Quotes from Jack Vance

We renew our acquaintance," said Gersen in a pleasant voice. Dasce said nothing.

It seems," said Gersen, "that troubles are catching up with you." Dasce spat at him. "Fah! What more can you do to me? Do you think I fear death? I live only out of hate.

You sing siren songs of inducement!

If religions are diseases of the human psyche, as the philosopher Grintholde asserts

As soon as the police slip out from under the firm thumb of a suspicious local tribune, they become arbitrary, merciless, a law unto themselves. They think no more of justice, but only of establishing themselves as a privileged and envied elite. They mistake the attitude of natural caution and uncertainty of the civilian populace as admiration and respect, and presently start to swagger back and forth, jingling their weapons in megalomaniacal euphoria.

So far as I am concerned, war is neither a game nor an occasion for gallantry, but rather an unpleasant event to be settled with the least possible hurt for one's self

If religions are diseases of the human psyche, as the philosopher Grintholde asserts, then religious wars must be reckoned the resultant sores and cankers infecting the aggregate corpus of the human race.

If religions are diseases of the human psyche, as the philosopher Grintholde asserts, then religious wars must be reckoned the resultant sores and cankers infecting the aggregate corpus of the human race. Of all wars, these are the most detestable, since they are waged for no tangible gain, but only to impose a set of arbitrary credos upon another's mind.

To each of the twenty-six planets he assigned a letter of the alphabet and hurriedly supplied new names: Alphanor, Barleycorn, Chrysanthe, Diogenes, Elfland, Fiame, Goshen, Hardacres, Image, Jezebel, Krokinole, Lyonnesse, Madagascar, Nowhere, Olliphane, Pilgham, Quinine, Raratonga, Somewhere, Tantamount, Unicorn, Valisande, Walpurgis, Xion, Ys and Zacaranda — the names derived from legend, myth, romance, his own whimsy. Only

Le persone che vivevano in massa, pensò Shorn, erano come ciottoli su di una spiaggia: ciascuna levigava il suo vicino, fino a quando tutte erano assolutamente uniformi.

Farmer hauled before constabulary court after attack upon the person of Bose Coggindell, Fellow of the Institute, 54th Degree, in self-justification: "These chaps have it easy. They lean back in their chairs and say, 'Suffer, you'll love it. Do it the hard way. Sweat.' They'd like me to hitch my wife to a plow, the way it used to be done. So I showed him what I thought of what he calls 'detachment'." Justice (after fining farmer 75 SVU):

Dame Betka laughed without humor. You are not alone in your yearnings. That is as may be! But I am quite alone in being Hester Lajoie! I strike my own personal path through the wilderness of life, and intent to resist dissolution tooth and nail!

I think we've met?" His voice was soft, sardonic. "Your name evades me," said Gersen politely. "I am Suthiro, Sivij Suthiro.

Navarth looked off across the water. "Do you realize that a crook of my finger disturbs the farthest star? That every human thought disturbs the psychic parasphere?" "This is the source of your knowledge—psychic perturbations?" "As good a method as any other.

A detached attitude toward the problems of others is not illegal.

During most of my youth I lived on Earth." "Indeed?" Warweave raised his eyebrows in manufactured astonishment. "Out here, you know, we think of Earthmen in terms of stereotypes: cultists, mystics, hyper-civilized epicenes, sinister old men in Institute black, decadent aristocrats Ã¢â'¬Â¦

And there was another melancholy - different yet somehow similar - which came to Gersen as he watched the debonair folk about him. They were all graceful and easy, untouched by the toil and pain and terror that existed on remote worlds. Gersen envied them their detachment, their social skills. Still, would he change places with any of them? Hardly.

The archveult Xexamedes, digging gentian roots in Were Wood, became warm with exertion. He doffed his cloak and returned to work, but the glint of blue scales was noticed by Herark the Harbinger and the diabolist Shrue. Approaching by stealth they leapt forth to confront the creature. Then, flinging a pair of nooses about the supple neck, they held him where he could do no mischief.

Informing you is a pleasure, since you are quick to learn.

Our wants are many, our farthings few; And oft we sleep in the rain and dew! Our evening meal is a turnip stew; In spite of all we're a jolly crew!

Out there somewhere our fortune hides. Though pain seems what our life provides Our dauntless doctrine still abides!

What is an evil man? The man is evil who coerces obedience to his private ends, destroys beauty, produces pain, extinguishes life. It must be remembered that killing evil men is not equivalent to expunging evil, which is a relationship between a situation and an individual. A poisonous spore will grow only in a nutrient soil.

If I adhere to any fundamental principle in my writing, perhaps it is my belief that the function of fiction is essentially to amuse or entertain the reader. The mark of good writing, in my opinion, is that the reader is not aware that the story has been written; as he reads, the ideas and images flow into his mind as if he were living them. The utmost accolade a writer can receive is that the reader is incognizant of his presence.

To Smade's Tavern in the July of 1524 came Kirth Gersen, representing himself as a locater.