“Mood?” Halleck’s voice betrayed his outrage even through the shield’s filtering. “What has mood to do with it? You fight when the necessity arises—no matter the mood! Mood’s a thing for cattle or making love or playing the baliset. It’s not for fighting.”

Frank Herbert

“And the price we paid was the price men have always paid for achieving a paradise in this life—we went soft, we lost our edge.”

Frank Herbert

“Knowing where the trap is—that's the first step in evading it.”

Frank Herbert

“He doesn’t appear much, does he—one frightened old fat man too weak to support his own flesh without the help of suspensors.”

Frank Herbert

“A killer with the manners of a rabbit - this is the most dangerous kind.”

Frank Herbert

“the drowning man who climbs on your shoulders to save himself is understandable—except when you see it happen in the drawing room.”

Frank Herbert

“Without change something sleeps inside us, and seldom awakens. The sleeper must awaken.”

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

“ruling class that lives as ruling classes have lived in all times while, beneath them, a semihuman mass of semislaves exists on the leavings.

Frank Herbert

“It's easier to be terrified by an enemy you admire.”

Frank Herbert

“Deep in the human unconscious is a pervasive need for a logical universe that makes sense. But the real universe is always one step beyond logic. —”

Frank Herbert

“Respect for the truth comes close to being the basis for all morality. Something cannot emerge from nothing.”

Frank Herbert

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

Frank Herbert

“What a dolt my father sends me for weaponry,” Paul intoned. “This doltish Gurney Halleck has forgotten the first lesson for a fighting man armed and shielded.” Paul snapped the force button at his waist, felt the crinkled-skin tingling of the defensive field at his forehead and down his back, heard external sounds take on characteristic shield-filtered flatness. “In shield fighting, one moves fast on defense, slow on attack,” Paul said. “Attack has the sole purpose of tricking the opponent into a misstep, setting him up for the attack sinister. The shield turns the fast blow, admits the slow kindjal!” Paul snapped up the rapier, feinted fast and whipped it back for a slow thrust timed to enter a shield’s mindless defenses.”

Frank Herbert

“Grief is the price of victory,”

Frank Herbert


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