Best 516 quotes in «aliens quotes» category

The piggies were not to be disturbed-

The physical universe was a language with a perfectly ambiguous grammar. Every physical event was an utterance that could be parsed in two entirely different ways, one casual and the other teleological, both valid, neither one disqualifiable no matter how much context was available.

The progeny will be lost and adrift. Without the integrals reinforcing their focus and purpose, they will begin to question both.” “Sator, this is not a bad thing. Humans spend years struggling to figure out what they want to do with their lives, then often revisit the question at multiple points in the course of living it. It’s in our nature.” “Commandant, I’m sure I need not remind you that we are not Human.” “No. But perhaps when this is over, you will become a bit more so.

The problem with ID, of course, is that it leaves open the possibility that the intelligence behind nature may have a moral interest in us, having communicated already with humanity in the past, and might try to boss you around in your private affairs. With hypothetical advanced aliens residing at a safely distant address in the hypothetical multiverse, that is - to the relief of folks like Gribbin, Dawkins and the New Scientist - manifestly not the case.

There are places on planet earth, where common sense doesn't apply.

There can never be a clock at the center of the Universe to which everyone can set their watches. Your entire life can be the blink of an eye to an alien who leaves Earth traveling close to the speed of light, then returns an hour later to find that you have been dead for centuries.

There, in the middle of the street, Daria Porters stumbled toward the entrance on bare feet, her clothes mud caked and torn and her hair poofing out from her head in random, tangled spikes. The real Daria Porters. The Daria Porters who was supposed to still be in a stasis chamber for another thirty-six hours. Oh, Goddess.

There was an electric buzzing sound that was constantly on, acting as background music like a million cicadas in the forest. A constant white noise.

There’s a fascinating frailty of the human mind that psychologists know all about, called “argument from ignorance.” This is how it goes. Remember what the “U” stands for in “UFO”? You see lights flashing in the sky. You’ve never seen anything like this before and don’t understand what it is. You say, “It’s a UFO!” The “U” stands for “unidentified.” But then you say, “I don’t know what it is; it must be aliens from outer space, visiting from another planet.” The issue here is that if you don’t know what something is, your interpretation of it should stop immediately. You don’t then say it must be X or Y or Z. That’s argument from ignorance. It’s common. I’m not blaming anybody; it may relate to our burning need to manufacture answers because we feel uncomfortable about being steeped in ignorance.

These were not the aliens out beaming anyone up. If anything, they'd be the ones providing apologetic form letters to the inconveniently beamed-up.

There were no colonies on Earth. It was all a scam the Martians were using to con the rest of the universe. There had been no first contact. Her knees quivered, and all her muscles tensed. She was first contact.

The sense of alienation that inspires wonder, awe and fear in us is enough of a proof that life does not belong to the planet Earth.

The system is only as good as its leaders. When they fail—when the system fails—you better damn well hope I’m there to pick up the slack.” The man’s glower lost some of its fervor. “No one appointed you humanity’s protector.” “No one had to—and if you don’t understand why that is, then you’re not nearly the man I was told you are. I’m leaving now, and I’m going to assume we’re done. But if you threaten me again, you had better bring help.

The tallest slugger touched my forehead, and I ignited like a sparkler on the Fourth of July. Shards of dazzling light rippled under my skin. I was the constellation Grus. The Trifid Nebula. I was the Big Bang, expanding endlessly through time and space forever. "I thought I was dying. That I was going to expire on a cold slab, trapped inside an UFO, my body filled with every light that had ever existed. I couldn't imagine a better way to die.

The universe is more than thirteen billion years old. What is the value of a single kiss compared to that?

The truth is, we’ve had a fairly uneventful stay in the Gennisi galaxy. We staked our claim to our little corner of it and settled in, happy to be left alone to live how we chose. “But this doesn’t mean there aren’t grave threats out in the cosmos—more terrifying than our imaginations can conjure—or remarkable wonders beyond our capacity to envision. It shouldn’t be a surprise that when we finally went looking, we discovered one of them.” Nika nodded thoughtfully and shut off the map. “Well, I guess it’s time for us to go find out which one.

The utopian candy shell melted away to a hard center of bizarre reality.

They do not like evidence like that, anything too definite because our first instinct is to find flaws and debunk. They want to be discussed and portrayed, but never proven. They want to be credited as the true makers of the pyramids and lifters of Stonehenge when it had much more to do with the gods who were then extant.

They each raised their glasses from the puddles on the table, and clinked them together in celebration. They weren't sure what they were celebrating, but more than anything it felt like they were celebrating that exact moment in time and all of the incredible events that had to take place for it to have existed in time at all.

The woman’s gaze sent chills racing down his spine. The diabolical, aberrantly predatory arch of her lips curdled his blood. Seriously, his blood must be curdling back at the lab right now. “Nice illusion. I’m definitely feeling the evil vibe here.” She stood and rounded the desk with perfect grace. “There is no illusion. Explain yourself quickly now, before I grow bored by your presence and dispense with it.

They have come dressed as robots or space goddesses or aliens because a writer has changed their lives.

They had thought it was uncharacteristic of him to try and eat his cigarette in the driveway.

This capacity to fold the completely weird into daily life, to make the aliens ourselves, is a quality I look for in a good, weird book.

They say nothing!" the little captain raged. "They only putrid gunner, ship engineer. I, Ba-Karkar, must speak for all!" Ogu kicked him again. "Then ask what kind help Asahel wants, untranslatable epithet male. Or no more untranslatable for you! Never again in putrid boomer prison." Her husband gave a choked gasp. "Cruel female!" "No more sex, either," she added.

They were afraid the longer we pretended to be human, the more human we would become.” “And who would want that?” “I didn’t think I would,” he admits. “Until I became one.” “When you…‘woke up’ in Evan?” He shakes his head and says simply, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “When I woke up in you, Cassie. I wasn’t fully human until I saw myself in your eyes.” And then there are real human tears in his real human eyes, and it’s my turn to hold him while his heart breaks. My turn to see myself in his eyes. Somebody might say that I’m not the only one lying in the enemy’s arms. I am humanity, but who is Evan Walker? Human and Other. Both and neither. By loving me, he belongs to no one. He doesn’t see it that way.

They were once fairies and elves. Now they are creatures from beyond the stars because you no longer believe in anything but humans.

This wasn’t the Lillie he’d left that night nine years ago. His Lillie was all fire and shooting rockets. His Lillie wasn’t like any woman he’d ever known. His Lillie… wasn’t his anymore.

This is what the Others have done to us. You can’t band together to fight without trust. And without trust, there was no hope. How do you rid the Earth of humans? Rid the humans of their humanity.

This particular type of road was a motorway. A motorway is the most advanced type of road there is, which as with most forms of human advancement essentially meant accidental death was considerably more probable.

This thought, this truth, it highlighted the distance between us. We lived in different timeframes. A reminder that, even right now, we didn't share the same moments. We could never truly be together.

To my mirrors, The aliens and the CIA secretly watching me, and any spirits stuck in my room, sorry guys. I know look batshit crazy each time I start reciting a bunch of monologues in my dramatic "film voice" after I finish watching a movie.

Varzo looked with shame at her boots. “Look, I wasn’t serious, alright? It was just a thought.” Mercy shook her head. “Shitty thoughts become shitty actions, kid. You really gone your entire life without recognizing there's ah link between the two?

Two blue men the size of football players walking through a store wrapped in Roman gladiator armor was bound to attract attention.

Uh-uh. We are not even going to start with the whole I come in peace thing, E.T.

Tunazaliwa na kufa. Lakini hatujui tunakotoka. Wala hatujui tunakokwenda. Huenda tunatoka na kwenda katika dunia nyingine, ya ulimwengu mwingine, hivyo kutufanya wageni wa dunia yetu wenyewe. Acha dunia katika hali nzuri kuliko ulivyoikuta.

Wait awhile, and everything will change." ~'Griblich

Varzo shrugged. “My people have given them good reason to be biased. The last time you were open and trusting . . . we invaded,” she said unhappily. “Yeah,” muttered the boy just as unhappily. “But while there is good reason for caution, there is never a good reason for hatred, hmm?” He glanced at Varzo and lifted his brows meaningfully.

We ain't alone in this universe. We just don't wanna be disturbed.

WE ARE HUMANITY ~Ben

We are all cursed. We live in the era of the curse. A world that cannot be fixed. The best thing would be an alien ship. Another planet. One with three moons. But you, I saw you in my dreams. I saw you coming. You came to heal my broken heart. That's why I named you Ahlam.

We are humanity, the banner read. Wrong. We’re pale reflections of it, weak shadows, distant echoes.

We aren't just defined by who we are, but by who are friends are. It's funny that we put so much importance on something that wont mean shit once we graduate.

We don’t have a Giant Aliens “R” Us or we’d be there.

We are tiny figures, pointing at wonders, provided for scale, no lives of our own, surveying the landscape that has engulfed us all.

we can watch x-files together while we browse the internet for info on area 51?

We conquer the Independence Day aliens by having a Macintosh laptop computer upload a software virus to the mothership (which happens to be one-fifth the mass of the Moon), thus disarming its protective force field. I don’t know about you, but back in 1996 I had trouble just uploading files to other computers within my own department, especially when the operating systems were different. There is only one solution: the entire defense system for the alien mothership must have been powered by the same release of Apple Computer’s system software as the laptop computer that delivered the virus.

We expect aliens to contact with us! If they do contact, what will be the best thing we can offer to them? Of course our human values, what else can it be!

Well,” Harry said, “look at it this way: Suppose you were an intelligent bacterium floating in space, and you came upon one of our communication satellites, in orbit around the Earth. You would think, What a strange, alien object this is, let’s explore it. Suppose you opened it up and crawled inside. You would find it very interesting in there, with lots of huge things to puzzle over. But eventually you might climb into one of the fuel cells, and the hydrogen would kill you. And your last thought would be: This alien device was obviously made to test bacterial intelligence and to kill us if we make a false step. “Now, that would be correct from the standpoint of the dying bacterium. But that wouldn’t be correct at all from the standpoint of the beings who made the satellite. From our point of view, the communications satellite has nothing to do with intelligent bacteria. We don’t even know that there are intelligent bacteria out there. We’re just trying to communicate, and we’ve made what we consider a quite ordinary device to do it.

We have a very short window in which to accomplish a great deal, one measured in minutes rather than hours. “We succeed, and we will have freed dozens of galaxies and species from tyranny. We succeed, and we will have saved our home, our friends and our loved ones from the looming threat of annihilation. We succeed, and everyone has a future. So let’s get it done.

We have a predator that came from the depths of the cosmos and took over the rule of our lives. Human beings are its prisoners. The Predator is our lord and master. It has rendered us docile, helpless. If we want to protest, it suppresses our protest. If we want to act independently, it demands that we don't do so... I have been beating around the bush all this time, insinuating to you that something is holding us prisoner. Indeed we are held prisoner! "This was an energetic fact for the sorcerers of ancient Mexico ... They took us over because we are food for them, and they squeeze us mercilessly because we are their sustenance. just as we rear chickens in chicken coops, the predators rear us in human coops, humaneros. Therefore, their food is always available to them." "No, no, no, no," [Carlos replies] "This is absurd don Juan. What you're saying is something monstrous. It simply can't be true, for sorcerers or for average men, or for anyone." "Why not?" don Juan asked calmly. "Why not? Because it infuriates you? ... You haven't heard all the claims yet. I want to appeal to your analytical mind. Think for a moment, and tell me how you would explain the contradictions between the intelligence of man the engineer and the stupidity of his systems of beliefs, or the stupidity of his contradictory behaviour. Sorcerers believe that the predators have given us our systems of belief, our ideas of good and evil, our social mores. They are the ones who set up our hopes and expectations and dreams of success or failure. They have given us covetousness, greed, and cowardice. It is the predators who make us complacent, routinary, and egomaniacal." "'But how can they do this, don Juan? [Carlos] asked, somehow angered further by what [don Juan] was saying. "'Do they whisper all that in our ears while we are asleep?" "'No, they don't do it that way. That's idiotic!" don Juan said, smiling. "They are infinitely more efficient and organized than that. In order to keep us obedient and meek and weak, the predators engaged themselves in a stupendous manoeuvre stupendous, of course, from the point of view of a fighting strategist. A horrendous manoeuvre from the point of view of those who suffer it. They gave us their mind! Do you hear me? The predators give us their mind, which becomes our mind. The predators' mind is baroque, contradictory, morose, filled with the fear of being discovered any minute now." "I know that even though you have never suffered hunger... you have food anxiety, which is none other than the anxiety of the predator who fears that any moment now its manoeuvre is going to be uncovered and food is going to be denied. Through the mind, which, after all, is their mind, the predators inject into the lives of human beings whatever is convenient for them. And they ensure, in this manner, a degree of security to act as a buffer against their fear." "The sorcerers of ancient Mexico were quite ill at ease with the idea of when [the predator] made its appearance on Earth. They reasoned that man must have been a complete being at one point, with stupendous insights, feats of awareness that are mythological legends nowadays. And then, everything seems to disappear, and we have now a sedated man. What I'm saying is that what we have against us is not a simple predator. It is very smart, and organized. It follows a methodical system to render us useless. Man, the magical being that he is destined to be, is no longer magical. He's an average piece of meat." "There are no more dreams for man but the dreams of an animal who is being raised to become a piece of meat: trite, conventional, imbecilic.