“Arrakis teaches the attitude of the knife—chopping off what’s incomplete and saying: “Now, it’s complete because it’s ended here.”

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

“When you imagine mistakes, there can be no self-defense.”

Frank Herbert

“The Baron could see the path ahead of him. One day, a Harkonnen would be Emperor. Not himself, and no spawn of his loins. But a Harkonnen. Not this Rabban he’d summoned, of course.

Frank Herbert

“The test of a man isn’t what you think he’ll do. It’s what he actually does.”

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

“Gurney says there’s no artistry in killing with the tip, that it should be done with the edge.”

Frank Herbert

“There’s a Bene Gesserit saying,” she said. “You have sayings for everything!” he protested. “You’ll like this one,” she said. “It goes: ‘Do not count a human dead until you’ve seen his body. And even then you can make a mistake.”

Frank Herbert

“It is said in the desert that possession of water in great amount can inflict a man with fatal carelessness.”

Frank Herbert

“They displayed a sophistication in warfare as good as anything he had ever encountered, and he had been trained by the best fighters in the universe then seasoned in battles where only the superior few survived.”

Frank Herbert

“Survival is the ability to swim in strange water.”

Frank Herbert

“The day hums sweetly when you have enough bees working for you.”

Frank Herbert

“Pain,” she sniffed. “A human can override any nerve in the body.”

Frank Herbert

“Somewhere beneath him, the pre-spice mass had accumulated enough water and organic matter from the little makers, had reached the critical stage of wild growth. A gigantic bubble of carbon dioxide was forming deep in the sand, heaving upward in an enormous “blow” with a dust whirlpool at its center. It would exchange what had been formed deep in the sand for whatever lay on the surface.

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


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