Quotes from David G. Hartwell

You would have me burn your enemies for the glory of your kingdom, little fleck? In a thousand years Tadroth will be only a legend. In two thousand, even the legend will be forgotten. When you and all you make are dust in a grave, only I will remain. Why should I care how many kings rule this land for a season? Why should I care if your Serian lives or dies?

When one has the means of getting everything, one winds up giving in to personal demons.

Giving is taking is giving.

Eros grimaced, as cute as only the God of Love can be, his gloved hand hovering over a glass box full of hissing adders.

We all dream of home," said Mrs. Szince. "We dream of a place where what we are is right, where what we can do is the right thing.

Maurice liked this place. Even if there were no jewels, it was nice to dream about being rich. It was nice to dream about being well again. This was a place that invited dreams.

Like most witches Lady Kore was left-handed, and her white sacrificial gown buttoned tightly from wrist to elbow with carved child-bone studs. Loose sleeves led to horrible mistakes.

Death in Love R. Garcia y Robertson

I know what I'm talking about," she said sharply. "I'm Vice-President and a founding member of the Alliance for Ethical Lechery. Keeping an incubus is nothing less than sexual slavery.

The Thackery T. Lambshead Pocket Guide To Obscure and Discredited Diseases.

Humans are always looking for explanations. I'm not interested in them. Is that food over there? Is there water over the hill? Where is there shade from the midday sun and a warm rock to rest on at night? These are the important questions.

though her gaze kept tracking nervously to the blue sky framed by the dome, expecting any minute steeply banking wings there, fire or smoke. How could people turn on happiness like a tap, and pretend the world was a bright and shiny place when they knew it wasn't at all?

Kore's personal arms were embroidered on the front—on a field gules, a vulture sable vorant a child—a black vulture on a red field devouring a child. Too gaudy for ordinary wear, but perfect for greeting barbarians at the gate.

Eros might be a demi-god, but he was young, flighty, and male, never pretending to be brave, or strong, or the least trustworthy.

Moments like this make me glad I am a man." "Playing with snakes and poisons does not appeal to you?" "Not the least." "Come, you've been in battle. That cannot be much better. What is it like to stand in the front rank, thrusting your boarding pike at some hulking wild-eyed berserk trying to slash you in half?" "That is when I wish I was a woman," he replied primly. At least Love did not lie.

Michael Swan-wick's Periodic Table of Science Fiction, short-shorts inspired by the periodic table of the elements.

It's got the right combination of content, what Mackley calls the "Three S's": sex, stupidity, and schadenfreude.