“Paul sat silently in the darkness, a single stark thought dominating his awareness: My mother is my enemy. She does not know it, but she is. She is bringing the jihad. She bore me; she trained me. She is my enemy.”

Frank Herbert

“I told my nephew of the great esteem our Emperor holds for you, Count Fenring,” the Baron said. And he thought: Mark him well, Feyd! A killer with the manners of a rabbit—this is the most dangerous kind.”

Frank Herbert

“The natural human´s an animal without a logic. Your projection of logic onto all affairs is unnatural.”

Frank Herbert

“Grief is the price of victory,”

Frank Herbert

“Where is Alia?' she asked. 'Out doing what any good Fremen child should be doing in such times,' Paul said. 'She’s killing enemy wounded...”

Frank Herbert

“Le véritable bonheur, c'était cela. La possibilité de s'arrêter, ne serait-ce que pour un moment.”

Frank Herbert

“How would you like to live billions upon billions of lives?” Paul asked. “There’s a fabric of legends for you! Think of all those experiences, the wisdom they’d bring. But wisdom tempers love, doesn’t it? And it puts a new shape on hate.

Frank Herbert

“If you rely only on your eyes, your other senses weaken.”

Frank Herbert

“Polish comes from the cities; wisdom from the desert.”

Frank Herbert

“How often it is that the angry man rages denial of what his inner self is telling him.”

Frank Herbert

“you of the fact that a deaf person cannot hear. Then, what deafness may we not all possess? What senses do we lack that we cannot see and cannot hear another world all around us? What is there around us that we cannot—”

Frank Herbert

“Don’t be so sure you know where to draw the line,” he said. “We carry our past with us. And, mother mine, there’s a thing you don’t know and should—we are Harkonnens.”

Frank Herbert

“And always, he fought the temptation to choose a clear, safe course, warning 'That path leads ever down into stagnation.”

Frank Herbert

“The Fremen were supreme in that quality the ancients called “spannungsbogen”—which is the self-imposed delay between desire for a thing and the act of reaching out to grasp that thing.”

Frank Herbert

“There is in all things a pattern that is part of our universe. It has symmetry, elegance, and grace - these qualities you find always in that the true artist captures. You can find it in the turning of the seasons, the way sand trails along a ridge, in the branch clusters of the creosote bush of the pattern of its leaves. We try to copy these patterns in our lives and in our society, seeking the rhythms, the dances, the forms that comfort. Yet, it is possible to see peril in the finding of ultimate perfection. It is clear that the ultimate pattern contains its own fixity. In such perfection, all things move towards death.”

Frank Herbert


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