Vomitar

Franz tenía razón, ya era hora de organizar una exposición, daba vueltas en redondo desde hacía meses, esto empezaba a influir en su humor. Se puede trabajar en solitario durante años, es la única manera de trabajar, la verdad sea dicha; llega siempre un momento en que experimentas la necesidad de mostrar tu trabajo al mundo, menos para recibir su juicio que para tranquilizarte sobre la existencia de ese trabajo e incluso sobre tu existencia propia., la individualidad es apenas una ficción breve dentro de una especie social.

El mapa y el territorio, capítulo 1, Segunda parte - Michel Houellebecq

Pure Life

I guess I'm afraid he'll hurt me again." Cordelia thought that one over. "Probably. Aral and I hurt each other all the time."

"Oh, not you two, Milady! You seem so, so perfect."

"Think, Drou. Can you imagine what mental state Aral is in right this minute, because of my actions? I can. I do."

"Oh."

"But pain . . . seems to me an insufficient reason not to embrace life. Being dead is quite painless. Pain, like time, is going to come on regardless. Question is, what glorious moments can you win from life in addition to the pain?"

"I'm not sure I follow that, Milady

Barrayar, chapter 17 - Lois McMaster

Honor for love

Later, lying warm in the darkness in Vorkosigan's room in the Count's town house, Cordelia remembered a curiosity. "What did you say to the Emperor, about me?"

He stirred beside her, and pulled the sheet tenderly up over her bare shoulder, tenting them together. "Hm? Oh, that." He hesitated. "Ezar had been questioning me about you, in our argument about Escobar. Implied that you had affected my nerve, for the worse. I didn't know then if I'd ever see you again. He wanted to know what I saw in you. I told him . . ." he paused again, and then continued almost shyly, "that you poured out honor like a fountain, all around you."

"That's weird. I don't feel full of honor, or anything else, except maybe confusion."

"Naturally not. Fountains keep nothing for themselves."

Shards of Honour, chapter fifteen - Lois McMaster

El nuevo Salvador

No tenía ningún amigo íntimo y no buscaba la amistad ajena. En cambio, pasaba tardes enteras en la biblioteca, y a los dieciocho años, terminado el bachillerato, poseía un vasto conocimiento, inusual en los jóvenes de su generación, del patrimonio literario de la humanidad. Había leído a Platón, Esquilo y Sófocles; había leído a Racine, Molière y Hugo; conocía a Balzac, Dickens, Flaubert, a los románticos alemanes y a los novelistas rusos. Más sorprendente aún, estaba familiarizado con los principales dogmas de la fe católica, cuya huella en la cultura occidental había sido tan profunda, mientras que sus compañeros, por lo general, sabían sobre la vida de Jesús un poco menos que sobre la de Spiderman.

El mapa y el territorio, capítulo dos, primera parte - Michel Houellebecq

What really matters

"He doesn't have a very good reputation."

"Yeah, I've seen some of it. It's all lies."

"He's—not a murderer, then?"

"Well . . ." Cordelia foundered on the truth. "He has k-killed a lot of people, I suppose. He's a soldier, you know. It's his job. It can't help spilling over a bit. I only know about three that weren't in the line of duty, though."

"Only three?" repeated her mother faintly. There was a pause. "He's not a, a sex criminal, then?" "Certainly not! “

 

Shards of Honour , chapter twelve - Lois McMaster

Live! live! live!

Welcome to Barrayar, son. Here you go: have a world of wealth and poverty, wrenching change and rooted history. Have a birth; have two. Have a name. Miles means "soldier," but don't let the power of suggestion overwhelm you. Have a twisted form in a society that loathes and fears the mutations that have been its deepest agony. Have a title, wealth, power, and all the hatred and envy they will draw. Have your body ripped apart and re-arranged. Inherit an array of friends and enemies you never made. Have a grandfather from hell. Endure pain, find joy, and make your own meaning, because the universe certainly isn't going to supply it. Always be a moving target. Live. Live. Live

Barrayar, chapter 20 - Lois McMaster

Just a little bit pregnant

"He said that permitting private judgments to turn my duty in the smallest matter would be just like getting a little bit pregnant—that the consequences would very soon get beyond me.

Shards of Honour, chapter eight - Lois McMaster

Women at best

"I said I was sorry," said Kou, sounding stung.

Drou stiffened. "Yes. Repeatedly," she said coldly.

"And there we come to the heart of the matter," Cordelia said slowly, seriously. "What Kou actually means, Drou, is that he isn't a bit sorry. The moment was wonderful, you were wonderful, and he wants to do it again. And again and again, with nobody but you, forever, socially approved and uninterrupted. Is that right, Kou?"

Kou looked stunned. "Well—yes!"

Drou blinked. "But . . . that's what I wanted you to say!"

"It was?" He peered over Cordelia's head.

This go-between system may have some real merits. But also its limits. Cordelia rose from between them, and glanced at her chrono. The humor drained from her spirit. "You have a little time yet. You can say a lot in a little time, if you stick to words of one syllable.

Barrayar, chapter 17 - Lois McMaster

Best love declaration ever

He shook his head. "That's not what I want, for you, with you. You should have the best. I'm hardly that, you must know by now. But at least I can offer you the best that I have. Dear C—Commander, am I too sudden, by Betan standards? I've been waiting for days, for the right opportunity, but there never seemed to be one."

"Days! How long have you been thinking along these lines?"

"It first occurred to me when I saw you in the ravine."

"What, throwing up in the mud?"

He grinned at that. "With great composure. By the time we finished burying your officer, I knew." She rubbed her lips. "Anybody ever tell you you're a lunatic?"

"Not in this context.”

Shards of honour, chapter five - Lois McMaster

Love is in the details

He shook his head. "That's not what I want, for you, with you. You should have the best. I'm hardly that, you must know by now. But at least I can offer you the best that I have. Dear C—Commander, am I too sudden, by Betan standards? I've been waiting for days, for the right opportunity, but there never seemed to be one."

"Days! How long have you been thinking along these lines?"

"It first occurred to me when I saw you in the ravine."

"What, throwing up in the mud?"

He grinned at that. "With great composure. By the time we finished burying your officer, I knew." She rubbed her lips. "Anybody ever tell you you're a lunatic?"

"Not in this context.”

Shards of Honour, chapter five - Lois McMaster

Female mind

"First try," echoed Drou. Her lip curled in introspective dismay. "How did you know you'd . . . caught? The nausea?"

"Fatigue, before nausea. But it was the little blue dots . . ." Her voice faltered, as she studied the girl's twisted-up features.

"Drou, are all these questions academic, or do you have some more personal interest in the answers?"

Her face almost crumpled. "Personal," she choked out. "Oh." Cordelia sat back. "D'you . . . want to talk about it?"

"No . . . I don't know. . . ."

"I presume that means yes," Cordelia sighed.

Barrayar, Chapter 10 - Lois McMaster