“The night is a tunnel, she thought, a hole into tomorrow...”

Frank Herbert

“Behold, as a wild ass in the desert, go I forth to my work.”

Frank Herbert

“You must teach me the way you thrust your worries aside and turn to practical matters.”

Frank Herbert

“My father rules an entire planet." "He's losing it.”

Frank Herbert

“It occurred to her that mercy was the ability to stop, if only for a moment. There was no mercy where there could be no stopping.”

Frank Herbert

“This is likely one of the roots of Fremen emphasis on superstition (disregarding the Missionaria Protectiva’s ministrations). What matter that whistling sands are an omen? What matter that you must make the sign of the fist when first you see First Moon? A man’s flesh is his own and his water belongs to the tribe—and the mystery of life isn’t a problem to solve but a reality to experience. Omens help you remember this. And because you are here, because you have the religion, victory cannot evade you in the end.”

Frank Herbert

“Science is made up of so many things that appear obvious after they are explained.”

Frank Herbert

“Fate was sometimes inscrutable.”

Frank Herbert

“People need hard times and oppression to develop psychic muscles.”

Frank Herbert

“Sad? Nonsense! Parting with friends is a sadness. A place is only a place.” He glanced at the charts on the table. “And Arrakis is just another place.”

Frank Herbert

“Come, come," the Baron said. "We don't have much time and pain is quick. Please don't bring it to this, my dear Duke." The Baron looked up at Piter who stood at Leto's shoulder. "Piter doesn't have all his tools here, but I'm sure he could improvise." "Improvisation is sometimes the best, Baron.”

Frank Herbert

“He found that he no longer could hate the Bene Gesserit or the Emperor or even the Harkonnens. They were all caught up in the need of their race to renew its scattered inheritance, to cross and mingle and infuse their bloodlines in a great new pooling of genes. And the race knew only one sure way for this—the ancient way, the tried and certain way that rolled over everything in its path: jihad. Surely,”

Frank Herbert

“Somewhere beneath him, the pre-spice mass had accumulated enough water and organic matter from the little makers, had reached the critical stage of wild growth. A gigantic bubble of carbon dioxide was forming deep in the sand, heaving upward in an enormous “blow” with a dust whirlpool at its center. It would exchange what had been formed deep in the sand for whatever lay on the surface.

Frank Herbert

“The Fremen were supreme in that quality the ancients called “spannungsbogen”—which is the self-imposed delay between desire for a thing and the act of reaching out to grasp that thing.”

Frank Herbert

“Yes. They’ll call me…Muad’Dib, ‘The One Who Points the Way.’ Yes…that’s what they’ll call me.”

Frank Herbert


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