“And the price we paid was the price men have always paid for achieving a paradise in this life -we went soft, we lost our edge.”

Frank Herbert

“Pero no nos lamentemos por la falta de justicia mientras tengamos brazos y seamos libres para usarlos.”

Frank Herbert

“The knife is more dangerous than the hand and the knife can be in either hand.”

Frank Herbert

“Even an Emperor may tremble before Muad’Dib, for he has the strength of righteousness and heaven smiles upon him.”

Frank Herbert

“El misterio de la vida no es problema que hay que resolver, sino una realidad que hay que experimentar.”

Frank Herbert

“I guess I’m not in the mood for it today,” Paul said. “Mood?” Halleck’s voice betrayed his outrage even through the shield’s filtering. “What has mood to do with it? You fight when the necessity arises—no matter the mood! Mood’s a thing for cattle or making love or playing the baliset. It’s not for fighting.”

Frank Herbert

“Grief is the price of victory,”

Frank Herbert

“the mystery of life isn’t a problem to solve but a reality to experience.”

Frank Herbert

“You have a nicety of awareness of the difference between a blade's edge and its tip.”

Frank Herbert

“His voice was low, charged with unspeakable adjectives.”

Frank Herbert

“They compose poems to their knives.”

Frank Herbert

“What do you despise? By this are you truly known. —”

Frank Herbert

“There is in all things a pattern that is part of our universe. It has symmetry, elegance, and grace - these qualities you find always in that the true artist captures. You can find it in the turning of the seasons, the way sand trails along a ridge, in the branch clusters of the creosote bush of the pattern of its leaves. We try to copy these patterns in our lives and in our society, seeking the rhythms, the dances, the forms that comfort. Yet, it is possible to see peril in the finding of ultimate perfection. It is clear that the ultimate pattern contains its own fixity. In such perfection, all things move towards death.”

Frank Herbert

“Feints within feints within feints.”

Frank Herbert

“She thought of the boy's features as an exquisite distillation out of random patterns-endless queues of happenstance meeting at this nexus.”

Frank Herbert


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