Quotes About Independence

The children all received their bicycles at Nine; they were not allowed to ride bicycles before then.

I am not a fate worse than death, dammit!

Do it for yourself. The universe will be around to collect its cut later.

Miles is... Miles; close to a force of nature, climbing up out of his own pages and escaping subordination to any opinion of mine.

Women do desperately need models for power other than the maternal.

Once, she had been her parents' daughter. Then great, unlucky Ias's wife. Her children's mother. At the last, her mother's keeper. Well, I am none of these things now. Who am I, when I am not surrounded by the walls of my life?

The meaning of yes is created by the ability to say no.

At some stage of development an officer had to stop following orders and start generating them.

Although even then, it hadn't been because he hadn't wanted to learn—just that he hadn't wanted to learn what had been set on the plate in front of him that day.  The power to select his own plates had changed everything.

The shuttle bumped, bounced, banged, rocked, and roared out over the flat, cracked surface. She was sorry she had never made a pass at Leo. Clearly, you could die while waiting for other people to start your life for you. Her seat harness cut across her breasts as deceleration sucked her forward and the rumbling vibration rattled her teeth.

She opened her mouth once to speak, closed it, then finally ripped out, "Why aren't you on your way home? I gave you an order, Lieutenant!" Stuben, anticipating a warmer reception, was momentarily nonplussed. "We took a vote," he said simply, as though it explained everything. Cordelia

What, everyone knows of Royesse Iselle's clever secretary, the man who keeps his own counsel—and hers—the Bastion of Gotorget—utterly indifferent to wealth—" "No, I'm not," Cazaril assured him earnestly. "I just dress badly. I quite like wealth.

But she was my project—I must answer for her— No. She's a free woman now. She must answer for herself. How free can she ever be, in that body, driven by that metabolism, that face—a freak's life—better to die painlessly, than to have all that suffering inflicted on her— Miles spoke through his teeth. With emphasis. No. It's. Not. Canaba stared at him, shaken out of the rutted circle of his unhappy reasoning at last.

She was alone, uninhabited, she was herself again, after five months of that strange doubled existence.

Seven thirty-five. The only thing worse than being a widow and being single is being a widow and being single and being stood up.

I've never walked the same path other people found comfortable and I'm not going to start now.

She had found someone who matched her, a warrior and a shield. A man she could respect; one she could argue with and enjoy. She hadn't wanted to lose that. Hadn't wanted to be alone again.

You will rage and you will cry and you will ask God why. But you will always find yourself again, and you will never sell your soul to a man who cannot love you. If he cannot love you with all his heart and all his spirit as well, then you are better off without him.

Dawg's been chasing you for years, Crista. What's up?" Crista's eyes burned with anger as she slowly tucked the ordering pad into her back pocket and glared at him furiously. "I'm not a plaything for the three of you," she snarled then, surprising him and Natches. "If you cared for anything past yourselves then you damned well wouldn't expect it. You'd grow the hell up and get over it.

Rowdy was taking her over. Forceful. Dominant. He was so certain he knew what she needed, but Kelly had seen what she needed, and it wasn't what he was offering.

Like the Dorothy Parker heroine who spends her days and nights not calling the lover who does not call her

owning your sexuality is a big part of equality.

A woman who is willing to be herself and pursue her own potential runs not so much the risk of loneliness as the challenge of exposure to more interesting men and people in general.

If you were alone when you were born, alone when you were dying, really absolutely alone when you were dead, why learn to be alone in between? If you had forgotten, it would quickly come back to you. Aloneness was like riding a bike. At gunpoint. With the gun in your own hand. Aloneness was the air in your tires, the wind in your hair. You didn't have to go looking for it with open arms. With open arms, you fell off the bike: I was drinking my wine too quickly.