Quotes from Fritz Leiber

From all around came very faintly a low sad hum, as the unhoused bees mourned.

The "Howard" in the entry had to be Howard Phillips Lovecraft , that twentieth-century puritanic Poe from Providence, with his regrettable but undeniable loathing of the immigrant swarms he felt were threatening the traditions and monuments of his beloved New England and the whole Eastern seaboard. (And hadn't Lovecraft done some ghost-writing for a man with a name like Castries? Caster? Carswell?)

It was odd how old buildings had secret spaces in them that weren't really hidden but were never noticed;

But at the same time, I swore an oath by the morning star to avenge the deaths of Vilis and Hinerio. And some day I shall! With proper plans and help and a new cover. More than one high potentate of the Thieves' Guild will learn how it feels to have his weasand narrowed a fingerclip's breadth at a time, aye, and worse things!

Do you think the saucer actually had an inertialess drive—like E. E. Smith's bergenholms or something?" Harry McHeath asked Doc.  "Have to, I'd think, the way it was jumping around. In a situation like this, science fiction is our only guide. On the other hand—

Also, in the dismal Cold Waste, any man treasures illusions, though knowing them almost certainly to be such.

Oh, Ivivis, sorcerers don't have mothers!

That is the trouble with a clear mind. For a little while you see things as they really are and you can accurately predict how they're going to shape the future ... and then suddenly you realize you've predicted yourself a week or a month into the future and you can't live the intervening time any more because you've already imagined it in detail.

By the hedgehog,' said the smaller, grinning wickedly, 'but they'll think twice before they play at ambuscades again!

The Mouser grinned as he poked about with his gaze at the nastily slimed cobbles and the dead bodies and the scattered hardware. "Cat's Claw must be here somewhere," he muttered, "and I did hear the chink of gold.…" "You'd feel a penny under the tongue of a man you were strangling!" Fafhrd told him angrily.

A practical man can always make what he wants to do look like a noble sacrifice of personal inclinations to the welfare of the community.

Nature works by subtle, secret means—man's invisible seed, spider bite, the viewless spores of madness and of death, rocks that are born in earth's unknown bowels, the silent stars a-creep across the sky—and we thieves copy her.

My Mrs. Willis thinks the skyscrapers are out to get her. At night they make themselves still skinnier, she says, and come sneaking down the streets after her.

And the entire world was just as bad; it was perishing of pollution, drowning and suffocating in chemical and atomic poisons, detergents and insecticides, industrial effluvia, smog, the stench of sulfuric acid, the quantities of steel, cement, aluminum ever bright, eternal plastics, omnipresent paper, gas and electron floods - electro-mephitic city-stuff indeed!

Don't follow it, Fafhrd," the Mouser repeated—a little hopelessly, almost whiningly, it must be admitted. "Don't follow it, I say. It leads only to squidgy death. We can still go back up the rope, aye, and take your loot with us.

The biggest wars are the wars of thought. The Oldest Soldier

Actors make great sacrifices, which the yokels and even their co-mates rarely appreciate.

Minds festooned with error, barnacled with bias, swollen with delusions of godhead.

Behind them the long galley lay like a dead beetle, the oars sprawled out all askew from the ports.

Lankhmar City would feed me, aye, feed me well—and be paid only with lumps and perhaps a deep scratch or two. So to Lankhmar I went. Falling in there with a clever girl of the same turn of mind and some experience, I did well for two full rounds of moons and a few more. We worked only in black garb, and called ourselves to ourselves the Dark Duo.

No, I ran afoul of a law older even than Lankhmar's and a court less merciful. In short, my friend's and my own cover was finally blown by the Thieves' Guild, a most ancient organization with locals in every city of the civilized world with a hidebound law against female membership and with a deep detestation of all freelance pilferers.

Then he turned and headed straight for home, but he took the long way, around the world.

But Anra was far cleverer than I at reading. He loved letters as passionately as I did the outside. For him, they were alive. I remember shim showing me some Egyptian hieroglyphs and telling me that they were all animals and insects. And then he showed me some Egyptian hieratics and demotics and told me those were the same animals in disguise. But Hebrew, he said, was best of all, for each letter was a magic charm.

Fafhrd felt as if he had walked unsuspecting into the jaws of a gigantic serpent. His barbaric mind was stirred to the deeps. He thought of the grim god Kos brooding alone in the icy silence of the Cold Waste. He thought of the masked powers Fate and Chance, and of the game they play for the blood and brains of men. And he did not will these thoughts. Rather did the freezing fear seem to crystallize them, so that they dropped into his consciousness like snowflakes.