“I should like friendship with you ... and trust. I should like that respect for each other which grows in the breast without demand for the huddlings of sex.”

― Frank Herbert

“It was a scene of such beauty it caught all his attention. Some things beggar likeness, he thought.

― Frank Herbert

“Better a dry morsel and quietness therewith than a house full of sacrifice and strife.”

― Frank Herbert

“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

“Black is a blind remembering, she thought. You listen for pack sounds, for the cries of those who hunted your ancestors in a past so ancient only your most primitive cells remember. The ears see. The nostrils see.”

― Frank Herbert

“The terrain enforced its own rhythms.”

― Frank Herbert

“The price men have always paid for achieving a paradise in this life -we went soft, we lost our edge.”

― Frank Herbert

“The hunter does not seek dead game.”

― Frank Herbert

“Whether a thought is spoken or not it is a real thing and it has power," Tuek said. "You might find the line between life and death among the Fremen to be too sharp and quick.”

― Frank Herbert

“Fino ad oggi gli uomini e le loro opere sono stati un flagello per i pianeti. La natura reagisce ai flagelli: li elimina o li assorbe per incorporarli nel suo sistema.”

― Frank Herbert

“Paul sat back. He had used the questions and hyperawareness to do what his mother called “registering” the person. He had Kynes now—tone of voice, each detail of face and gesture.”

― Frank Herbert

“To the east, the night grew a faggot of luminous grey, then seashell opalescence that dimmed the stars. There came the long, bell-tolling movement of dawn striking across a broken horizon.”

― Frank Herbert

“That which submits rules.”

― Frank Herbert

“She thought of the boy’s features as an exquisite distillation out of random patterns—endless queues of happenstance meeting at this nexus.”

― Frank Herbert

“Jessica, hearing the voices, felt the depth of the experience, realized what terrible inhibitions there must be against shedding tears. She focused on the words: “He gives moisture to the dead.” It was a gift to the shadow world—tears. They would be sacred beyond a doubt.”

― Frank Herbert


Contact Us


Send us a mail and we will get in touch with you soon!

You can email us at: contact@fancyread.com
Fancyread Inc.