Best 37 quotes of Peter David on MyQuotes

And to all of you, what it really comes down to is: If you're buying a book with my name on it, I feel I owe it to you to have it be the best book that I can make it.

At conventions, one of the standard questions I get is, 'Are you writing any new novels?' To which I used to respond, in my smart-[alec] fashion, 'No, I've decided to write only old novels.'

If by reaction you mean critical reaction, I was confident that we were putting out a quality book [ Treachery]. So I was reasonably sure that we'd get positive notices.

If we can't alter the tide of events, at least we can be nearby with towels to mop up.

I knew if we could pull in the Stephen King fans, we'd have a ball game. The point at which I finally became confident of the audience interest was when I showed up at one of the Marvel midnight openings to launch the very first issue of Dark Tower.

In terms of actual audience numbers, I honestly had no idea what to expect [with 'Treachery' ]. It was, after all, not a superhero title.

Maybe science is just magic with delusions of lack of grandeur.

Opposites can attract, as in magnetism. Or explode, as in matter and antimatter.

There are no such things as happy endings. Never. They're totally manufactured by fiction writers who choose to end the story on a high point.

...They are merely scars, not mortal wounds and you must use them to propel you forward.

To the brave crew and passengers of the Kobayshi Maru…sucks to be you.

Truth usually makes no sense. If your desire is for everything to make perfect sense, then you should take refuge in fiction. In fiction, all threads tie together in a neat bow and everything moves smoothly from one point to the next to the next. In real life, though... nothing makes sense. Bad things happen to good people. The pious die young while the wicked live until old age. War, famine, pestilence, death all occur randomly and senselessly and leave us more often than not scratching our heads and hurling the question 'why?' into a void that provides no answers.

We're all of us dying . . . from the moment we're born

What do we think of sex on television? Frankly, I think it's a pain. For one thing, the cable box gets wedged into your back and gets real uncomfortable.

When...has a mugging case ever heard a defense attorney claim, 'Your Honor, the victim was dressed in an Armani suit and wearing a Rolex. Clearly he was begging to be assaulted.'

Why (he wondered rhetorically) do people who have a position that's being attacked constantly state that they have a right to say it, as if the right itself-rather than the statement-has been challenged?

All people are, at heart, egocentric. We exist at the center of our own little universes. We believe that we are living out our lives as best we can, and that we have our own sphere of influence which exists of both friends and enemies. They in turn have their own friends and enemies with whom they interact. That is a given. But we, each of us, tend to put ourselves ahead of others because we believe that we are significant. We must attend to our own needs, desires, wants, and aspirations, because each of us is our own greatest priority. No one else cares for us as much as we do, no one else can exist in our skin. We think we're important. It is where our sense of self-worth comes up, where our egos reside, where "we" are. And we believe that each of our lives means something.

A moment later the scowling face of Admiral Jellico appeared on the screen. He looked as ill-humored as ever. Privately, Calhoun felt that somebody should send an away team into Jellico's ass, to determine just what had crawled up there and died years ago.

Apropos, you're going to have to learn to sooner or later that you can't just let other people decide what the world around you should and shouldn't be.

I guess it really had been brave . . . because it was so bugger-all stupid, and if there was one thing I'd come to realize, ti was that bravery and bugger-all stupidity went hand in hand.

In retrospect, I would have to recommend against epiphanies. They are difficult on an emotional level, and they also sometimes move you to foolish and inopportune acts, which was what happened in my case.

I remember so many things [. . .] The problem is, only half of them are true . . . and the half which is true keeps changing places with the half which is false.

It seemed to me that, no matter what endeavor I was involved in, I was to be something of a sham.

I woke up dead. Not only dead...but in hell. I had always been somewhat sketchy on what the afterlife - were there actually such a thing - would be like for a person such as I. From all accounts and all my imaginings, I figured it would be one of two things. Either I would be surrounded by great, burning masses that were endlessly immolating souls in torment... or else I would find myself trapped within my own mind as a helpless bystander, condemned to watching me live out my life over and over again and powerless to do anything to change any of it. When idle speculation prompted me to dwell on these two options, I would find myself drawn invariably to the former, since the later was just too hideous to contemplate. ... I was almost afraid to open my eyes, because once I did, I would know one way or the other. Perhaps I could have just lain there forever. Perhaps I was supposed to. Perhaps that was my true condemnation: to simply reside in hell with my eyes closed afraid of opening them lest matters deteriorate even further than they already had. This, in turn, made me dwell on the fact that every time I had believed things couldn’t get worse, they promptly had done so with almost gleeful enthusiasm .

Noblest. Bravest. What rot. There was no bravery in buying oneself out of difficulty.

Not that he wanted to say that. It would make it sound as if he wanted to blame her.. Women were very complicated creatures. He suddenly realised he was running through his head a list of everything he considered preferable to women. It was a long and most impressive imaginary document.

Once again I felt light-headed, but this time it wasn't from the scent of lilacs; it was from the scent of my own death.

Only in this world of topsy-turvy attitudes could outright stupidity, such as I had displayed, be something that got me high marks. I had an amused glimmering of a notion at that point: If I ever turned out to be a complete and utter fool, I could wind up running the whole kingdom. It was something to consider.

Remember what we wrote? 'And just as I cannot imagine how I survived the past without you... I cannot imagine a future without you.' Remember? Well, I'm the future without her, buddy boy, and I can tell you right now that it's not something you're going to relish.

Running from horrors doesn't help. The only way to deal with them is to meet them head-on.

Some time later, I sat in the wine cellar, staring at the walls while cradling a wineskin in my lap like a child, murmuring over and over as if lulling the child to sleep, 'I am shat upon. I am shat upon'.

The battered and pathetic thing that represented any claim to conscience I might have had turned away from me in disgust. Oddly, I couldn't blame it. I was disgusted myself. Disgusted at my weakness and my lack of resolution, at my refusal to see justice through in the name of the woman who had borne me.

There are some for whom the good of mankind is their primary concern, and others who basically put their own considerations before everyone else. I was among the latter.

Unfortunately, the world does not always act in a manner consistent with one's plans for it.

What about his life on Xenex can possibly apply to your situation. Xenexians don't have Pon Farr." "Granted, Commander. However, they do have their own traditions and customs. One of them is that if a woman of the tribe has become widowed, and she wishes to conceive, thereby fulfilling what is perceived as the woman's role in the tribal order--and please--she put up a hand to forestall exactly what she anticipated Shelby saying--do not spend time telling me that women are capable of fulfilling many more functions besides childbirth. Since you and I have both chosen careers in Starfleet, we can take that to be a given in both our personal philosophies. The point is, if she wishes to conceive, then it is the responsibility of the tribal leader to perform the necessary services. Mackenzie Calhoun was indeed a tribal leader. Therefore I am merely asking him, in a manner of speaking, to fulfill the same obligations." But he's not on Xenex!" pointed out Shelby. "True. And I am not on Vulcan. Our specific geographical location, Commander, is irrelevant. We continue to carry out cultures and backgrounds within us, no matter where we are.

When your heart's been cut out, how's it going to feel knowing that you're the one who wielded the knife?

Youth believes itself immortal. There is a cure for such an attitude, but unfortunately it is a cure from which one never recovers.