Best 1974 quotes in «science fiction quotes» category

A shout from the other side of the hole echoed through the destroyed room. “Hello? Are there injured up here?” Nika smiled. “Sounds like a response team is already here.” “Oh, thank gods.” Maggie slouched against the wall. “You know, waking up out of the blue and being told you’d died weeks earlier, your home’s been destroyed, the government’s been overthrown and a horrible alien species is on their way here to make your death permanent? It’s not as easy to recover from as it sounds.” Nika reached out and hugged her. “I know it’s not. But we are going to survive this. I promise you.

A silent musical note strikes, and a thousand fireflies rise in unison. They move to the music no one else hears. I wonder if I’d sense the tune if I had a soul?

As I said, the Esoli Na was damaged. It had been in orbit around one of their colony planets they call Camillus, when it was attacked by the Nineteenth. The Gar Rei had not joined in any significant conflict with the Nineteenth for some time leading up to the attack and were taken by surprise. Mistakes were made, and many ships were lost attempting to defend the colony.” “Oh yeah? Good. Fuck ’em,” Corbin replied.

Ask very pointed questions. Sharp as sword blades, or laser blasts, if you catch my meaning.

as long as I live, you’ll be My Queen, My Goddess” when their lips parted Aisling finished his quote “your inspiration

Asleep you can experience many hours whilst only a few waking moments have passed. This is why dreams are an ideal platform for training.

As one climbs up the ladders in society, one starts feeling more and more like an owner, less like a member of it.

As one ancient politician said: Any fool could make up a small lie, but to make a big and plausible one . . . such business can be done only by a real genius of science!

As sci-fi writer Theodore Sturgeon said, 90 percent of everything is crap. But science fiction has not been forgiven for its crap. The reason is that science fiction inherently distrusts the 'eternal verities' on which literature graduates base their doctoral dissertations. Literature departments were uncomfortable with that. But things change.

As soon as he had departed she directed her attention to the others. “I need a shielded containment box, radiation gloves and a micro welding torch. And a crescent wrench.

As still and clear as glass, the water seemed to exist solely to mirror the sunset. The wind changed course in the sky, causing wave-like ripples up there. The whole world seemed covered in gold, slate, and cloud, very distinct and separate in places, obscure and entangled in others.

Assume Nothing! Keep your friends close and your enemies closer! Never Forget! Live every day to the fullest! Never take anything for granted!

As the flag of power ascends, it will oppress the masses and enslave its masters. Freedom will fail and the world will be razed to ruin, no matter how honorable the intentions of those in power might have been. It is the inevitable outcome, because the individual is not perfect and, as such, the world will never be.

As the night air started to creep in, he lifted her in his arms and walked the back way to their home on campus. He spent the evening digging her grave, not even caring who came his way. He didn’t care whether he lived or died, now that he had lost his only love. Mike glanced into her face one more time, and then covered her with dirt. “We bury our own. We take care of the ones we love.” He spoke softly, then placed a flower on her grave and made his way back to their dorm room.

As this genre finally, however grudgingly, acknowledges that the dreams of the marginalised matter, and that all of us have a future, so will the world.

As the sky began to darken she sank down in the chair. She had just watched over a thousand Alliance soldiers die in the space of less than a minute. Yet the encounter would be considered a victory, for the enemy was vanquished. But at such a cost. She considered what Alex had asked of her…and began to understand.

As they walked, it seemed almost every building had some similar contrivance as decoration, adorning the street in a cacophony of clangs, bangs and whirs. The street’s surroundings danced with steam and smoke, the scent of oil and grease its perfume.

A suggestion of a trapdoor waiting under every word.

A teleporting cat! Is she yours?" Dr. Daniel McCleod. "Suki

At his booming voice, her eyes flew open. If he wasn't already on the ground, he would have fallen to his knees. Sebastian was instantly lost. The ship fell away and there was only her. The blue of her eyes was indescribable, so light they unabashedly pulled him in. No color imaginable compared. Her eyes turned pleading. For what? He didn't know. But at that moment he would have given it to her.

Athee tossed her hair aside and eyed him expectantly. “I thought I’d ride in the cockpit with you.” “That’s probably not a good idea.” “Why not?” “That’s the co-pilot’s seat.” “Do you have a co-pilot?” “Well, no…” “Then this seat is open.” Byron sighed in exasperation.

At its best, science fiction takes our post-Enlightenment way of understanding the world and extrapolates, using the findings of science and projections concerning the future of technology and putting them at the service of truths expressible through fiction.

At Snortin' Reformatory, a notorious Washington, D.C. jail located in the northern Virginia suburbs, The Afro-Anarchists were being thrown into a cell. It was a situation that the three of them, like many young black males in the D.C. area, had long ago come to expect as a rite of passage. As the door slammed shut behind them, Bucktooth spoke. "Man, Phosphate, they didn't read us our rights or nothin'." "Yeah, Phos,” Fontaine chimed in, "I didn't think they had to beat us, neither. And whoever heard of being charged with singing too loud and off-key in a public establishment? I don't believe there is no kind of law for that shit.

At the entrance of the Führerbunker, a dandelion pushed through the crack between cobblestones. The cadet did not notice that he stepped on it as they entered the bunker. A dark cloud of smoke rose from a burning ministry. Zeller fantasized that the filth that surrounded him was cleansed. He saw himself, a portly and tailored leader in a white uniform with gold epaulets, buttons, and stripes. He imagined himself in an immaculate, white city in Antarctica.

At the quantum level our universe can be seen as an indeterminate place, predictable in a statistical way only when you employ large enough numbers. Between that universe and a relatively predictable one where the passage of a single planet can be timed to a picosecond, other forces come into play. For the in-between universe where we find our daily lives, that which you believe is a dominant force. Your beliefs order the unfolding of daily events. If enough of us believe, a new thing can be made to exist. Belief structure creates a filter through which chaos is sifted into order.

At this moment, in this place, the shifting action potential in my neurons cascade into certain arrangements, patterns, thoughts; they flow down my spine, branch into my arms, my fingers, until muscles twitch and thought is translated into motion; mechanical levers are pressed; electrons are rearranged; marks are made on paper. At another time, in another place, light strikes the marks, reflects into a pair of high-precision optical instruments sculpted by nature after billions of years of random mutations; upside-down images are formed against two screens made up of millions of light-sensitive cells, which translate light into electrical pulses that go up the optic nerves, cross the chiasm, down the optic tracts, and into the visual cortex, where the pulses are reassembled into letters, punctuation marks, words, sentences, vehicles, tenors, thoughts. The entire system seems fragile, preposterous, science fictional.

A twisted, pale figure writhing in agony, chest bare and hideous. Tight, rigid cords of sickly green veins webbed across the boy’s body and limbs, like ropes under his skin. Purplish bruises covered the kid, red hives, bloody scratches. His bloodshot eyes bulged, darting back and forth.

Avery slides on his glasses and opens his eyes again. “Dammit!” he says again with more feeling. “Why does stuff like this keep happening?” “You say that as if it’s a bad thing,” Rob says, smirking.

A wise man does not always admit to everything he knows. And sometimes an overly-credulous friend can be a source of mild amusement.” ~Sherlock Holmes

A whore is a whore is a whore. Except when he's something else completely. From the writings of King Helios Dayspring, High Priest of the Temple of the Sun

A wispy murmur in the blackness. Blackness, where before there was only nothingness. It was dark, inky and thick, but there now existed the palpable sense of tangibility. She gasped in alarm, but no sound came out of her throat. "Where am I?," she shouted, but no words made it past her lips.

A year here and he still dreamed of cyberspace, hope fading nightly. All the speed he took, all the turns he'd taken and the corners he cut in Night City, and he'd still see the matrix in his dreams, bright lattices of logic unfolding across that colourless void... The Sprawl was a long, strange way home now over the Pacific, and he was no Console Man, no cyberspace cowboy. Just another hustler, trying to make it through. But the dreams came on in the Japanese night like livewire voodoo, and he'd cry for it, cry in his sleep, and wake alone in the dark, curled in his capsule in some coffin hotel, hands clawed into the bedslab, temper foam bunched between his fingers, trying to reach the console that wasn't there.

A word can change a mind. A sentence can change a life. A book can change the world.

Because we were the good guys. We were in the right. The universe looks out for people who act with honor in furtherance of an honorable cause. It must, or we never would have gotten this far as a species.” “We won—this little conflict and a thousand like it—because we were destined to win. The universe will allow no other outcome.

Because. Because in all the breadth of time, in all of this scattered light and infinite darkness, in all these millions of years and circumstances and changes and challenges, in the order and chaos, it's brought me to you. How can you see something like that as anything but beautiful?

Be open to ideas and thoughts you disagree with. It will unleash a debate in your mind and soul.

Be gone. You are not welcome here, Beast.”, FADE by Kailin Gow

Being common doesn't make something right.

Being in the belly of the beast has its benefits.

Be like the koru; as you go forward into the forever-changing future, always remain faithful to the point of origin.

Bentley is a good bee with a shaky sense of direction and an appetite for mayhem. Just don't call him a drone. He hates that.

Be Swag

Bees? Are you telling me we have space bees?

Be patient with him. If the same quality did not exist in you, you wouldn’t notice it in him.

Biz Dünyalılar, büyük ve güzel şeyleri yıkmak konusunda hünerliyizdir.

Beyond the queues, the vacancy screens listed jobs in a multitude of languages. Invariably, they were low-paid and short-term dead-ends. Nearby, people in headphones sat at a bank of machines: the blind and the illiterate force-fed with ‘opportunities’ by soothing machine voices. On the far wall, in large print, a poster declared: BEGGARS CANNOT BE CHOOSERS.

Blacker than the night, the wedge penetrated the darkness. An F 117 raced by, the roar from its engines screaming through the interior of the chopper, and then it sliced away a piece of sky and disappeared into the void. -Narrator, Truth Insurrected: The Saint Mary Project

Blood drummed in her ears and adrenaline coursed through her veins, driving her to move. To act. Her hands trembled against his chest. Time vanished out from beneath her feet, one accelerating second at a time.

Blood makes lousy detergent.

Boson forces don't exist in Quantum space. The Light of the World is only found this side of the Timewall.