Best 377 quotes in «scifi quotes» category

Don't bullshit me, Olan. I know when a girl's getting screwed.

Don’t matter none how bad it gets sometimes. You can always turn this shit around.

Don’t talk. Don’t sputter out a solitary protest or it will be your last. Take me to them.” “Who the f**k are you?” He palmed the man’s forehead and slammed his skull against the wall. “I said don’t talk, and you want to do as I say. I’m the one thing monsters like you and your kind fear. I’m what haunts your nightmares and hunts you in the darkness.

Don't worry about it. If I'm wrong, Security is monitoring me every second." "That just means they'll know who to charge with your murder," said Forrice. "Are you always this optimistic?" "I have to be an optimist," explained Forrice. "I won't have anyone to tease if they kill you.

Do you know what an Asterion is?” “Do you?” Nika caught herself before she flinched, frowned, gasped or gave any other outward sign of surprise, but it was definitely not the response she’d anticipated. “Explain your answer.” “If you were capable of comprehending my explanation, my answer would no longer be needed. I will instead give you the answer you were expecting: Asterions are a species of hybrid synthetic-organic beings of moderate sapience who practice self-directed evolution.” Moderate sapience? She bit back a tart retort; a diplomat never got offended or angry unless they intended to do so.

Do you know what the people will say about this day thousands of years from now? What they will say about these creatures and their valiant last stand? Nothing... because we will not tell them. Oblivion is all there is for--

Dwell in the past, worry about the future and find misery in the present.

Each time Olan Chapman comes to life, his anti-quarks remain on the far side of the Time Wall. After his life cycle ends, his quarks collapse back to these roots, and – presto – America's most wanted man is ready for his next adventure.

―El cambio climático provocó ciertas modificaciones. ―Eso lo sé ―le interrumpió―. Los polos de la Tierra se derritieron. Las aguas abnegaron la superficie terrestre y solo algunas zonas sobrevivieron, adaptándose a condiciones muy extremas como Antiqua Canadá, conquistada por la nieve y el hielo. »El resto del mundo sobrevive gracias a las grandes estructuras artificiales que se construyeron. Enormes urbes donde los puentes, viaductos y carreteras colgantes, dominan el paisaje de una civilización en la que ve, cada noche, 306 cómo el agua podría avanzar por sus calles sin ningún control, si no fuera gracias a las presas o diques que se han levantado en sus orillas. »Todo es artificial, Gabriel. ―Volvió a golpear con su pie el suelo―. La mayoría de los animales, por no decir todos, se han extinguido. Hay especies vegetales que no llegué a conocer. Y ahora… ―Miró lo que les rodeaba para devolver su atención al hombre―. Ahora mi mundo, las ideas que me han inculcado desde niña, han cambiado.

Evening had turned the sky a deep persimmon. The remaining sunlight enriched the colors of the ubiquitous flowers and foliage to even greater vibrancy, as if the saturation filter had been notched up several levels. Caleb noted all this in passing as he strode deliberately forward. He didn’t know how he was going to do this, only that he had to make the attempt.

Everytime he looked at her she felt brighter inside, and she yearned to keep his attention, to hold his gaze.

Every Forsaken in a mile radius can probably hear you. You’re just asking for trouble if you two don’t stop whipping out the measuring stick.” “It’s his fault,” Avery snaps, pointing at Julian. “Shut up, ya wanker.” They start in on each other again. They yell as if they both have megaphones to their mouths, standing inches apart. Each vulgar insult is more illogical than the last.

Expect an army of Vigil drones, nearly as a many Praesidis guards, a Machim ground detachment of super-soldiers and at least one Inquisitor. Oh, and security barriers everywhere. Possibly some of those mechs we met on Helix Retention, too. You Humans have kicked off a shitstorm of epic proportions.” Alex spread her arms wide in an exagerrated shrug. “It’s one of our best skills.

Fragmentation is the natural destiny of all power.

For such a worldly, surly bastard, Bas had always been incredibly innocent. Always seen the best in people.

Freedom is a state of mind.

Frankly, Olan couldn't hit a bull in the ass with a ping pong paddle.

Games are never over because you think them so! Which is why I like you. Are you doing what you want to do...or are you simply another piece of a darkened puzzle? Your own actions predetermined by powers higher than yourself?

Funny isn't it? The power of story. It's why I picked up a pen. I slay monsters, too.

Gage is waiting on the makeshift bed when she enters the room she’s been sleeping in. The small lantern in the corner barely lights his features. His shoulders are hunched, his hands clasped together before him, and when he looks up, his face is downcast. There are a number of reasons why he would look this way, but the worst possible thing comes to mind first. Someone is dead.

From up here, the city below looked calm. Peaceful. Serene. It was a lie. Mia could feel the lie in her bones, in the foreboding creeping along the fine hairs on her skin. But mostly she could feel it in her head, where preparations were underway across Romane to meet the coming chaos.

GoogleEarthlike soars his mind, through clouds where snowstorms brew; New York State has dropped away, and Massachusetts flew, and Newfoundland is ice-entombed and Rockall gull-beshatten, where no eye sees the lightning flash its momentary pattern …

Gods take whoever designed this crawlspace and jam them inside a sardine can. Then put that sardine can inside a pill box and shoot both into a black hole. Ugh, and I am having a very long discussion with Orn and his habit of throwing old candy sticks through the grates!

Goodnight baby, sleep in peace. After you kill that bitch!" "Goodnight mom!

Good science fiction has its roots in good science.

Glacier blue plasma rippled and sparked across the interior of the portal. “It seems keeping secrets is what you do.” “Secrets are merely the necessary means. Survival is the end goal. Survival of ourselves, survival of species who do not deserve to be eradicated from the universe. Survival of the universe itself.” “Survival’s noble and all, but what good is it without the freedom to live as you choose?” “A question you have the luxury to ask because you survive.

He had them as spellbound as a room full of Ewoks listening to C-3PO.

He checked her over while mentally checking himself. “Environment suits sealed up. Breather masks in hand. Daemons. Blades. Transmitters. Healthy respect for the adversary—you’ve got that, right?” One corner of her mouth curled up. “Absolutely.

He glared at Lucian in the manner of birds, first peering through one eye and then turning his head to peer through the other, apparently finding both views equally loathsome.

He had never experienced anything like this before outside the Zone. And it had happened in the Zone only two or three times. It was as though he were in a different world. A million odors cascaded in on him at once—sharp, sweet, metallic, gentle, dangerous ones, as crude as cobblestones, as delicate and complex as watch mechanisms, as huge as a house and as tiny as a dust particle. The air became hard, it developed edges, surfaces, and corners, like space was filled with huge, stiff balloons, slippery pyramids, gigantic prickly crystals, and he had to push his way through it all, making his way in a dream through a junk store stuffed with ancient ugly furniture … It lasted a second. He opened his eyes, and everything was gone. It hadn't been a different world—it was this world turning a new, unknown side to him. This side was revealed to him for a second and then disappeared, before he had time to figure it out.

He holds her with the strength of a million-man army, but with all the tenderness of her heart lying naked in the palms of his hands.

He made sure his tone remained casual. He was trying to keep his son unaware of the encroaching alien invasion for as long as he could, be it another day or another hour. Once innocence was lost it was never regained. So he took his son fishing and strolled along the river and pretended as though the galaxy wasn’t on fire.

He pointed to the burning building as sirens heralded the approach of emergency personnel. “This is your job—this is your life. Blood and death and pain and vengeance and justice. And sometimes it sucks, but it’s worth it.” Caleb sighed, but not in resignation. “I know this is the job, and it is worth it. But I refuse to believe it’s my life. Not only and not forever.” Samuel pinched the bridge of his nose and waved dismissively with his other hand. “F***ing romantic.

He’s focused on something—or someone—over her shoulder. The harmonious warbling of the rainforest morphs into organized disarray, as if a primitive maestro has thrown conducting to the wind and let Mother Nature take over. Birds trill a warning as the breeze rustles the plant life. Wings flutter overhead. A crescendo of stridulation changes tempo, the insects seemingly performing a sonata as the rhythm shifts yet again. “What—who is it?” Summer asks in a strained whisper. His gaze lands on her, his brows furrowing. “The Forsaken.

Her mind drew him in, hid his image at its center, folded over him, the world slid into place, the chaos ceased.

Her perception was propelled backward, as if it were being pulled into a vortex. She slammed into her body, and her eyes flew open with a gasp. “Alex?” She sat straight up in the chair and grabbed Caleb by the shoulders. “We have to save them.

...he slipped into the hallway with a second-hand paperback copy of 'The Mote in God's Eye' under one arm, intending to read it in a quiet corner of Misto's coffee shop. He deemed the book to have previously been read on a sultry tropical beach, given that its yellowed pages were as corrugated as a ploughed field.

Her head dropped into her hands. Dammit! She’d spent months preparing for the challenges of a war against an immortal enemy wielding vastly superior numbers. She’d spent years preparing for the challenges of leading an assemblage of disparate fleets headed by disparate personalities. But it had never occurred to her to prepare for the challenges of her dead husband walking back into her life in the middle of both. She had no idea what to do, but she was fairly certain she was doing it wrong.

Her teeth clattered together like banging cymbals. Her fingernails glowed white, and her heart stuttered over two beats. “Input. It. Now.” “Done!” Let go, Nika. All you have to do is let go. She focused on her fingers, which seemed to be glued to the conduit, and directed every conscious process to willing them apart millimeter by— —she flew backward across the room and slammed into what remained of a wall.

He slid her a skeptical look. “What is that?” She almost laughed at the suspicion in his face. “Food. Real food. Didn’t you eat?” He frowned. “Not any of that.” “You’re missing out. You can’t get anything like this out of a replicator.” “You can get anything out of a replicator.” She grinned and held up the burger. “Not like this. Not anything this juicy.

He stood on the ice, his teeth chattering in the cold, a cold that seemed to come not from the lake water or icy wind, but from a direct transmission from outer space.

He wasn’t going to be able to deactivate the field, which meant there was only one choice. He’d realized early on that his arcane, profoundly alien passenger came with a cost, possibly one too high to pay and get out the other side free and clear. He’d pay it nonetheless and without complaint if the diati would only come through for him now. Caleb closed his eyes.

Hey, hey, show some respect for your elders.' Oh, if only you knew my psychological age, woman. 'You're not big enough to speak to me in that tone.' 'Tell my bruises that. My shoulder is still sore,' I lied, without batting an eyelid.

Hey this is terrific!" Zaphod said. "Someone down there is trying to kill us!

I admit you’ve all proved me wrong, thus far. But remember, at the time we were barely two centuries away from the SAI Rebellion, and the bloodbath we fled still burned bitterly in our souls. “The Anadens? They were not a peaceful people. Oh, they loved to climb up on their pillars and proclaim their evolutionary superiority. But when you got down to it, they took what they wanted, by force if necessary. They crushed dissent when it became inconvenient, as we learned the hard way. They were bullies and tyrants, and they were us.

His vision blurred, his grip on the dash faltered and the cockpit lost definition. Then all the diati rushed back to him in its own shockwave. The physical force slammed him against the cockpit half-wall. He gasped air into his lungs as a crimson aura throbbed above his skin. The world spun around him, and it occurred to him if he wanted to he could control it—not the spinning, but the world.

How did a child of ten find out about a three and a half hundred years old children's show?!

Humanity is a spectator sport. God is the spectator.

I could smell death in the air and I knew it was mine. I could see the world spinning around me and I could sense the blows being thrust into my body. I blacked out.

I appreciate your thinking on me, marshal, but ain’t no trouble of his what ain’t trouble of mine, too.