77,972 books
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290,793 voters
Umme H. Faisal
https://www.goodreads.com/stethospeaks
“But this is the interstellar equivalent of a stranger offering me candy.”
― Project Hail Mary
― Project Hail Mary
“I wondered if that was how forgiveness budded; not with the fanfare of epiphany, but with pain gathering its things, packing up, and slipping away unannounced in the middle of the night.”
― The Kite Runner
― The Kite Runner
“I've gone from "sole-surviving space explorer" to "guy with a wacky new roommate." It'll be interesting to see how this plays out.”
― Project Hail Mary
― Project Hail Mary
“Does that mean it's not no? Is that another yes? Now I'm confused.
"No?" I ask
"No" he says in Eridian.
"So, 'yes'?"
"No, yes."
"Yes?"
"No. No."
"Yes, yes?"
"No!" he balls a fist at me, clearly frustrated.
Enough of this interspecies Abbott and Costello routine.”
― Project Hail Mary
"No?" I ask
"No" he says in Eridian.
"So, 'yes'?"
"No, yes."
"Yes?"
"No. No."
"Yes, yes?"
"No!" he balls a fist at me, clearly frustrated.
Enough of this interspecies Abbott and Costello routine.”
― Project Hail Mary
“Pity the nation that is full of beliefs and empty of religion.
Pity the nation that wears a cloth it does not weave
and eats a bread it does not harvest.
Pity the nation that acclaims the bully as hero,
and that deems the glittering conqueror bountiful.
Pity a nation that despises a passion in its dream,
yet submits in its awakening.
Pity the nation that raises not its voice
save when it walks in a funeral,
boasts not except among its ruins,
and will rebel not save when its neck is laid
between the sword and the block.
Pity the nation whose statesman is a fox,
whose philosopher is a juggler,
and whose art is the art of patching and mimicking
Pity the nation that welcomes its new ruler with trumpeting,
and farewells him with hooting,
only to welcome another with trumpeting again.
Pity the nation whose sages are dumb with years
and whose strongmen are yet in the cradle.
Pity the nation divided into fragments,
each fragment deeming itself a nation.”
― The Garden of The Prophet
Pity the nation that wears a cloth it does not weave
and eats a bread it does not harvest.
Pity the nation that acclaims the bully as hero,
and that deems the glittering conqueror bountiful.
Pity a nation that despises a passion in its dream,
yet submits in its awakening.
Pity the nation that raises not its voice
save when it walks in a funeral,
boasts not except among its ruins,
and will rebel not save when its neck is laid
between the sword and the block.
Pity the nation whose statesman is a fox,
whose philosopher is a juggler,
and whose art is the art of patching and mimicking
Pity the nation that welcomes its new ruler with trumpeting,
and farewells him with hooting,
only to welcome another with trumpeting again.
Pity the nation whose sages are dumb with years
and whose strongmen are yet in the cradle.
Pity the nation divided into fragments,
each fragment deeming itself a nation.”
― The Garden of The Prophet
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