Dune Prophecy Quotes

Maud’Dib could indeed, see the Future, but you must understand the limits of this power. Think of sight. You have eyes, yet cannot see without light. If you are on the floor of a valley, you cannot see beyond the valley. Just so, Maud’Dib could not always choose to look across the mysterious terrain. He tells us that a single obscure decision of prophecy, perhaps the choice of one word over another, could change the entire aspect of the future. He tells us “The vision of time is broad, but when you pass through it, time becomes a narrow door.” And always, he fought the temptation to choose a clear, safe course, warning “That path leads ever down into stagnation.

He realized suddenly that it was one thing to see the past occupying the present, but the true test of prescience was to see the past in the future. Things persisted in not being what they seemed.

Life cannot find reasons to sustain it, cannot be a source of decent mutual regard, unless each of us resolves to breathe such qualities into it.

Prophecy and prescience—How can they be put to the test in the face of the unanswered question? Consider: How much is actual prediction of the “wave form” (as Muad’Dib referred to his vision-image) and how much is the prophet shaping the future to fit the prophecy? What of the harmonics inherent in the act of prophecy? Does the prophet see the future or does he see a line of weakness, a fault or cleavage that he may shatter with words or decisions as a diamond-cutter shatters his gem with a blow of a knife?

A single obscure decision of prophecy, perhaps the choice of one word over another, could change the entire aspect of the future. He tells us "The vision of time is broad, but when you pass through it, time becomes a narrow door.

At the quantum level our universe can be seen as an indeterminate place, predictable in a statistical way only when you employ large enough numbers. Between that universe and a relatively predictable one where the passage of a single planet can be timed to a picosecond, other forces come into play. For the in-between universe where we find our daily lives, that which you believe is a dominant force. Your beliefs order the unfolding of daily events. If enough of us believe, a new thing can be made to exist. Belief structure creates a filter through which chaos is sifted into order.

Religion always leads to rhetorical despotism," Leto said. "Before the Bene Gesserit, the Jesuits were the best at it." "Jesuits, Lord?" "Surely you've met them in your histories?" "I'm not certain, Lord. When were they?" "No matter. You learn enough about rhetorical despotism from a study of the Bene Gesserit. Of course, they do not begin by deluding themselves with it." "It leads to self-fulfilling prophecy and justifications for all manner of obscenities," Leto said. "This . . . rhetorical despotism, Lord?" "Yes! It shields evil behind walls of self-righteousness which are proof against all arguments against the evil.

Que l'Diable me patafiole si j'acceptions le salaire du pêché d'une Jézabel fardée.

Les pêchés euct' Sodome et Gomorrhe ! Profiter d'une câââ-tin sans défense ! Faudra m'passer su'l corps !

Elle était belle, mais belle comme un incendie de forêt : d'une beauté qu’il vaut mieux admirer de loin, pas de trop près.

when one has lived with prophecy for so long, the moment of revelation is a shock.

It leads to self-fulfilling prophecy and justifications for all manner of obscenities,” Leto said. “This … rhetorical despotism, Lord?” “Yes! It shields evil behind walls of self-righteousness which are proof against all arguments against the evil.

As it turned out, the sachem had been dead wrong. The Europes neither fled nor died out. In fact, said the old women in charge of the children, he had apologized for this error in prophecy and admitted that however many collapsed from ignorance or disease more would always come. They would come with languages that sounded like a dog bark; with a childish hunger for animal fur. They would forever fence land, ship whole trees to faraway countries, take any woman for quick pleasure, ruin soil, befoul sacred place and worship a dull, unimaginative god. They let their hogs browse the ocean shore turning it into dunes of sand where nothing green can ever grow again. Cut loose from the earth's soul, they insisted on purchase of its soil, and like all orphans they were insatiable. It was their destiny to chew up the world and spit out a horribleness that would destroy all primary peoples.

o bitter stench of funeral-still for Muad'dib. No knell nor solemn rite to free the mind From avaricious shadows. He is the fool saint, The golden stranger living forever On the edge of reason. Let your guard fall and he is there! His crimson peace and sovereign pallor Strike into our universe on prophetic webs To the verge, of a quiet glance -- there! Out of bristling star-jungles: Mysterious, lethal, an oracle without eyes, Catspaw of prophecy, whose voice never dies! Shai-hulud, he awaits thee upon a strand Where couples walk and fix, eye to eye, The delicious ennui of love. He strides through the long cavern of time, Scattering the fool-self of his dream. -The Ghola's Hymn

[...] Pourtant, s’il n’existe pas de moyen infaillible pour permettre au futur disciple d’identifier un Maître authentique par une procédure mentale uniquement, il existe néanmoins cette maxime ésotérique universelle (127) que tout aspirant trouvera un guide authentique s’il le mérite. De même que cette autre maxime qu’en réalité, et en dépit des apparences, ce n’est pas celui qui cherche qui choisit la voie, mais la voie qui le choisit. En d’autres termes, puisque le Maître incarne la voie, il a, mystérieusement et providentiellement, une fonction active à l’égard de celui qui cherche, avant même que l’initiation établisse la relation maître-disciple. Ce qui permet de comprendre l’anecdote suivante, racontée par le Shaykh marocain al-’Arabî ad-Darqâwî (mort en 1823), l’un des plus grands Maîtres soufis de ces derniers siècles. Au moment en question, il était un jeune homme, mais qui représentait déjà son propre Shaykh, ’Alî al-Jamal, à qui il se plaignit un jour de devoir aller dans tel endroit où il craignait de ne trouver aucune compagnie spirituelle. Son Shaykh lui coupa la parole : « Engendre celui qu’il te faut! » Et un peu plus tard, il lui réitéra le même ordre, au pluriel : « Engendre-les! »(128) Nous avons vu que le premier pas dans la voie spirituelle est de « renaître »; et toutes ces considérations laissent entendre que nul ne « mérite » un Maître sans avoir éprouvé une certaine conscience d’« inexistence » ou de vide, avant-goût de la pauvreté spirituelle (faqr) d’où le faqîr tire son nom. La porte ouverte est une image de cet état, et le Shaykh ad-Darqâwî déclare que l’un des moyens les plus puissants pour obtenir la solution à un problème spirituel est de tenir ouverte « la porte de la nécessité »(129) et de prendre garde qu’elle ne se referme. On peut ainsi en déduire que ce « mérite » se mesurera au degré d’acuité du sens de la nécessité chez celui qui cherche un Maître, ou au degré de vacuité de son âme, qui doit être en effet suffisamment vide pour précipiter l’avènement de ce qui lui est nécessaire. Et soulignons pour terminer que cette « passivité » n’est pas incompatible avec l’attitude plus active prescrite par le Christ : « Cherchez et vous trouverez; frappez et l’on vous ouvrira », puisque la manière la plus efficace de « frapper » est de prier, et que supplier est la preuve d’un vide et l’aveu d’un dénuement, d’une « nécessité » justement. En un mot, le futur disciple a, aussi bien que le Maître, des qualifications à actualiser. 127. Voir, dans le Treasury of Traditional Wisdom de Whitall Perry, à la section réservée au Maître spirituel, pp. 288-95, les citations sur ce point particulier, de même que sur d’autres en rapport avec cet appendice. 128. Lettres d'un Maître soufi, pp. 27-28. 129. Ibid., p. 20. - Le texte dit : « porte de la droiture », erreur de traduction corrigée par l’auteur, le terme arabe ayant bien le sens de « nécessité », et même de « besoin urgent ». (NdT)

The prophet is not diverted by illusions of past, present and future. The fixity of language determines such linear distinctions. Prophets hold a key to the lock in a language. The mechanical image remains only an image to them. This is not a mechanical universe. The linear progression of events is imposed by the observer. Cause and effect? That's not it at all. The prophet utters fateful words. You glimpse a thing "destined to occur." But the prophetic instant releases something of infinite portent and power. The universe undergoes a ghostly shift. Thus, the wise prophet conceals actuality behind shimmering labels. The uninitiated then believe the prophetic language is ambiguous. The listener distrusts the prophetic messenger. Instinct tells you how the utterance blunts the power of such words. The best prophets lead you up to the curtain and let you peer through for yourself.

Only through the lethal nature of prophecy can we understand the failure of such enormous and far-seeing power.

The Mahdi will be aware of things others cannot see,” went the prophecy.

Muad’Dib could indeed see the Future, but you must understand the limits of this power. Think of sight. You have eyes, yet cannot see without light. If you are on the floor of a valley, you cannot see beyond your valley. Just so, Muad’Dib could not always choose to look across the mysterious terrain. He tells us that a single obscure decision of prophecy, perhaps the choice of one word over another, could change the entire aspect of the future. He tells us “The vision of time is broad, but when you pass through it, time becomes a narrow door.” And always, he fought the temptation to choose a clear, safe course, warning “That path leads ever down into stagnation.

On that first day when Muad’Dib rode through the streets of Arrakeen with his family, some of the people along the way recalled the legends and the prophecy and they ventured to shout: “Mahdi!” But their shout was more a question than a statement, for as yet they could only hope he was the one foretold as the Lisan al-Gaib, the Voice from the Outer World. Their attention was focused, too, on the mother, because they had heard she was a Bene Gesserit and it was obvious to them that she was like the other Lisan al-Gaib.

Of course, the prophecy left certain latitude as to whether the Mother Goddess would bring the Messiah with her or produce Him on the scene. Still, there was this odd correspondence between prediction and persons.