Quotes from Chuck Wendig

He's heard tales of the Clone Wars -tales spoken by his own father. He knows how war goes. It's not many wars, but just one, drawn out again and again, cut up into slices so it seems more manageable.

Life's fucked up. It just is. It's got ups and downs and I say it's worse not appreciating the good things, because then what's the point? It's like the Native Americans used to say, right? Gotta use all of the buffalo. Life is a whole damn animal, and you can't waste any part of it.

So why, then, can't Ackbar shake the feeling that once again they are about to fall into a trap?

She treats herself as if she is a divine worm born of sand and stone.

On the worst day of writing, the work is instructive. On the best day, the act is transcendent.

Ackbar interjects: "But we also must recognize the Empire's ability to play the long game. Our victory over Endor was fortunate, but the Empire orchestrated that trap with great patience.

You're brave and smart and kind and I'd be a fool not to trust you.

and she saw another bit of ink, one she didn't recognize: a sword and a hammer encircled by a snake. She didn't know what it meant, exactly, but it was probably more Nazi white-guy shit, because it was always Nazi white-guy shit.

This is Tracene Kane, HoloNet news reporter embedded with the New Republic Thirty-First. And I'd like to tell you about a friend of mine. A friend the Empire just stole from me.

The Wookiee tilts his head back and ululates a loud, joyful growl, then wraps his impossible arms around the smuggler. Solo looks like a child snatched up by an eager parent—for a moment his whole body lifts up off the ground, his legs kicking as the Wookiee purrs and barks.

suddenly he's forced to wonder if each Jawa is just a fraternity of wet rats gathering together under brown robes and a black face veil.

Fools ignore complexity. Pragmatists suffer it. Some can avoid it. Geniuses remove it.

When they say to one another, 'May the Force be with you,' it is precisely this that they mean: It is a wish that when the time comes to leap into the void and to make a decision based on instinct and trust, you are rewarded for that act and not punished. The hope is that if you meet the galaxy halfway, it meets you in the middle and carries you the rest of the distance.

The New Republic is not a military entity. It is one of democracy. And it is painfully naïve to think that democracy can work on a galactic scale.

From the box, he withdraws a helmet. Pitted and pocked, as if with some kind of acid. But still—he raps his knuckles on it. The Mandalorians knew how to make armor, didn't they? "Look at this," he says, holding it up. "Mandalorian battle armor. Whole box. Complete set, by the looks of it. Been through hell and back. I think my boss will appreciate this.

The Muse is not real. Relying on the Muse is like leaning on a crutch made of playing cards.

Everything means something, but not every something matters.

Your best authorial self is always one about to ruin the story.

Even if this thing takes down one percent of the global population—that's seventy million people.

Walls tagged with graffiti (one such piece of tagging: a stencil of a familiar Sith Lord's helmet with the phrase beneath it reading VADER LIVES).

And in the months since the destruction of the Empire's dread battle station, we have already liberated countless planets in the name of the Alliance.

Be patient. Be strong. Fight back where you can. The Imperial war machine falls apart one gear, one gun, one stormtrooper at a time. The New Republic is coming. And we want your help to finish the fight.

I could just call you Asshole or Shithead. Because you're kinda both, you ask me.

The Empire is a thug, a bully. It's no better than Surat Nuat, or Black Sun, or the syndicate of Hutts. The Empire pretends it's about law and order, but at the end of the day, it's about dressing up oppression in the costume of justice.