“The old woman was a witch shadow—hair like matted spiderwebs, hooded ’round darkness of features, eyes like glittering jewels.”

Frank Herbert

“The terrain enforced its own rhythms.”

Frank Herbert

“It was a scene of such beauty it caught all his attention. Some things beggar likeness, he thought.

Frank Herbert

“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

“You shall be known among us as Usul, the base of the pillar. This is your secret name, your troop name. We of Sietch”

Frank Herbert

“You must be always hungry and thirsty.” The Baron caressed his bulges beneath the suspensors. “Like me.”

Frank Herbert

“How often it is that the angry man rages denial of what his inner self is telling him. —”

Frank Herbert

“Paradise on my right, Hell on my left and the Angel of Death behind.”

Frank Herbert

“Beginnings are such delicate times.”

Frank Herbert

“Black is a blind remembering, she thought. You listen for pack sounds, for the cries of those who hunted your ancestors in a past so ancient only your most primitive cells remember. The ears see. The nostrils see.”

Frank Herbert

“Once men turned their thinking over to machines in the hope that this would set them free. But that only permitted other men with machines to enslave them.” “ ‘Thou shalt not make a machine in the likeness of a man’s mind,”

Frank Herbert

“And he thought: I’m a seed

Frank Herbert

“We Bene Gesserit sift people to find the humans.”

Frank Herbert

“Think on it, Chani: the princess will have the name, yet she'll live as less than a concubine - never to know a moment of tenderness from the man to whom she's bound. While we, Chani, we who carry the name of concubine - history will call us wives.”

Frank Herbert

“Whirling silence settled around Jessica. Every fiber of her body accepted the fact that something profound had happened to it. She felt that she was a conscious mote, smaller than any subatomic particle, yet capable of motion and of sensing her surroundings. Like an abrupt revelation—the curtains whipped away—she realized she had become aware of a psychokinesthetic extension of herself. She was the mote, yet not the mote.”

Frank Herbert


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