Hunters Of Dune Quotes

The hunter does not seek dead game.

A qui écris-tu? -A toi. En fait, je ne t'écris pas vraiment, j'écris ce que j'ai envie de faire avec toi... Il y avait des feuilles partout. Autour d'elle, à ses pieds, sur le lit. J'en ai pris une au hasard: "...Pique-niquer, faire la sieste au bord d'une rivière, manger des pêches, des crevettes, des croissants, du riz gluant, nager, danser, m'acheter des chaussures, de la lingerie, du parfum, lire le journal, lécher les vitrines, prendre le métro, surveiller l'heure, te pousser quand tu prends toute la place, étendre le linge, aller à l'Opéra, faire des barbecues, râler parce que tu as oublié le charbon, me laver les dents en même temps que toi, t'acheter des caleçons, tondre la pelouse, lire le journal par-dessus ton épaule, t'empêcher de manger trop de cacahuètes, visiter les caves de la Loire, et celles de la Hunter Valley, faire l'idiote, jacasser, cueillir des mûres, cuisiner, jardiner, te réveiller encore parce que tu ronfles, aller au zoo, aux puces, à Paris, à Londres, te chanter des chansons, arrêter de fumer, te demander de me couper les ongles, acheter de la vaisselle, des bêtises, des choses qui ne servent à rien, manger des glaces, regarder les gens, te battre aux échecs, écouter du jazz, du reggae, danser le mambo et le cha-cha-cha, m'ennuyer, faire des caprices, bouder, rire, t'entortiller autour de mon petit doigt, chercher une maison avec vue sur les vaches, remplir d'indécents Caddie, repeindre un plafond, coudre des rideaux, rester des heures à table à discuter avec des gens intéressants, te tenir par la barbichette, te couper les cheveux, enlever les mauvaises herbes, laver la voiture, voir la mer, t'appeler encore, te dire des mots crus, apprendre à tricoter, te tricoter une écharpe, défaire cette horreur, recueillir des chats, des chiens, des perroquets, des éléphants, louer des bicyclettes, ne pas s'en servir, rester dans un hamac, boire des margaritas à l'ombre, tricher, apprendre à me servir d'un fer à repasser, jeter le fer à repasser par la fenêtre, chanter sous la pluie, fuire les touristes, m'enivrer, te dire toute la vérité, me souvenir que toute vérité n'est pas bonne à dire, t'écouter, te donner la main, récupérer mon fer à repasser, écouter les paroles des chansons, mettre le réveil, oublier nos valises, m'arrêter de courir, descendre les poubelles, te demander si tu m'aimes toujours, discuter avec la voisine, te raconter mon enfance, faire des mouillettes, des étiquettes pour les pots de confiture..." Et ça continuais comme ça pendant des pages et des pages...

Each life is the sum total of its moments.

He’d decided to keep a journal in the hope that this might help. He looked at the recent entries. Probably Tuesday: hot, flies. Dinner: honey ants. Attacked by honey ants. Fell into waterhole. Wednesday, with any luck: hot, flies. Dinner: either bush raisins or kangaroo droppings. Chased by hunters, don’t know why. Fell into waterhole. Thursday (could be): hot, flies. Dinner: blue-tongued lizard. Savaged by blue-tongued lizard. Chased by different hunters. Fell off cliff, bounced into tree, pissed on by small grey incontinent teddy bear, landed in a waterhole. Friday: hot, flies. Dinner: some kind of roots which tasted like sick. This saved time. Saturday: hotter than yesterday, extra flies. V. thirsty. Sunday: hot. Delirious with thirst and flies. Nothing but nothing as far as the eye can see, with bushes in it. Decided to die, collapsed, fell down sand dune into waterhole.

No land or sea or planet is forever. Wherever we stand, we are only stewards.

Where do you live, Kaznim?" "In the star tent beside the Moon Pool, beneath the long dune." Marwick looked puzzled. "So, where's that?" he asked. "Um. In the desert," said Kaznim. "The Desert of the Singing Sands." "OK... and whereabouts is that." Kaznim shook her head. "I ... I don't know.

Quand mon cerveau excite dans mon ame la sensation d'un arbre ou d'une maison, je prononce hardiment, qu'il existe réellement hors de moi un arbre ou une maison, dont je connois même le lieu, la grandeur ou d'autres propriétés. Ainsi ne trouve-t-on ni homme ni bête qui doutent de cette vérité. Si un paysan en vouloit douter ; s'il disoit, par exemple, qu'il ne croyait pas que son baillif existe, quoiqu'il fut devant lui, on le pretendroit pour un fou et cela avec raison : mais dès qu'un philosophe avance de tels sentimens, il veut qu'on admire son esprit et ses lumières, qui surpassent infiniment celles du peuple.

So it was always at night, like a werewolf, that I would take the thing out for an honest run down the coast. I would start in Golden Gate Park, thinking only to run a few long curves to clear my head. . . but in a matter of minutes I'd be out at the beach with the sound of the engine in my ears, the surf booming up on the sea wall and a fine empty road stretching all the way down to Santa Cruz. . . not even a gas station in the whole seventy miles; the only public light along the way is an all-​night diner down around Rockaway Beach. There was no helmet on those nights, no speed limit, and no cooling it down on the curves. The momentary freedom of the park was like the one unlucky drink that shoves a wavering alcoholic off the wagon. I would come out of the park near the soccer field and pause for a moment at the stop sign, wondering if I knew anyone parked out there on the midnight humping strip. Then into first gear, forgetting the cars and letting the beast wind out. . . thirty-​five, forty-​five. . . then into second and wailing through the light at Lincoln Way, not worried about green or red signals, but only some other werewolf loony who might be pulling out, too slowly, to start his own run. Not many of these. . . and with three lanes on a wide curve, a bike coming hard has plenty of room to get around almost anything. . . then into third, the boomer gear, pushing seventy-​five and the beginning of a windscream in the ears, a pressure on the eyeballs like diving into water off a high board. Bent forward, far back on the seat, and a rigid grip on the handlebars as the bike starts jumping and wavering in the wind. Taillights far up ahead coming closer, faster, and suddenly -- zaaapppp -- going past and leaning down for a curve near the zoo, where the road swings out to sea. The dunes are flatter here, and on windy days sand blows across the highway, piling up in thick drifts as deadly as any oil-​slick. . . instant loss of control, a crashing, cartwheeling slide and maybe one of those two-​inch notices in the paper the next day: “An unidentified motorcyclist was killed last night when he failed to negotiate a turn on Highway I.” Indeed. . . but no sand this time, so the lever goes up into fourth, and now there's no sound except wind. Screw it all the way over, reach through the handlebars to raise the headlight beam, the needle leans down on a hundred, and wind-​burned eyeballs strain to see down the centerline, trying to provide a margin for the reflexes. But with the throttle screwed on there is only the barest margin, and no room at all for mistakes. It has to be done right. . . and that's when the strange music starts, when you stretch your luck so far that fear becomes exhilaration and vibrates along your arms. You can barely see at a hundred; the tears blow back so fast that they vaporize before they get to your ears. The only sounds are wind and a dull roar floating back from the mufflers. You watch the white line and try to lean with it. . . howling through a turn to the right, then to the left and down the long hill to Pacifica. . . letting off now, watching for cops, but only until the next dark stretch and another few seconds on the edge. . . The Edge. . . There is no honest way to explain it because the only people who really know where it is are the ones who have gone over. The others -- the living -- are those who pushed their control as far as they felt they could handle it, and then pulled back, or slowed down, or did whatever they had to when it came time to choose between Now and Later. But the edge is still Out there. Or maybe it's In. The association of motorcycles with LSD is no accident of publicity. They are both a means to an end, to the place of definitions.

If you do not face your weaknesses, how do you know where to be strong?

Every judgment teeters on the brink of error. To claim absolute knowledge is to become monstrous. Knowledge is an unending adventure at the edge of uncertainty. —LETO ATREIDES II, the God Emperor

Like minds do not always blend. They can be an explosive mixture.

It is often easier for us to destroy each other than it is to resolve our differences. Such is the cosmic joke of human nature!

Superstitions and nonsense from the past should not prevent us from making progress. If we hold ourselves back, we admit that our fears are more powerful than our abilities.

Those who do not actively pursue progress and innovation soon find themselves at the tail end of history.

We can learn much from those who came before us. The most valuable legacy our predecessors can leave us is the knowledge of how to avoid the same deadly mistakes.

We all have an innate ability to recognize flaws and weaknesses in others. It takes much greater courage, however, to recognize the same flaws in ourselves.

[The curve of your eyes] La courbe de tes yeux fait le tour de mon coeur, Un rond de danse et de douceur, Auréole du temps, berceau nocturne et sûr, Et si je ne sais plus tout ce que j’ai vécu C’est que tes yeux ne m’ont pas toujours vu. Feuilles de jour et mousse de rosée, Roseaux du vent, sourires parfumés, Ailes couvrant le monde de lumière, Bateaux chargés du ciel et de la mer, Chasseurs des bruits et sources des couleurs, Parfums éclos d’une couvée d’aurores Qui gît toujours sur la paille des astres, Comme le jour dépend de l’innocence Le monde entier dépend de tes yeux purs Et tout mon sang coule dans leurs regards. *** The curve of your eyes goes around my heart, A round of dance and sweetness, Halo of time, nocturnal and safe cradle, And if I don’t know any more all that I’ve lived through It’s because I haven’t always been seen by you. Leaves of day and scum of dew, Reeds of the wind, perfumed smiles, Wings covering the world with light, Ships filled with the sky and the sea, Hunters of noises and sources of colours, Perfumes bloomed from a brood of dawns That always lies on the straw of the stars, As the day depends on innocence The whole world depends on your pure eyes And all my blood flows in their looks. Paul Éluard , L’Amour la poésie (1929) Translated by Anne-Charlotte Husson

We all have the innate ability to recognize flaws and weaknesses in others. It takes much greater courage, however, to recognize the same flaws in ourselves.

The future is not for us to see as passive observers, but for us to create.

Those who think they see most clearly are often more blind than the rest.

Some like to live in complacency, hoping for stability without upset, I much prefer to turn over rocks and see what scurries out. -Mother Superior Darwi Odrade

Knowledge is an unending adventure at the edge of uncertainty.

Our motivations are as important as our goals, use this to understand your enemy. With such knowledge you can either defeat him or, better, manipulate him into becoming your ally. =Miles Teg

Memory is a weapon sharp enough to inflict deep wounds.

Like ancient priests and nuns from some long-obsolete religion, Bene Gesserits were supposed to give up love entirely for a greater cause. But in the long run, it never worked to discard everything in order to protect against one perceived weakness. One could not save humans by forcing them to surrender their humanity.

It is not cowardly or paranoid to jump at shadows if a real threat exists.

When the past returns to us with all its glory and pain, we don’t know whether to embrace it or to flee.

The treatment of an injury may hurt more than the wound itself. Do not allow a sore to fester because you are unwilling to tolerate the momentary pain.

We carry our grail in our heads. Hold it gently and reverently if it ever surfaces in your consciousness.

Three years of wandering in this ship! Our people certainly comprehend the incredible search for the Promised Land. We will endure as we have always endured. We will be patient as we have always been patient. Still, the doubting voice within me asks, “Does anyone know where we are going?

Every judgment teeters on the brink of error. To claim absolute knowledge is to become monstrous. Knowledge is an unending adventure at the edge of uncertainty.

Do our enemies occur naturally, or do we create them through our own actions?

Despite the words of egalitarians, all humans are not the same. Each of us contains a unique mix of hidden potential. In times of crisis, we must discover these abilities before it is too late.

The fabric of the universe is connected by threads of thought and tangled alliances. Others may glimpse parts of the pattern, but only we can decipher all of it. We can use that information to form a deadly net in which to trap our enemies.

Change is preferable to extinction.

When one has an obvious need, one has an obvious weakness. Take care when you make a request, for in doing so you reveal your vulnerabilities.

Why ask a man who is already lost to lead you? Why then are you surprised if he leads you nowhere?

Some like to live in complacency, hoping for stability without upset. I much prefer to turn over rocks and see what scurries out.

Learn how to recognize your greatest enemy. It may even be yourself.

The young reed dies so easily. Beginnings are times of such great peril.

The strongest and most altruistic leader, even if his office is dependent on the support of the masses, must look first to the dictates of his heart, never allowing his decisions to be swayed by popular opinion. It is only through courage and strength of character that a true and memorable legacy is ever attained.

A debt is a debt, Sheeana thought. Honor is honor. Truth is truth.

There is no escape—we pay for the violence of our ancestors.

Do the Masters truly control the strings—or can we use the strings to ensnare the Masters?

We all have a beast within us, hungry and violent. Some of us can feed and control the predator within, but it is unpredictable when unleashed.

The unknown can be a terrible thing, and is often made more monstrous by human imagination. The real Enemy, however, may be far worse than any we can possibly imagine. Do not let your guard down.

Is Love born to us, as natural a part of our humanity as breathing and sleeping? Or is Love something we must create within ourselves?

The meek see potential threats everywhere. The bold see potential profits.

Information is always available, if one is willing to go to extreme lengths to obtain it.

Our motivations are as important as our goals. Use this to understand your enemy. With such knowledge, you can either defeat him or, even better, manipulate him into becoming your ally.

Simply because something is not seen does not mean it is not there. Even the most observant can make this mistake. One must always be alert.

The human mind is not a puzzle to be solved but a treasure chest for us to open. If we cannot pick the lock, then we must smash it apart. Either way, the riches inside will be ours.

I will die four deaths—the death of the flesh, the death of the soul, the death of the myth, and the death of reason. And all of these deaths contain the seeds of resurrection.

Reputation can be a beautiful weapon. It often spills less blood.

Jessica regarde autour d’elle, verse comme par réflexe quelques doses de désinfectant sur ses paumes, qu’elle frotte fort l’une contre l’autre. Elle n’a pas spécialement peur des bactéries, après tout elle a passé pas mal de temps dans des hôpitaux et des morgues pour son travail. Mais ce dont elle a peur en ce moment, c’est l’inaction totale, l’attente les mains dans les poches. Depuis la veille, elle se sent à nu, à découvert, comme une cible : c’est pour ça qu’elle ne veut pas s’arrêter, qu’elle reste en mouvement. Il est plus difficile d’atteindre une cible en mouvement. Toutes les victimes lui ressemblent d’une façon ou d’une autre : elles sont plutôt jeunes, brunes, élancées. En outre, elle sait qu’elle a des ennemis. En octobre dernier, Jessica est devenue relativement célèbre après avoir mené comme inspectrice en chef une affaire où deux jeunes d’un groupe de motards avaient été incarcérés pour présomption de meurtre. Mais plus elle y réfléchit, plus elle se dit qu’il n’y a aucun motard aigri derrière cette histoire de sorcières, ni personne d’autre, dont Jessica se serait attiré la colère à la suite d’une incarcération. Au contraire, la vision de la silhouette cornue sur la glace lui a rappelé quelque chose qu’elle essaie d’oublier depuis près de quinze ans.

The answers will come when they come, not when you decide you need them.

At last, after our long journey, we have reached the beginning. -Mentat Conundrum

Love is one of the most dangerous forces in the universe. Love weakens, while deceiving us into believing it is a good thing.

Seeing is not knowing, and knowing is not preventing. Certainty can be as much of a curse as uncertainty. Without knowing the future, one has more options in forming a reaction.

The flesh surrenders itself. Eternity takes back its own. Our bodies stirred these waters briefly, danced with a certain intoxication before the love of life and self, dealt with a few strange ideas, then submitted to the instruments of Time. What can we say of this? I occurred. I am not . . . yet, I occurred.

Command must always look confident. Respect all that faith riding on your shoulders while you sit in the critical seat, even though you must never show that you feel the burden.

To suspect your own mortality is to know the beginning of terror. To learn irrefutably that you are mortal is to know the end of terror.

The hunt has been a fundamental part of the natural order since life first emerged. The prey knows this as well as the predator.

To a seasoned fighter, each battle is a banquet. Victory should be savored like the finest wine or the most extravagant dessert. Defeat is like a rancid chunk of meat.

The enemy of your enemy is not necessarily your friend. He may hate you as much as any other rival.

Radicals are only to be feared when you try to suppress them. You must demonstrate that you will use the best of what they offer.

An alliance is often more a work of art than a simple business transaction.

A choice can be as dangerous as a weapon. Refusing to choose is in itself a choice.

The flesh surrenders itself. Eternity takes back its own. Our bodies stirred these waters briefly, danced with a certain intoxication before the love of life and self, dealt with a few strange ideas, then submitted to the instruments of Time. What can we say of this? I occurred. I am not . . . yet, I occurred. —PAUL ATREIDES, Memories of Muad’Dib

All life is a series of seemingly insignificant tasks and decisions, culminating in the definition of an individual and her purpose in life.

All life is a series of seemingly insignificant tasks and decisions, culminating in the definition of an individual and her purpose in life.

Even a great tower has its weak point. The accomplished warrior finds and exploits the smallest flaws to bring about complete ruin.

Rot at the core always spreads outward.

In our arrogant assumption of superiority, we believe that our developed senses and abilities are the direct result of evolution. We are convinced that our race has bettered itself through technological advancement. Therefore, we are shamed and embarrassed when something we consider to be “primitive” has senses far superior to our own.

As human beings, we have trouble functioning in environments in which we feel threatened. The threat becomes the focus of our existence. But “safety” is one of the great illusions of the universe. Nowhere is it truly safe.

But what of the hunter behind me—the nightmare figure with the axe? What map tells me where she is tonight?