“Where Thufir Hawat goes, death and deceit follow.”

Frank Herbert

“Can you remember your first taste of spice?” “It tasted like cinnamon.”

Frank Herbert

“I observed you in pain, lad. Pain’s merely the axis of the test. Your mother’s told you about our ways of observing. I see the signs of her teaching in you. Our test is crisis and observation.”

Frank Herbert

“Greatness is a transitory experience. It is never consistent. It depends in part on the myth-making imagination of humankind. The person who experiences greatness must have a feeling for the myth he is in. He must reflect what is projected upon him.”

Frank Herbert

“people with a goal. Such people would be easy to imbue with fervor and fanaticism.”

Frank Herbert

“The night is a tunnel, she thought, a hole into tomorrow...”

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

“Do not count a human dead until you’ve seen his body. And even then you can make a mistake.”

Frank Herbert

“His thoughts were too vague to be described, but they comprehended mysterious elements.”

Frank Herbert

“Grave this on your memory, lad: A world is supported by four things..." she held up four big-knuckled fingers. "...the learning of the wise, the justice of the great, the prayers of the righteous and the valor of the brave. But all of these things are as nothing..." She closed her fingers into a fist. "...without a ruler who knows the art of ruling. Make that the science of your tradition!” 

Frank Herbert

“He uses the nice old words so rich in tradition to be sure I know he means it.”

Frank Herbert

“A plan depends as much upon execution as it does upon concept.”

Frank Herbert

“No conocerás el miedo. El miedo mata la mente. El miedo es la pequeña muerte que conduce a la destrucción total. Afrontaré mi miedo. Permitiré que pase sobre mí y a través de mí. Y cuando haya pasado girare mi ojo interior para escrutar su camino. Allá donde haya pasado el miedo ya no habrá nada. Solo estaré yo.”

Frank Herbert

“Whirling silence settled around Jessica. Every fiber of her body accepted the fact that something profound had happened to it. She felt that she was a conscious mote, smaller than any subatomic particle, yet capable of motion and of sensing her surroundings. Like an abrupt revelation—the curtains whipped away—she realized she had become aware of a psychokinesthetic extension of herself. She was the mote, yet not the mote.”

Frank Herbert

“He found that he no longer could hate the Bene Gesserit or the Emperor or even the Harkonnens. They were all caught up in the need of their race to renew its scattered inheritance, to cross and mingle and infuse their bloodlines in a great new pooling of genes. And the race knew only one sure way for this—the ancient way, the tried and certain way that rolled over everything in its path: jihad. Surely,”

Frank Herbert


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