Best 377 quotes in «scifi quotes» category

Coordinates streamed into her mind while she yanked on her environment suit, foregoing every safety check she’d ever learned. ‘Alex, we will try to help him together, but it is far too dangerous—’ She grabbed the module she used to access the circuitry of the ship, bypassed Valkyrie and fired up the Caeles Prism. ‘Alex—’ She opened a wormhole in the middle of the cabin, set its exit point at the coordinates Valkyrie had provided, and ran through it.

Cress . . . " He seemed torn, but also hopeful and unguarded. He took a deep breath. "She looked like you.

Cyborgification is simply the process of compensating technologically for the inherent limitations of natural man.

Dashiel’s jacket slid off his shoulders to land on the floor as he headed straight to the kitchen, fumbled in the cabinet for a glass and poured sake into it until the liquid spilt over the brim onto the counter. His hand shook as he picked up the glass, spilling more of the sake to trickle between his knuckles as he brought it to his lips. A single droplet sloshed onto his tongue. The sweet nectar of oblivion. The harbinger of a fog rolling in to sweep away the pain in favor of blissful stupor— —he hurled the glass across the room. It shattered on impact with the far sturdier window glass, and a hundred tiny shards joined the sake in decorating the floor.

Death whispers your name to me.

Crushed sandstone sifted through Caleb’s fingers, insubstantial as dust. A breeze caught the debris mid-fall and spirited it away before it could join the ashes blanketing the ground. He stopped in the middle of what had once been a street, his arms pulled in at his sides, his fists balled in barely restrained fury.

Después de 10 años de matrimonio era todavía lo suficientemente estúpido como para seguir enamorado de ella.

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

Do I look that bad?’ I said, my voice quavering with the rejection that I was ashamed for even caring about. ‘Is that what this is all about? How ugly I look?’ Patrick kept his eyes on the back wall of the cave. ‘If you really have to know, it’s the opposite of that,’ he said, his voice taking on a tender tone. ‘I think you are the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.

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.

Fragmentation is the natural destiny of all power.

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.

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

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.

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

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

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.

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

Freedom is a state of mind.

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

Good science fiction has its roots in good science.

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

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.

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

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.

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’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.

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.

Die in winter woods," roared Tarin, as if it were his most fervent wish. He was losing it again. Since being caught, he had seen a boy with no balls or toes, a finger had been in his ass twice, he'd been cooked, made to wear clothes, walked on winter-lake stuff, wasted his gift, was going to have his tooth pulled out and—scat—and he was being laughed at.

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?

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.

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!

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 …

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.

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.

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.

...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.