. Endure pain, find joy, and make your own meaning, because the universe certainly isn't going to supply it. Always be a moving target. Live. Live. Live.”
― Lois McMaster Bujold, Barrayar

“He who does not know how to encircle a girl so that she loses sight of everything he does not want her to see, he who does not know how to poetize himself into a girl so that it is from her that everything proceeds as he wants it-he is and remains a bungler”
― Soren Kierkegaard

“Doyle: "What is it now, then?"
Cordelia: "Isn't java supposed to be a coffee?"
Doyle: "Ready to abandon the the Web project?"
Cordelia: "No way. We have a chance here to make contact with the millions of people out there who are glued to their computers."
Doyle: "All those millions, shunning human contact. I'll never understand it. Call me old-fashioned, if you like, but I want to interface with a face, not a hunk of plastic and glass."
Cordelia: "Climb out of the Dark Ages, Munchkin man."
Doyle: "It's leprechaun, and either way, I don't appreciate the insult.”
― John Passarella "Angel"

“You? I know you! You trust beyond reason."
She met his eyes steadily. "Yes. It's how I get results beyond hope. As you may recall.”
― Lois McMaster Bujold, A Civil Campaign

“Sorry, Bill. I just have this awful vision of being p-peeled like an onion, looking for the seeds."
He grinned. "Onions don't have seeds, Cordelia."
"I stand corrected," she said dryly.”
― Lois McMaster Bujold, Cordelia's Honor

“I yet beseech your majesty,--
If for I want that glib and oily art,
To speak and purpose not; since what I well intend,
I'll do't before I speak,--that you make known
It is no vicious blot, murder, or foulness,
No unchaste action, or dishonour'd step,
That hath deprived me of your grace and favour;
But even for want of that for which I am richer,
A still-soliciting eye, and such a tongue
As I am glad I have not, though not to have it
Hath lost me in your liking.”
― William Shakespeare

“The sun goes down. The trees bend,
they straighten up. They bend.
 
At eight the youngest daughter comes.
She holds his hand.
She says, Did they feed you?
He says no.
He says, Get me out of here.
He wants so much to say please,
but won’t.
 
After a pause, she says—
he hears her say—
I love you like salt.”
― Margaret Atwood, Morning in the Burned House: Poems

“Layla and Majnun - I sought not fire, yet my heart is all flame. Layla, this love is not of earth”
― Cassandra Clare, Chain of Gold

“Are you sure this isn't instant boots?" asked Cordelia sadly, for in color, taste, and smell they closely resembled pulverized shoe leather pressed into wafers.”
― Lois McMaster Bujold, Cordelia's Honor

“Layla and Majnun - The killing witchery that lies, in her black, delicious eyes. And when her cheek the moon revealed, a thousand hearts were won: no pride, no shield, could check her power. Layla, she was called.”
― Cassandra Clare, Chain of Gold

“What are you?" Lady Marsden asked, not bothering to hide her surprise. Obviously the lady was not accustomed to being caught snooping, let alone shut down twice.
"I have no idea,”
― Kady Cross, The Girl in the Steel Corset

“Kent. Did your letters pierce the queen to any demonstration of grief?
Gent. Ay, sir; she took them, read them in my presence;
And now and then an ample tear trill'd down
Her delicate cheek: it seem'd, she was a queen
Over her passion; who, most rebel-like,
Sought to be king o'er her.
Kent. O, then it mov'd her.
Gent. Not to a rage: patience and sorrow strove
Who should express her goodliest. You have seen
Sunshine and rain at once: her smiles and tears
Were like a better day: those happy smiles,
That play'd on her ripe lip, seem'd not to know
What guests were in her eyes; which parted thence,
As pearls from diamonds dropp'd.--In brief,
Sorrow would be a rarity most beloved,
If all could so become it.”
― William Shakespeare - King Lear