Quotes from Dan Simmons

To be a poet, I realized, a true poet, was to become the Avatar of humanity incarnate; to accept the mantle of poet is to carry the cross of the Son of Man, to suffer the birth pangs of the Soul-Mother of Humanity.

Can God play a significant game with his own creature? Can any creator, even a limited one, play a significant game with his own creature?

Francis Crozier now understood that the most desirable and erotic thing a woman could wear were the many modest layers such as Sophia Cracroft wore to dinner in the governor's house, enough silken fabric to conceal the lines of her body, allowing a man to concentrate on the exciting loveliness of her wit

Arete is simply excellence and the striving for excellence in all things," said Odysseus. "Arete simply means the act of offering all actions as a sort of sacrament to excellence, of devoting one's life to finding excellence, identifying it when it offers itself, and achieving it in your own life.

Asshole cunt peepee fuck." "Ah," grinned Old Sludge, showing his one tooth, "going to the company store to get some algae chewies, huh?" "Goddamn poopoo," I would grin back at him.

Forcing school children to recite a national pledge doesn't sound very American to me," said James. "No," agreed Holmes. "It sounds German. Very German.

But it sold three billion Ã¢â'¬Â¦Ã¢â'¬Â "Look," said Tyrena. "In twentieth-century Old Earth, a fast food chain took dead cow meat, fried it in grease, added carcinogens, wrapped it in petroleum-based foam, and sold nine hundred billion units. Human beings. Go figure.

In the end, it doesn't matter a damn bit. We thought we were special, opening our perceptions, honing our empathy, spilling that cauldron of shared pain onto the dance floor of language and then trying to make a minuet out of all that chaotic hurt. It doesn't matter a damn bit. We're no avatars, no sons of god or man. We're only us, scribbling our conceits alone, reading alone, and dying alone. Goddamn it hurts.

Father Lenar Hoyt stepped away from the wall where he had been leaning, raised his right hand with thumb and little finger touching, three fingers raised, the gesture somehow including himself as well as those before him, and said softly, 'Ego te absolvo.

the world often seemed more like a template for fiction than something that should be indulged in for its own sake.

Even as he watched, a star moved above the limb of the planet, laser weapons winked their ruby morse

But he had once told Watson that the "less or fewer" issue, along with the use of "I" in such sentences as "He gave the money to Sheila and I", inflicted on the public by people who considered themselves well-educated, could be drastically reduced in frequency—if not actually abolished—by a few well-aimed pistol shots and an explanatory note that would be pinned to the victims' chests.

In the end, it is all we are, these limpid tide pools of self-consciousness between crashing waves of pain. We are destined and designed to bear our pain with us, hugging it tight to our bellies like the young Spartan thief hiding a wolf cub so it can eat away our insides.

I am tired of this city. I am tired of its pagan pretensions and false histories. Hyperion is a poet's world devoid of poetry. Keats itself is a mixture of tawdry, false classicism and mindless, boomtown energy.

There were strict laws protecting card privacy but laws had a bad habit of being ignored or abrogated when societal push came to totalitarian shove.

Later, dictating the tale into his comlog, the Consul remembered it as a seamless whole, minus the pauses, hoarse voice, false starts, and small redundancies which were the timeless failings of human speech

I was thinking about how free of mobs recent centuries had been: to create a mob there must be public meetings, and public meetings in our time consisted of individuals communing via the All Thing or other datasphere channels; it is hard to create mob passion when people are separated by kilometers and light-years, connected only by comm lines and fatline threads.

L'ondata divenne una massa urlante di rivoltosi; in quel momento, la somma dei quozienti d'intelligenza era molto inferiore a quella del più modesto componente singolo. La folla ha passioni, non cervello.

I desperately want to talk to her now. I want to ask her who it was who so deftly crafted and shaped the legend that was our love.

it had long been accepted that if a species put mankind on its food-chain menu the species would be extinct before long.

you met this Moneta ... or whatever her real name is ... in her past but your future ... in a meeting that's still to come

We've been stuck in one species since our Cro-Magnon ancestors helped to wipe out the smarter Neanderthals," she said. "Now it's our chance to diversify rapidly, and institutions like the Hegemony, the Pax, and the Core are stopping it.

This is where the Iliad begins, and it should be the focus of all my energies and professional skills, but the truth is that I don't really give a shit.

beyond ideology and ambition, beyond thought and emotion, there was only pain. And salvation from it.