Quotes from Elizabeth Bear

I'd parasitize you, but my offspring might grow up to have your sense of humor.

He stared at me, head turned slightly as if he had almost figured out what was battering me, but hadn't quite made the intuitive leap.

There had been times in the last decade and a half when Vincent had been convinced he'd never exactly remember that face. And there had been times when he'd been just as convinced had never get it out of his head. That he could feel Michelangelo standing beside him, glowering as he was glowering now.

Rien noticed the sameness in the shape of their features. Though Percival's face was squarer, and Tristen's was long, they were both thin and tall, with deep-set eyes. His nose wandered, hers was incongruously pert. Nevertheless, Rien thought the resemblance would have been striking if Perceval still had her hair, and if Tristen's was pigmented rather than wooly and white and if the line of his jaw wasn't concealed by his beard.

Dying seemed a small price to pay for such a kiss and now he knew why Selene had fallen away from Muire so disconsolate.

She reached into the shadows, groping toward Morgan's cottage, and felt as if her fingers brushed slick, opaque ice.

Red ran through my fingers, dripping to the white, white stone.

I must not clutch my throat, I will not. And I will not give her Strifbjorn, even for that. Even for freedom. Not Strifbjorn. But perchance, anything else.

Rim had kept secrets from the Core. The Core kept secrets from Rim: no surprises there. One of the stranger benefits of having once been someone else was that the someone she had been knew how much was concealed. And sometimes even had a general idea of what not to ask about in order to ensure everyone's comfort or continued peace of mind. Or, in this case, where exactly to shine the light.

Maybe that was the trade: Stay erased and still and quiet and be invisible and safe. Take an action, claim space, be noticed-and open yourself up to attack by everyone and everything.

The bipeds plot. Clever, delicious bipeds, random and amusing. They are eager for change, ravenous for it, for the antithesis of Consent.

It whetted its killing manipulators one over the other, which looked like a threat but might have been a shrug.

Hey, it's my job to climb into questionable machines.

That night, he kept activating the readout from his chip on the mobile's login screen: Enfranchised.

Maybe rebellion had gotten its teeth into her soul.

I'm a tiger who does not care to hunt any longer.

Carel stood under the crimson and bone-white shower of the rambling roses, breathing deeply.

We all just get along. No matter what. Whether it suits our personal needs or not. Personal needs are a priveleged affectation.

She semed calm as she watched Julian pack food away, and not at all lik a woman contemplating a Dragon. A duel.

It's way too late to start pretending you like me." "I do like you, you enormous pain in the ass.

The twist of her mouth revealed what she thought of that idea. It made Lisa restrain a smile: it was also Katya's moue, and Lisa's son Julian made the same face when he was concentrating.

Everyone loved and lost, and perhaps it took a necromancer to appreciate how truly universal that experience could be.

Morgan's face gave away nothing, smooth as a mirror.

He was spoiled, stubborn, and unaccustomed to living with the consequences of his actions.