Solaris Book Quotes

He wanders around a bit checking out how governments work and reckons they don’t.

Wandering across the vast room, I stopped at a set of shelves as high as the ceiling, and holding about six hundred volumes - all classics on the history of Soalris, starting with the nine volumes of Giese's monumental and already relatively obsolescent monograph. Display for its own sake was improbable in these surroundings. The collection was a respective tribute to the memory of the pioneers. I took down the massive volumes of Giese and sat leafing through them. Rheya had also located som reading matter. Looking over her shoulder, I saw that she had picked one of the many books brought out by the first expedition, the Interplanetary Cookery Book, which could have been the personal property of Giese himself. She was pouring over the recipes adapted to the arduous conditions of interstellar flight. I said nothing, and returned to the book resting on my knees. Solaris - Ten Years of Exploration had appeared as volumes 4-12 of the Solariana collection whose most recent additions were numbered in the thousands.

What is life without a few bruises to toughen our character?

Yet the people yearned for superheroes, dreaming of them in films and comic books, but, like the disbelieved Cassandra, only villains were permitted to tell the truth...

we’ll learn the secrets of matter, as if they didn’t know they’re fooling themselves. They’re wandering around in a library of books written in an unknown language, and just looking at the colors of the spines…

Spiritually inclined rationalists may view this ongoing evolutionary process as one of ‘Theogenesis’... On a long billions-of-years evolutionary journey from the first primordial prokaryote to a Solaris-like planetary mind, we’re merely years away from this cardinal metamorphosis.

She remembered Klanor speaking about a place he always liked to visit, a place at the heart of the Twelve Sectors, one that many visited because of its rich blues and unique wildlife (it was home to the Wingabur, a rare species that was somewhere between a bear and a pigeon) and flowing rivers of water the color of sunset orange.

Alfric ran ahead of his men, 20 in number, his bearskin cloak (made from the same bear he had killed in his youth) flapped behind him, exposing his kyrtill (and the gold embroidery marking his station as king) as they chased the enemy army that had—foolishly—dared to invade his kingdom and steal the treasures that he had brought back from his journey south.

She turned a corner, dodging into another person’s yard (decorated with a blue picnic table and patio umbrella with daisies painted on it, despite the shabbiness of his neighbors), before diving through a loose board in the wood fence (its edges rotted) and into another alley, and forced to squeeze past an abandoned, green Cadillac (with rusted fenders and a missing left, rear tire) that nearly blocked her path.

Once again, she had been forced to flee for her life from Jenny Sommers (the popular girl in her school who always had the latest clothes in fashion, dated the star football quarterback in a clichéd high school romance, and had recently received a Lexus convertible for her birthday) and her friends, who were just as spoiled.

If my cock had scales and another ninety feet it’d be a dragon!