Quotes from Lois McMaster Bujold

Your birthday was the seventeenth of last month, in point of fact." "I missed it anyway, then." He closed the bag and stuffed the uniform far back in his closet. "Not important." "It's important that someone celebrate our existence," she objected amiably.

She should have called him on the comconsole, but Illyan had been so prompt with his offer. . . . They passed the bare, baking Barrayaran garden, sloping down from the sidewalk. On the far side of the desert expanse, a small, lone figure sat on the curving edge of a raised bed of dirt. "Wait, stop!

Don't let fear swallow all your happiness. Don't forget to take joy.

He let his head rest against the crisp cloth of her uniform jacket a moment longer. She shifted, her arms reaching toward him. Was she about to hug him? If she did, Miles decided, he was going to grab her and kiss her right there. And then see what happened— Behind him, Galeni's office doors swished open. Elli and he both flinched away from each other, Elli coming to parade rest with a toss of her short dark curls, Miles just standing and cursing inwardly at the interruption. He

Leo could not, afterwards, recall running forward or swinging Van Atta around to face him, but only Van Atta's surprised, open-mouthed expression. "Bruce," he sang through a red haze, "you smarmy creep—lay off." The uppercut to Van Atta's jaw that punctuated this command was surprisingly effective, considering it was the first time Leo had struck a man in anger in his life. Van Atta sprawled backwards on the concrete. Leo

And as for absolute power, you sir, know what a false chimera that notion is. A shaky illusion, based on—God knows what. Magic. Sleight of hand. Believing your own propaganda.

Jacksonians claimed their corruption was entirely imported—if the galaxy were willing to pay for virtue what it paid for vice, the place would be a pilgrimage shrine.

For all his silences, the man was about as self-effacing as a neutron star; light itself seemed to bend around him.

But I've always thought—tests are a gift. And great tests are a great gift. To fail the test is a misfortune. But to refuse the test is to refuse the gift, and something worse, more irrevocable, than misfortune.... If you think it's really wrong...that's one thing. Maybe that's the test. But if it's only the fear of failure, you have not the right to refuse the gift for that. It's an impossible job. That happens sometimes.

ImpSec certainly hadn't given him any more interesting missions, unless you could call Security Chief Illyan's last curt ". . . and stay out of trouble!" a secret assignment. On

About Rish. You're not making her, like, fall in love with you or anything, are you? Because you could be reassigned or something, and have to drop her. And I don't want to be stuck in a flat full of weeping, angry women, with no male to take it out on but me.

Y lo peor de todo: si permites que las amistades pesen en el gobierno, pronto tendrás camarillas

I spent a career fighting the powers-that-be. Now I am them. Naturally, I was a little confused.

He wanted to know what I saw in you. I told him... he paused again, and continued almost shyly, that you poured out honor like a fountain, all around you. That's weird. I don't feel full of honor, or anything else, except maybe confusion. Naturally not. Fountains keep nothing for themselves.

For a brief, self-indulgent moment, Ingrey pictured himself drawing his steel and beheading his servant. Alas, the hall was too narrow for such a swing to be executed properly. He gave over the vision with a long sigh and levered himself to his feet.

He should be in bed, she decided. Hers, by preference.

He held out a hand in the dimness. This is an illusion. I am simply going mad with unrequited lust. Except that it hadn't seemed as unrequited as all that, now, had it? A perfectly demented grin stretched his mouth, briefly.

No, keep looking! Des demanded. For all the stares you've been sneaking at his sister's ample backside, you can give us this. He's not going to object.

The hands are strangely shy, until suddenly they turn eloquent. And then their candor could make you weep. A woman might fall in love with the hands. Though only if the woman were nearly as foolish as my little even-sister—which, luckily, doesn't seem to be possible." Tej threw a pillow at her.

But you come to the end of yourself, and time runs on, and leaves you. Her years with Tien had

Cecil flashed a grin. "Quite. Plus your rather irritating habit of treating your superior officers as your, ah . . ." Cecil paused, apparently groping again for just the right word. "Equals?" Miles hazarded. "Cattle," Cecil corrected judiciously. "To be driven to your will. You're a manipulator par excellence, Vorkosigan. I've been studying you for three years now, and your group dynamics are fascinating. Whether

Ista flushed. "I am afraid I have no talent for"—she swallowed—"dalliance. When I was young I was too stupid. Now I'm old, I am too drab." Too stupid then too mad then too drab then too late. "I'm just not the sort.

It was the fault of the hand massage; it lulled her. She said unthinkingly, "What?" "Fall in love with you. Sweet Ista." She jerked back. She had heard that endearment before, but not on those lips. "Don't call me that." "Bitter Ista?" His brows climbed. "Cranky Ista? Cross, ill-tempered, cantankerous Ista?" She snorted; he relaxed, and his lips quirked again.

A typical tech toy. High-end this year, everywhere next year, nowhere after that until the antiquarians revival.