Frases de Dan Simmons

“Le disgustaba morir, y no quería morir más de lo necesario.”

“No tengo que contarle que Martha siguió engordando durante cada embarazo y posteriormente. Después de que naciera William, ella ya no fingió que pudiera despojarse del enorme peso que colgaba de su cuerpo como grandes masas de grasa. Parecía que había abandonado el cuidado de su aspecto. Una vez escribí de Martha R. que era un bello espécimen del tipo de chica que me gustaba: "La auténtica chica carnosa inglesa, alimentada con carne de buey". Pero todo aquel buey que la alimentaba tuvo un efecto predecible. Si me hubiesen pedido que reescribiese aquella frase en 1874, habría dicho: "Es el perfecto espécimen de enorme buey inglés carnoso y alimentado con carne de chica".”

“Fue la época más cálida y febril de un verano cálido y febril. Los excrementos de tres millones de londinenses apestaban en las alcantarillas abiertas, incluida la mayor de nuestras alcantarillas (a pesar de que aquel año los ingenieros habían intentado inaugurar un elaborado sistema de alcantarillas subterráneas): el Támesis. Decenas de miles de londinenses dormían en sus porches o balcones, esperando la lluvia. Pero cuando cayó la lluvia fue como una ducha caliente, que se limitó a añadir una capa de humedad al calor. Julio se abatía sobre Londres aquel verano como una manta pesada y húmeda.”

“Si un escritor se pone muy enfermo, todo se detiene. Si se muere, su "negocio" se acaba para siempre. En este sentido, la carrera de un escritor popular se parece más a la de un famoso actor, pero hasta el actor más famoso tiene un suplente. Un escritor no. Nadie puede sustituirle. Su voz personal lo es todo. Y esto es especialmente cierto en el caso de una escritor popular que ya está en proceso de ser publicado por entregas en una revista de tirada nacional.”

“Kassad reparó en las inquisitivas cejas arqueadas, las pequeñas orejas que había besado tantas veces. La blanda garganta donde había apoyado las mejillas para escuchar sus palpitaciones. Kassad la apuntó con el rifle. —¿Quién eres? —preguntó ella. La voz era tan suave y sensual como él recordaba, el acento igualmente elusivo. Con el dedo en el gatillo, Kassad titubeó. Habían hecho el amor veintenas de veces, se habían conocido durante años en sus sueños y el paisaje de las simulaciones militares. Pero si ella en efecto retrocedía en el tiempo… —Lo”

“Almost everything interesting in the human experience is the result of an individual experiencing, experimenting, explaining, and sharing,” said my young friend. “A hive mind would be the ancient television broadcasts, or life at the height of the datasphere…consensual idiocy.”

“It occurs to me that our survival may depend upon our talking to one another.”

“Evolution brings human beings. Human beings, through a long and painful process, bring humanity.”

“In the end--when all else is dust--loyalty to those we love is all we can carry with us to the grave. Faith--true faith--was trusting in that love.”

“The shortest route to courage is absolute ignorance.”

“In such seconds of decision entire futures are made.”

“In twentieth-century Old Earth, a fast food chain took dead cow meat, fried it in grease, added carcinogens, wrapped it in petroleum-based foam, and sold nine hundred billion units. Human beings. Go figure.”

“There is a fullness and calmness there which can come only from knowing pain.”

“I loved you backward and forward in time. I loved you beyond boundaries of time and space.”

“Words are the only bullets in truth’s bandolier. And poets are the snipers.”

“Mobs have passions, not brains.”

“Its hard to die. Harder to live”

“Luckily, even as a young man not yet become himself, John Bridgens had two things besides indecision that kept him from self-destruction - books and a sense of irony.”

“Belief in one’s identity as a poet or writer prior to the acid test of publication is as naive and harmless as the youthful belief in one’s immortality…and the inevitable disillusionment is just as painful.”

“Prison always has been a good place for writers, killing, as it does, the twin demons of mobility and diversion”

“We are all eaters of souls.”

“You have to live to really know things, my love”

“You are quite acute for a mental stillborn”

“The lieutenant took his time scanning their visa chips, letting them wait in the drizzle, occasionally making a comment with the idle arrogance common to such nobodies who have just come into a small bit of power.”

“Sol realized what he had known and forgotten about very small communities: they were frequently annoying, always parochial, sometimes prying on a one-to-one level, but never had they subscribed to the vicious legacy of the so-called “public’s right to know.””

“In the beginning was the Word.
In the end…past honor, past life, past caring…
In the end will be the Word.”

“I now understand the need for faith—pure, blind, fly-in-the-face-of-reason faith—as a small life preserver in the wild and endless sea of a universe ruled by unfeeling laws and totally indifferent to the small, reasoning beings that inhabit it.”

“I thought—To lose all this forever?
And I hallucinated Aenea’s voice saying To lose all this forever is the essence of being human, my love.”

“It no longer matters who consider themselves the masters of events. Events no longer obey their masters.”

“I am of no faith,” said Aenea. “If one defines faith as belief in the supernatural.”

“Words bend our thinking to infinite paths of self-delusion, and the fact that we spend most of our mental lives in brain mansions built of words means that we lack the objectivity necessary to see the terrible distortion of reality which language brings.”

“Information is always to be treasured, Raul. It is behind only love and honesty in a person’s attempt to understand the universe.”

“I wish we had the technology to fight God on an equal basis,” he said in low, tight tones. “To beard him in his den. To fight back for all of the injustices heaped on humanity. To allow him to alter his smug arrogance or be blown to hell.”

“It was a dramatization of total chaos, a functional definition of confusion, an unchoreographed dance of sad violence. It was war.”