Tim Lebbon Quotes

How are things on the edge of space?

Voyaging great distances
through forests, from island to island, across plains and into the mountains
is all about finding ourselves.

Palant went to close the door, but she couldn't resist one last look. It was shocking, horrific, and magnificent. For so long she had studied these creatures, their body parts and belongings, trying to understand them through dead flesh, clotted blood, and disassociated tech and clothing. Now she was looking right at one. A living, alien creature, with mysterious thoughts, histories, and philosophies, and an outlook on the universe that she did not understand. However long she studied and theorised, she would never understand.

Between a gasp and a sigh, a life can change forever.

Damn fine ship's cat you are.

Hold onto your dicks."
"We don't all have dicks, dickhead," Kasyanov muttered.

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All her life she had known that books were living things, not just a convergence of concept and ink, intellect and paper. They did not breathe or think, but they grew and gave a sense of potential so much larger than whatever was written on their pages.

Get an agent. Seriously, submitting stuff unagented means it will end up on the slush pile. An agent is the first quality filter, and a good agent is worth his or her weight in gold, as they'll often know the editors on a personal level and will be able to talk to them directly about the project.

Standing just behind them, pretending to be a part of their group and yet so obviously not, was a shape that did not belong.

Any writer takes inspiration from what they read and watch, and over their career works on forming their own voice. I think it was probably Stephen King who made me want to become a writer.

Maybes. Possibles. Don't knows.

Level 4," Lachance said. "Lingerie, footwear, monsters, and beasties.

Music, and moonlight, and love and ro...mance." he sang softly to himself, tapping some computer

On the way there hoop had talked to him about pain, telling him that it was a fleeting thing, a physical reaction to damage that he knew would do him no harm, and that afterward he wouldn't actually be able to remember what the pain. Had felt like.

Alchemy should have no part in a Je'daii's experience. It is a dark force, arcane and dangerous. It has the power to upset balance. There are other ways.

Do you have to feel something for it to be real or mean anything? Can you touch your dreams, taste your imagination.

A Je'daii needs darkness and light, shadow and illumination, because without the two there can be no balance. Veer to Bogan, and Ashla feels too constraining, too pure; edge toward Ashla, and Bogan becomes a monstrous myth. A Je'daii without balance between both is no Je'daii at all. He, or she, is simply lost.

seen Sitterson knew what was happening: in the mechanism older than Man, a small metal hammer struck a glass vial, cracking it from top to bottom and releasing the blood retained inside. The blood ran into a brass funnel that extended into a long, long pipe, running even deeper through rock and dark spaces, emerging eventually into a place deeper still. Here, the

Nature is a big influence on my work. That's where the cosmic element comes in, an awareness of the relevance of what we do as a species, why we do it, and its implications.

Real fear is like intense pain. It's there to warn you something's truly wrong.

I tend to believe that computers are drawing kids
and adults
away from reading purely because they provide an alternative, vast source of spare-time amusement and entertainment. I recently heard a frightening statistic: there are less than one million true readers in this country (those who read every day instead of one book per year on a beach). Terrifying.

She had already contacted her Peacemaker to ensure that everything there was as it should be. Ironholgs had spat and buzzed as if annoyed at being disturbed, but all was well. She yearned to be back in the ship, alone.

Pride is a dangerous indulgence.

Oh, so slimy bastard shithead had been a lecturer?

We'll start a whole new human race," Hoop quipped.
"With respect, Hoop, I believe Ripley would eat you alive.

She fell, rolled, kicked out with one boot. The alien tripped over her leg and went sprawling, spilling one queen's egg onto its side. Ripley screamed in pain as her wounded leg was jarred, but then she was standing again, aiming the charge thumper and firing her last shot into the monster's face.

It wasn't a case of me sitting down and thinking, right then, what shall I do with my life? Airline pilot? Plumber? Guitar manufacturer? Writer ... yeah, writer. I've always loved writing, from a very early age
I guess I was writing my first stories when I was still in single digits. It progressed, and the love of writing grew in my mind and is still growing. Doing it full-time, there are different stresses and tensions, and the business side of it comes to the fore sometimes. But I still love it, and I'm always thankful that I can do what I do and make a living from it.

Marty coughed and spat a dark mass. Tears burned his eyes. The darkness grew darker. "No... help me!" And then

Growing up closes so many doors. The modern world doesn't allow for miracles, so we don't see them. It's a very precious gift, an open mind, but it's not passive. You've got to nurture it like a bed of roses; otherwise it will wither and die. Make sure you don't close off your mind to things you find strange. Sometimes they may be the only truth.

It's still a great time for adventurers.

Maybe somewhere on the Nostromo there had been a similar scene, with Dallas hanging there, stuck in place like the victim in a massive spider's dense webbing.

Dreams are life, real life, not simply reflections. Dreams are honest.

Love is a warm brain, not a leaping heart.

Androids were never meant to dream.

The Force is neither light nor dark, master nor slave, but a balance between extremes.

Most humans she knew were badly damaged individuals.

Yautja are weird.

Fate knows all about you, it knows your fears and your weaknesses and your confidences and strengths, and it can be ready for all of them when it decides that the time is right. It can move you like a pawn in a terrible game of chess, sacrifice you for the good of others, drop you from a building you should never have been inside, give you a disease that no one has ever heard of. Luck and chance are impartial. Fate is active. It picks on people. Almost as if it thinks about things too much ...

At the heart of any poor soul not at one with the Force, there is only void.

Right then, the future was barely an hour long.

Antibiotics, viral tabs, painkillers, sterilisation spray," Kasyanov said. "Other stuff. Bandages, medicines, contraceptives.
Hoop raised an eyebrow.
"Hey. Forever is a long time.

If you do not fear God, then fear your dreams, because they're how He talks to you.