Best 127 quotes in «steampunk quotes» category

Rejoice in the colours…

Sespian opened his mouth, paused, closed it, then shook his head ruefully. "It's very easy to be drawn into what you're saying, and I catch myself wanting to nod and agree. Maybe I should take notes on your technique." Amaranthe blushed and felt like she should stutter an apology, but she hadn't done anything to be embarrassed about, had she? "It's her eyes", Sicarius said, startling her.. Yara glanced over her shoulder at him, apparently, surprised to hear him speak, but soon turned her attention back to the tracks. She seemed to be believe she should remain silent for the discussion. Sespian scratched his jaw. "Yes, maybe so. They're like a doe's. Warm and earnest and..." "Wholesome. Sicarius's eyes glinted, and Amaranthe scowled at him.

Rigg shrugged. “I know it makes you feel better, but I think it’s arrogant to believe in anything anyway.” “Is that so?” “Yeah,” Rigg said, frowning at the clouds. “No one can really know what’s out there. People are too small in the grand scheme of things. Saying we know and understand the gods is like a bug saying they know and understand our airships. They don’t and they can’t.” Hari smiled. “Fair enough.

Seriously man, what are you waiting for? Get in there - or I will." - Marek Montvene

She found it hard to ignore the uncomfortable feelings that emerged or the delicious smell of him, all earth and amber. Her hand twitched with the desire to run her fingers through his rust-red hair.

She gathered herself up- rather like collecting her skirts before mounting a carriage

She gathered herself up- rather like collecting her skirts before mountibg a carriage

She wanted to make sure she studied all the manuals thoroughly, but she had to admit that part of her hesitation was the unsettling length of the list of things that could go wrong if she mishandled the pressure.

She holstered her weapon, raising the hem of her skirts and stepping lightly around the dead bodies.

Simon’s baby,” he said, rocking on his heels. “Simon’s baby girl. But you are too many, much too many to be Simon’s baby girl. How many are you?” “Seventeen,” I whispered. He was still uncomfortably close. “Lane!” he shouted. I jumped. “Do I have a niece of seventeen?” “Yes,” came Lane’s voice from the door. The old man relaxed. “Then that is as it should be. Lane always knows when things are as they should be. Where is your father, little niece?

So, did you hold back during that test?" "Maybe a little," Sophronia admitted. Soap grinned. "That's my girl." Sophronia glared at him. He was getting familiar. "You are, miss." He continued to grin. "I'm my own girl, thank you very much.

She is mad, and I am sane. To speak to her, even the first word, would be an acknowledgement and an acceptance of her madness, and from there I would have no choice but to follow her down the hole until both of us would be here alone in this ship among the clouds, endlessly circling the earth, our needs carefully ministered to by mechanical men, howling ourselves hoarse and counting off the ticks of the clock before the moon falls out of the sky.

Soffia le ultime parole, sorreggendosi a me. È creta tra le mie dita che tremano. Sì, tremano perché vorrebbero farla sentire al sicuro, invece sono io ad angosciarla. Non le rispondo – Cosa potrei risponderle? – ma la forgio al mio petto, tra le pareti di questo corridoio buio più della mia anima, più del nostro futuro, più delle certezze: Rose è la sola luce nella mia esistenza programmata, il solo astro capace di rischiarire le tenebre del cuore.

Some people loathe the act of killing a person at first, but as they continue to do it, it can feel like a game. They can begin to feel superior, like the winner of the game. But, if the reaper has to save a life for every life they take, it keeps them humble. It’s a matter of subservience so the reaper doesn’t begin to think of himself stronger than he is.

Soon our culture's oldest dreams will be made real. Even the thought of sending a kind of flying craft to the moon is no longer nothing more than a child's fantasy. At this moment in the cities below us, the first mechanical men are being constructed that will have the capability to pilot the ship on its maiden voyage. But no one has asked if this dream we've had for so long will lose its value once it's realized. What will happen when those mechanical men step out of their ship and onto the surface of this moon, which has served humanity for thousands of years as our principal icon of love and madness? When they touch their hands to the ground and perform their relentless analyses and find no measurable miracles, but a dead gray world of rocks and dust? When they discover that it was the strength of millions of boyhood daydreams that kept the moon aloft, and that without them that murdered world will fall, spiraling slowly down and crashing into the open sea?

So this is how the merchant ship won’t follow us,” I mumbled, “They aren’t insane enough to join the party.

Sometimes he felt as if he'd been born in the wrong century. The people of this time were all wrong for him, and he was all wrong for them. But he refused to become something he wasn't just for society's approval.

Some days, the sheer amount of enemies we attracted made me question if maybe our crew was a little too trigger happy. That maybe we’d pissed in too many pots without thinking of the consequences. But then I remembered most folks couldn’t hold to a basic code of honor if it killed them. And kill them we did. Repeatedly.

Steampunk is Victorian science fiction

The cracks grew over him like vines, faster and faster. At first he bucked, whinnying metallic screeches. Then he gradually stilled, looking up at me with frightened glass eyes. He was growing. New, molten glass leeched out between his fissures, cooled and hardened only to crack again and make room for more liquid glass. The gears inside him moaned and creaked, and metal filings gathered at the base of his transparent stomach, only to fly up again and form more joints and chains and gears. Black smoke poured from his nostrils. Soon he was the size of a large dog, then a man, and still he grew and grew until he towered over my bed, as big as any plow horse I’d ever seen. Glass dripped down his flanks like sweat, a few rivulets still glowing with molten heat.

The landscape here was strange. It was some type of forest, with giant vines that grew into spirals, round and round, growing up fifty metres toward the sky. They were massive. Some were fifteen metres across, narrowing as they rose.

The last thing I remembered was joining the crew in a rendition of “Take to the Sky,” but the rest of the time blurred after I drank absinthe with the Captain.

The machines of this place are failing, and the woman and I are here all alone. The perpetual motion engine, as brilliant and beautiful as it is, is running down—nothing lasts forever. But before this little world falls out of the sky there still might be time enough for redemption. There is still time for me to say the words that I should have had the courage to say at the beginning. There is still time, perhaps, for one more miracle. Hello, Miranda.

The Girauds' child was looking more and more like a problem. Luke pressed his lips into a thin line. When she'd leaned in the stagecoach blazing with fervor over what was in the arcane books, it had taken all his willpower not to throw a bolt of magic to stop her heart.

Theo heaved a sigh, not bothering to hide her irritation. “You get the satisfaction of being a decent man for once.” Silas snorted. “That’s not a barter in the slightest. Offer me something worthwhile.

That is the difference between great men and small, we great are willing to do the hard things, the uncomfortable things to ensure we succeed.

The odd was the ordinary at Alistair Grim's. The people who lived there were odd. The things they did there were odd. Even the there itself there was odd.

There are creatures in this world, small things and pretty things, which burn within them a fire for survival.

The tools of their trade were simple, effective things: iron knuckles, saps and the like. But the iconic tool of the scuttler arsenal was a woven leather belt with a heavy iron or brass buckle used to decrease intelligence one wallop at a time.

They were all machines, he thought, just like La Mettrie had said in L'Homme Machine all those years ago. So he, Orphan, was a machine of flesh and blood, and Lucy, now, was made of something else, more complex perhaps- but they were the same and... They were in love. Sometimes that was enough.

This is the time of myths, Orphan. They are the cables that run under the floors and power the world, the conduits of unseen currents, the steam that powers the great engines of the earth.

The way he spoke to me, the admiration in his gaze, reminded me so, so much of myself staring at Morris, eyes reaching for the stars.

These violators responded only as cowards could. They ran.

This time he had no choice but to look into her eyes. He did not look away. It was the bright fierce gaze that she remembered so vividly from their first meeting. He’d reminded her of an eagle, the Castellan of Amyth

Through the haze, bulbous shapes drifted to and fro about the town. Silka guessed they were the dirigibles of which her father had sometimes spoken--great elongated bags of gas ribbed and hung with gondolas, powered by grinding engines, gouting steam, and sparks as they cruised like airborne pigs, filled with passengers and cargoes.

Ticchettio d'ingranaggi. Rumore di pistoni. Sbuffi di vapore. Boyle. Rufus Leddy Boyle, lo scienziato pazzo. Henry sentì crescere dentro di sé la paura, come albume d'uovo montato a neve. In che mani era finito? Tentò ancora di muoversi, ma invano. L'ombra dell'uomo che aveva appena parlato gli coprì il viso. «So che potete sentirmi, lord Demison. Sono il colonnello Comask». Pausa. Anche l'uomo chiamato “dottor Boyle” entrò nel campo visivo di Henry. Poi il colonnello proseguì: «Avete servito egregiamente la corona, ma date le circostanze, credo che sia opportuno congedarvi. Non c'è urgenza di recuperare i documenti. E, almeno per il momento, la vostra missione è compiuta». Fece un saluto militare. «Ci rivedremo a Londra». Salutò il dottore e se ne andò. Henry era ancora impossibilitato a muoversi. Vide il dottor Boyle farsi più vicino e togliersi gli occhialini di protezione. Gli lesse negli occhi una strana mescolanza di orgoglio e compassione. «Bentornato tra i civili, lord Demison», disse l'uomo con insolita dolcezza. «E benvenuto nella vostra nuova vita».

Torque was the greatest thing in the world, as far as Lina was concerned.

Trust me, there are things in this mountain that will make your jaw bounce off the floor.

We learned the seven traditional ways to make words unclear." "Seven? That many? Which was the most effective?" "Poor grammar skills.

What do you mean, my life is at risk?" I questioned. "From one of the other professors?" "Oh, it goes much deeper than that, Freddy," he said with a half crazed, wide eyed smile. Leaning in, he whispered, "I stole something.

Whatever you do, don’t make it worse by trying to come up with some flimsy excuse for why you were in the ventilation shaft, Lina told herself.

What is it, you ask?" Kali said, trying to cover her surprise with nonchalant words. "I haven't thought of a name yet. Got any ideas?" "Shit," the pirate said, said of. The gag made elocution difficult. "That wouldn't impress anyone at the patent office.

We're fragile things, Harb. It doesn't look like it but we are. We're here one minute, and just like that, we're gone. The Peacemakers (The Nemesis Engines)

What makes us the strongest tribe on the continent is the fact that a group that opposes these values--a group that would have mankind remain in the new dark ages--is permitted to grow, permitted to exist...and, after it becomes a violent terrorist organization, is allowed to live on it own lands, taken out of the lands of those it has attacked and continues to attack!" He had to stop speaking then--the applause was louder than even his amplified voice. "They expect that fear will drive us to become like them...closed-minded, blind, angry. Our society will remain open and free so long as I am standing upright," he continued, once the applause died down.

We do not need you. Do not come unless I call you.” Ricard crawled out of bed and shut the door as the steam men moved down the hall. “Dumb things.” Ricard - As Timeless As Stone

What I wouldn’t give for a little old smuggling job.

When John-Joseph Heller's fights became too much of a sure thing, story has it he moved on to more risky fights with grown men and even starved dogs. Though he was scarred often, he was never beaten. But as he brought each opponent to his knees, John-Joseph Heller was also growing up and his vision began to extend further than the ring.

You’d be surprised what an eleven-year-old can get away with.” —Tuppence

When you read my stories, I want you to see the world through my eyes; as if I based my work on you. Come away with me, and I'll show you a world that you've never seen before or ever want to leave.

You have a way of turning the established order on its head.” Instantly regretting that, he forced his face to relax; Lynx must not see anger in his eyes.